Day 16 – Sunset Bay State Park, OR
Finally, we had a day to relax! With the exception of a one-day layover in Yellowstone, we’ve been on the run: taking down the tent, packing up the car, driving all day, setting up camp, falling into bed and then getting up and doing it all over again. Today, we had a planned layover here at Sunset Bay State Park so we could have time to play on the beach, explore the tide pools and hike the trails. After days and days on the road, the kids spent no more than 20 minutes total in the car today. What a treat!
There are three state parks within a stone’s throw of each other here: Sunset Bay has a campground and a quiet cove that empties out at low tide; up the road there’s Shore Acres, the former cliffside estate of lumber baron Louis Simpson, which features a lush botanical garden; and Cape Arago, at the end of the road, offers sweeping views of the ocean from its soaring bluffs as well as rugged trails that lead to tide pools below.
After a leisurely pancake breakfast, we hit Sunset Bay Beach. It was just after low tide, so we were able to walk out onto the rocks at the mouth of the bay where we discovered tide pools teeming with all kinds of interesting life forms, including bright orange and purple sea stars, neon-green anemones and dozens and dozens of urchins. We were only out there 20 or 30 minutes before we turned to go back to shore and found that the rising tide had covered up our route; we were forced to traverse the sheer rock face that rims the bay to keep from getting our feet wet.
After Sunset Bay Beach, we went up the hill to Shore Acres, where we browsed in the gift shop and toured the beautiful gardens, including the exquisite formal garden, the serene Japanese garden and the splendid rose garden, where we stuck our faces in the huge blooms – with lyrical, evocative names like Moondance, Marmalade Skies and Wild Blue Yonder – and breathed in their heavenly scent.
From there, we went just a bit farther to Cape Arago, where we could hear seals and sea lions barking, barking, barking on the rocks below as we ate a picnic lunch of cheese and crackers. On our way back to Sunset Bay Beach, we stopped at the Simpson Reef Overlook for a good view of the sea lions. Volunteers from some sort of conservation group let us use their super-powered spotting scopes to get close-up looks at the harbor seals, Steller sea lions and even one elephant seal that were all lounging on the rocky islands just off-shore.
We spent the rest of the afternoon back at Sunset Bay Beach, which, by this time, had filled completely with water. Keith and I sat in the warm sun and read our books while the kids played in the surf. Bliss.
After about an hour, we piled into the car and headed into town to do laundry and pick up dinner. Keith had seen some banners advertising some kind of a clam bake festival, a “Clamboree,” and was eager to get his hands on some good, fresh clam chowder. It turned out that the Clamboree was a dud – not much going on there – so we ended up at the High Tide Café in tiny Charleston, OR -- basically a four-way intersection that reeks of clam chowder as the aroma seeps out of all three restaurants in town. The kids played croquet on the lawn while Keith and I drank beer and listened to live music. Keith ordered clam chowder and pan-fried oysters – both local specialties – and raved about his meal for the rest of the evening. Brave Charlie, who’s always willing to try new food, bless his heart, ordered fried prawns and loved them.
With full bellies and a pile of fresh laundry, we headed back to the campground, ready to call it a near-perfect day, when tragedy struck. Clare asked for her beloved security blanket – also known as her Bubba. I hadn’t seen it with her all day, so I had assumed that it was back in the tent. But when we arrived at the campsite it wasn’t there. Oh, the horror. Keith and I turned the tent, the car and the Teardrop all inside out, but no Bubba. We were sick. We checked the bathrooms, retraced our steps around the campground and even asked at the ranger station. No Bubba. We finally had to put Clare to bed without the Bubba, and she whined and cried for a long time; she can’t live without that thing.
After the kids were in bed, we searched some more, but the Bubba has not turned up. We are pretty sure it has not left the campsite; we did not recall seeing it with Clare at all during our daylong outing. But it is nowhere to be found. The Bubba! Clare’s Bubba! She’s had it since she was born, and it’s never far from her side. She needs it to calm herself. She needs it to sleep. It’s like a little part of her soul. And it’s gone. Keith and I are heartbroken. And I am in tears. This is a devastating loss. Seriously.
