May 1, 2025 7 min read Oregon Coast Trail

Backpacking The Oregon Coast Trail, Day 4: A Zero Day At Rockaway Beach

I need to stop the chaotic way I’m hiking the Oregon Coast Trail. A rest day brings some clarity, a new outlook on the trail, a decadent crab melt, and a stunning sunset with a friend.

The cozy little seaside house K rented in Rockaway Beach is in a neighborhood that’s somehow dead quiet, and I slept like the dead last night. I woke up feeling surprisingly refreshed. The blister pain is gone, the knee pain is gone, the exhaustion has evaporated.

Which makes me feel pangs of guilt for taking a zero day.

🛌

In thru-hiking vernacular, a zero day is simply a day with no hiking miles; a rest day.

But I made the decision last night so I can have time to get my bearings, digest the onslaught of scenery that’s been racing past my eyeballs, catch up on writing, and put a stop to the chaotic way I’ve been hiking this trail.

A charming beach house in Rockaway Beach.

I also need to figure out the logistics of crossing Nehalem Bay and Tillamook Bay.

I planned my itinerary based on the OCT guidebook by Bonnie Henderson, who has exponentially more experience (and stamina) than I do. Her suggested routes for thru-hikers relying on camping along the trail must have been difficult to build, because hiker/biker camp sites in the northern 100 miles of the Oregon Coast are sparse. And a couple of them are currently closed, making true camping options even more limited.

On Day 2, I should have hiked more than 23 miles from the Peter Iredale shipwreck to the Tillamook Head backpackers camp. That’s a steep ramp in difficulty after only four flat (albeit wet and very windy) miles on Day 1. After splitting that into a two-day hike, I simply couldn’t imagine accomplishing it in a single day. Especially with the elevation and mud and terrain you’ll face at Tillamook Head.

At least, not with a heavy pack weighing me down.

And no, I’m not exactly fit, but I’m gradually getting there. But there’s another factor at play that puts me at odds with Bonnie’s excellent guidebook: the tourist factor.

We’re Just Tourists Through Nature

I am a tourist in nature. We all are. And so far, the Oregon Coast is so ruggedly beautiful, so captivating, that I can’t help but stop a dozen times every mile to soak in the scenery, to take a photo, to shoot video, and to capture my thoughts in a notes app. I don’t want to do the suggested daily mileage (which averages out to more than 20 per day) not because I can’t physically handle it, but because I don’t want this experience to be a race against the sunset; a point-to-point journey.

I want the destination to be the journey itself. All the steps between camps. All the hikes between the capes. All the delicate wildflowers and the rugged rocks. All the variations in the size of the surf and the colors of the sand. This is not a race, and if I can’t finish it in the month my schedule allows, then I’ll simply come back and finish it this summer!

I spend the early afternoon strolling down Rockaway Beach’s main road, picking up a few trail essentials (like Mexican Hot Chocolate to add to my instant coffee), I drool over the various candy shops, ice cream parlors, and bakeries.

A run-down but charming Wizard of Oz mini-golf

There’s a quaint, run-down miniature golf attraction based on The Wizard of Oz. There’s a tourist train sitting stationary on the tracks, and I find myself wondering when it runs and how far the tracks go. I file that away for some research later today.

Then I find myself walking up to The Old Oregon Smokehouse, and impulsively ordering a $33 Crab Melt.

After my first bite, I have zero regrets. This is a rich, decadent slab of food and the most crab I’ve ever consumed in a single serving.

For the first time, I find myself wondering what it’s like to live in Oregon. Right here in Rockaway Beach, perhaps. What’s the cost of a 1-bedroom apartment? Are there even any available? How often will it rain? Do locals despise tourists or appreciate their business? Or both? What’s the cost of living compared to California’s hot central valley or prohibitively expensive central coast? How much do eggs cost here?

Are there hiking trails nearby?

The last question immediately answers itself: of course there are. I’m on one that runs 411 miles down Oregon’s coastline. I’ll walk right through this very spot in a couple days…

Such an awesome idea! I’ve never seen this on a California beach.

I spend the rest of the day’s quickly evaporating hours organizing my trail notes and writing a blog post. Then K and I head down to the beach for sunset, sipping on Pelican’s Marine Haze beer and just basking in the little details around us: the ridges blown into the sand by the wind, the purple sheen on the surface of the creek water that runs into the ocean, the dramatic sunset.

So much drama on the Oregon Coast. And never the negative kind…