Journalist By Nature: Carpe Diem Can Surprise You!

Seizing upon an unplanned opportunity of time, means and motive I headed out early on a "10" kind of day. Traveling in a southwesterly direction I enjoyed the crisp early morning air and the slanting sunlight streaking through the trees in the Siuslaw National Forest. Following the good report from a friend I sought the way to the Drift Creek Falls trailhead off Highway 18. This little leg stretcher of a hike lies deep in the coastal range between Newport and Lincoln City. National Forest road #1700 is a sports car enthusiast's Monaco Grand Prix route: single lane, many tight curves, dappled in sunlight and full of surprises. The peahen, resplendent in her colorful feathers, was as startled as I was as I braked for her and she dove for cover in the underbrush. Peeking out to check for traffic, of which there was none but me, she strutted her stuff down the road, posing for a picture or two before deciding I wasn't a career-enhancing agent.

The Drift Creek historic covered bridge along the way was a walk across only remnant of earlier times in this remote area. Populated by dairy farms, saw mills and small service stores, the region remains an independent settlement devoid of tourist attractions. Dodging a logging truck on its way to the mill I pulled into the empty parking lot and prepped for the trek. Solitude and quiet are two luxuries we rarely afford ourselves in these busy times. This trail offered both. The area was harvested, burned and replanted 50 years ago so the trees are nicely spaced, 18 to 24 inches in diameter and straight as arrows in their stretch for the sky. Undergrowth is minimal with oxalis and salal carpeting the forest floor.

Bridge walkway

Keeping my senses on alert I walked the padded downhill trail, a miniature version of the Monaco-like road I arrived on with curves galore. The occasional chit chit call of birds was my only accompaniment. Evidence of earlier logging remained in decaying five foot high stumps cut with axes rather than chain saws. The slope at the edge of the trail down to the creek was quite steep and strewn with fallen debris. Rounding a final curve I encountered the suspension bridge which is the focal point of this three mile round trip hike. Sturdy in its construction, the bridge barely sways underfoot. It spans the 100 foot deep canyon through which a slow summer stream meanders, fed at intervals by adjoining waterways. At this juncture a potentially dramatic waterfall spills 75 feet into the creek. The low summer flow of water makes for a modest spill, but the spring runoff must be quite a showpiece.

Ashes and bouquet at the waterfall

Exploring the surrounding area, always seeking out new photo perspectives, I came upon another surprise. A freshly wrapped and beribboned bouquet of tulips laid silently on a log, fronted by a white circle of dust. I quickly realized this was a loving tribute to a departed loved one, their ashes left at a memorable place in the forest. I backed away in respect for this display of love and sorrow intermingled. Returning on the trail I was met by more than two dozen hikers taking in the sights of Drift Creek. I will never understand why some people hike into a location only to turn around and immediately return to their cars without soaking up the delights of the natural wonders they worked to see. Some do; some don't.

Hilltop log deposit and replanted trees

Realizing I had already driven nearly halfway to the coast on the Forest Road I decided to take the final 12 miles and see the countryside. The Monaco-like curves lured me up and down hills, dry leaves rustling under wheels and scattering into the nearby forest, shadows dancing across the road, sunglare creating surprising moments as I encountered log trucks and oncoming drivers at the most inopportune moments. Caution resumed its rightful place as I slowed to enjoy the scenery, imagining the ocean just beyond the treetops where blue sky meets blue sea. Bursting out of the woods I was met by 80 degree temperatures on the coast and minimal traffic in this post-Labor Day week.

Cape Kiwanda's Haystack Rock

Stopping by Neskowin I found it unaccommodating to visitors. If you are not there to vacation, live or play golf, there really is no place to park nor anything touristy to see. Moving up the coast to Pacific City I found the beach at Cape Kiwanda more to my liking. The iconic sea stack there, named once again Haystack Rock, is similar to the namesake in Cannon Beach but farther offshore. The beach is wide and long, with sand dunes near the Rock where sand boarders practice for their winter snow sport. Eroding edges are roped off and danger signs abound yet none of this keeps people from climbing out, over and down the cliffs or camping on the sea edges. Sitting on the deck at the Pelican Pub I had a perfect seat for viewing the passing humanity, always a great sport and photo op. This restaurant and brewery is the destination of the Reach the Beach bicycle event that raises funds for the American Lung Association.

The siren call of the surf draws people to its foamy edge, young and old alike, and dogs fetch balls in the waves and paddle about looking like bobbing seals. The pounding waves and sea breezes wash away all sense of fatigue and stress, replacing that with a calm and meditative state of relaxation. As the bright sun speckles the rolling waves with its brilliance and arches irresistibly lower toward the horizon, people begin to gather for the spectacle of a beach sunset. Cars park facing the ocean, couples and families stroll the sands, tripods mounted with cameras take up positions and dinner guests order another round of drinks to delay the departure time and linger for the show.

The celestial ball that lights our earth slowly turns a golden color as it sinks toward the border of sea and sky taking the heavens from a high blue to a deepening one, layering orange, gold, yellow and purple beneath the blues. Sharp details turn to dark silhouettes as the light level declines. A reverent silence overtakes the moment of actual sunset as the watchers take in the marvel of color and daily cycle. The moon on this night rises from the east, chasing the sun in its orbit and replacing its radiance with a reflective dot of white. It has its own sense of grace and romance in the blue hour, that limited time after sunset when the sky retains its bluish cast of twilight.

Car engines start up and break the spell as people depart for warmer accommodations and evening activities. The seizure of this day was richly rewarded with surprises, scenery, solitude and memories to warm a grey winter's day. Be impulsive at times and see what your day can bring!