Finally, we had a day to relax! With the exception of a one-day layover in Yellowstone, we’ve been on the run: taking down the tent, packing up the car, driving all day, setting up camp, falling into bed and then getting up and doing it all over again. Today, we had a planned layover here at Sunset Bay State Park so we could have time to play on the beach, explore the tide pools and hike the trails. After days and days on the road, the kids spent no more than 20 minutes total in the car today. What a treat!
There are three state parks within a stone’s throw of each other here: Sunset Bay has a campground and a quiet cove that empties out at low tide; up the road there’s Shore Acres, the former cliffside estate of lumber baron Louis Simpson, which features a lush botanical garden; and Cape Arago, at the end of the road, offers sweeping views of the ocean from its soaring bluffs as well as rugged trails that lead to tide pools below.
After a leisurely pancake breakfast, we hit Sunset Bay Beach. It was just after low tide, so we were able to walk out onto the rocks at the mouth of the bay where we discovered tide pools teeming with all kinds of interesting life forms, including bright orange and purple sea stars, neon-green anemones and dozens and dozens of urchins. We were only out there 20 or 30 minutes before we turned to go back to shore and found that the rising tide had covered up our route; we were forced to traverse the sheer rock face that rims the bay to keep from getting our feet wet.
After Sunset Bay Beach, we went up the hill to Shore Acres, where we browsed in the gift shop and toured the beautiful gardens, including the exquisite formal garden, the serene Japanese garden and the splendid rose garden, where we stuck our faces in the huge blooms – with lyrical, evocative names like Moondance, Marmalade Skies and Wild Blue Yonder – and breathed in their heavenly scent.
From there, we went just a bit farther to Cape Arago, where we could hear seals and sea lions barking, barking, barking on the rocks below as we ate a picnic lunch of cheese and crackers. On our way back to Sunset Bay Beach, we stopped at the Simpson Reef Overlook for a good view of the sea lions. Volunteers from some sort of conservation group let us use their super-powered spotting scopes to get close-up looks at the harbor seals, Steller sea lions and even one elephant seal that were all lounging on the rocky islands just off-shore.
We spent the rest of the afternoon back at Sunset Bay Beach, which, by this time, had filled completely with water. Keith and I sat in the warm sun and read our books while the kids played in the surf. Bliss.
After about an hour, we piled into the car and headed into town to do laundry and pick up dinner. Keith had seen some banners advertising some kind of a clam bake festival, a “Clamboree,” and was eager to get his hands on some good, fresh clam chowder. It turned out that the Clamboree was a dud – not much going on there – so we ended up at the High Tide Café in tiny Charleston, OR -- basically a four-way intersection that reeks of clam chowder as the aroma seeps out of all three restaurants in town. The kids played croquet on the lawn while Keith and I drank beer and listened to live music. Keith ordered clam chowder and pan-fried oysters – both local specialties – and raved about his meal for the rest of the evening. Brave Charlie, who’s always willing to try new food, bless his heart, ordered fried prawns and loved them.
With full bellies and a pile of fresh laundry, we headed back to the campground, ready to call it a near-perfect day, when tragedy struck. Clare asked for her beloved security blanket – also known as her Bubba. I hadn’t seen it with her all day, so I had assumed that it was back in the tent. But when we arrived at the campsite it wasn’t there. Oh, the horror. Keith and I turned the tent, the car and the Teardrop all inside out, but no Bubba. We were sick. We checked the bathrooms, retraced our steps around the campground and even asked at the ranger station. No Bubba. We finally had to put Clare to bed without the Bubba, and she whined and cried for a long time; she can’t live without that thing.
After the kids were in bed, we searched some more, but the Bubba has not turned up. We are pretty sure it has not left the campsite; we did not recall seeing it with Clare at all during our daylong outing. But it is nowhere to be found. The Bubba! Clare’s Bubba! She’s had it since she was born, and it’s never far from her side. She needs it to calm herself. She needs it to sleep. It’s like a little part of her soul. And it’s gone. Keith and I are heartbroken. And I am in tears. This is a devastating loss. Seriously.
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