Everything I Tell You is Hearsay

The smoke in the sky had been relentless for weeks by the time I decided to try to run away from it; at least for the day. 

If you’ve been paying the slightest bit of attention, you know that a huge portion of the PNW is on fire. The atmosphere is oppressive, the heat punishing, and leaving the house a chore.

In an attempt to escape the smoke, and find some clear air to breathe, I decided to pack up the puppy and head to the coast. There’s usually a steady breeze, and the forecast was for 20 degrees cooler than here in town, so I was optimistic I might find respite there.

When trying to decide which part of the coast to visit, I decided on Astoria. My logic wasn’t so great, because Astoria is a good bit north of us, and the smoke was coming from British Columbia which is – as it happens – also north.

By the time we arrived, the smoke in Astoria was markedly heavier than inland. I knew we’d have to go further south to try and find a place the smoke might have dissipated. Cannon Beach is always a favorite, but nothing compares to my favorite spot on the Oregon coast; Hug Point

A popular spot, the park was sparsely populated on a weekday. The breeze was strong, and though there was smoke in the air, it was thin, mixed with a heavy mist, and overall much easier to breathe.

Though the tide was coming in, I thought we could risk sneaking around the rocks to the waterfall cove. The water was up to my ankles, but Enzo hates getting wet, so I carried him.

We explored the cove and scampered over rocks. Coaxing him into posing in front of the waterfall – at this time of year, more a trickle – was a bit of a challenge, but eventually captured a good shot.

Digging in the sand featured heavily in the remainder of the beach time. Nothing quite like letting the puppy wear himself out.

We continued south on the coast until we reached Tillamook. I kept hoping to encounter clear blue smokeless skies, but to no avail. We came inland and had burgers at Skyline Restaurant to console ourselves.

Having grown up in the Pacific Northwest, I am more accustomed to a cooler range of temperatures. Where other people may be hothouse flowers, I am a forest fern.

Lots of people seem to prefer the weather here under the impact of climate change. It is undeniably the case there are fewer gray and rainy days on average than there used to be. Personally I miss them. Not only for their favorable impact on the flora, but the – forgive the pun – dampening effect on migration. But, before this devolves into a diatribe about how much I do not love what Portland has become, I will merely say that lately, it has been hot and miserable unto the likes of Hades.

The only upside, to my mind, is that this affords an opportunity to scamper down to the local waterway and plash about.

Riverside park on the Clackamas is an easy option for that very thing. Enzo and Hodie came along.

We found a nice shady spot close to the water, which would have been perfect, apart from the yellowjackets. They seem to be everywhere this summer…

Enzo isn’t too fond of water, but whenever Hodie went in, his concern for her overrode his fear and he waded in to “save” her.

We had a nice time by the river, and on our way back to the car, we ran into our first ever other Shiba! They played a little bit – each with the signature Shiba vigor. It was nice to meet another Shiba owner who would understand they like to play really rough.

This was a nice relaxing week. The heat sucks the adventurelark right out of me. I think we’ll be doing something a little further afield for next Wednesday.

A couple of months ago now I tried to ride the KRT with limited success. The trail surface was much more suited to a mountain bike than the hybrid Trek I was riding.

At the time I remembered thinking it might be a better spot for running than riding, and yesterday I set out to test that theory.

When I got to the trailhead, I noticed immediately how WINDY it was. No surprise in the gorge, I was delighted to see a group of kiteboarders out on the river. I scrambled down through the beach brambles and took a few shots of the action.

Let’s Go Fly A Kite

I knew I wanted to get a 10 mile round trip in. My recent acquisition of a fitbit has me even more conscious than usual of making sure I get in a long haul over the weekends. I strapped on my daypack and camera and headed out the dusty trail.

Not that it was really dusty. Mostly the trail is well maintained gravel, until it becomes rougher, rockier terrain. The weather was outstanding; mild, sunny, and just a tiny bit crisp. Perfect fall conditions.

And there were nice colors just starting to peek through here and there as well. The view back toward Hood was quite nice, once I got turned around that way.

The trail was only busy in areas where people were fishing and once a pair of cyclists; otherwise I had the place all to myself.

I moved slow on the way in, pausing frequently to take photos – most of which did not turn out that well due to the harsh light conditions – and listening to Catch-22 on audiobook. Once I’d gotten to my turnaround point, I was hungry enough my primary concern was getting back to the car quickly and feeding myself something tasty for all my efforts.

While it had taken about 2 hours to get the 5 miles in at a loping pace with frequent photo breaks, the return trip took just about an hour at a brisk cross-country jogging pace. I felt a little beat up pounding over the uneven surface, and nearly tripped a few times over particularly recalcitrant rocks, but kept my pace and my feet till the end.