Cannon Beach, Saddle Mountain and Hood River, Oregon

Saturday, August 28, 2010: Cannon Beach, Saddle Mountain and Hood River, OR


My Friday morning in Manzanita turned into a fantastic day- I ventured north to Cannon Beach and rented some surf gear for the three hours that were left of sunshine. With the Saturn rockin' the beachy LA look with a surfboard strapped on top, I headed into Ecola State Park for Indian Beach, a local 'hot spot for surfing'- or rather, the beginners surfing haven.

Posted at the entrance to the Nehalem State Park camping area... and along any coastal lowlands. Good to note.

Spectacular Oregon coast

The water was ICY cold. I was without gloves or hoodie and couldn't feel my hands. When I got caught in the surf, I felt like I was in a washing machine of ice. But the sun was out, the shoreline spectacular, and the water full of keen newbie surfers. While I wasn't ripping up any 'gnarly waves,' I did have a fantastic time and it felt great to be in the water again.

Now isn't this just the schnazziest sportsmobile around.

Surfing, dude.
Indian Beach, Oregon.

I enjoyed a tasty local IPA at Bill's Tavern in Cannon Beach, a sufer/vacation town full of tourists on this busy Friday evening.

Cannon Beach, Oregon.
This view + Bill's Tavern IPA= excellence.

I was headed inland to Saddle Mountain State Park for some 'primitive camping.' By State standards, this just means no water or electricity directly to each site. Hardly primitive, but cheaper, so I really can't complain. Following the 7 mile windy road going a mere 10km/hour to get to the mountain summit trailhead, I came to a dark parking area with only a few of the ten sites remaining. In my hustle and bustle to set up shop at my bush campsite, the inevitable happened. I'm surprised it hasn't happened yet.

The short version: 6 cans of Coors light was a small price to pay to regain access to my car.

I locked myself out of the Saturn. No extra keys, no hidden key.... no CAA. Somewhat reckless, I know. It happened all the same, and while I didn't panic- I was FRUSTRATED. In the car were not only my wallet, but my cellphone. Oh, and the dry newspaper I was getting to start a fire, leading to the realization that I was without keys.

I spent a solid 1/2 hour hunting through the few things I'd brought to my hike-in campsite, just to be sure. I then spent another 15 minutes just standing by the car, racking my brain for things to do. I pried at windows. I pushed and pulled the sunroof. I layed underneath the hood, in the pitch dark in the middle of the woods, scanning for a 'golden' extra key hidden underneath. No cigar.

At this point, my mind was racing, "Worst case scenario? I break a window. And drive like a true hippie with plastic and duct tape."

Before jumping to the window smashing step, I figured I'd best ask for help. I meandered the 500m over to the next site,

"Hi! Is there any chance you happen to have a coat hanger?" I asked.

"A whut?" asks one of the two men sitting around the roaring campfire.
"A coat hanger. It appears as though I've locked myself out of my car," I say, as helplessly sounding as I can muster up.

"Ohhh. Hmm.. I dunno..." the one mutters.

"Or the ability to break into a car? That would also be helpful."

The one woman looks over at one of the men and smirks, "Ray! Ray, you must be able to do that!"

(I don't want to think about why he "must be able to do that.") Instead, I jumped at the opportunity for a solution that didn't involve window smashing.

"Really????" I ask eagerly.


"Hah...well, I can take a look," says Ray from the far side of the campsite, hatchet in hand.

Ray, a middle-aged portugese man standing no more than 5'5 tall, drenched in cologne, tosses the hachet and grabs a beer to follow me to the car lot.

Ray inspects the Saturn, flashlight in hand, peering through the windows, running his hands over the door frames and checking out the locks.

After a run-over of both sides of the car, Ray says,

"My daughter has a very similar car."

Long pause. (I'm thinking.... okay, annnnd?)

``I think we can do it," Ray pauses again, ``You know, this car has been broken into before."

"What?"

"Yes m'aam. Here, come feel the difference between the doors."

Well by golly. There was a difference. Apparently the driver's side door has been pried open before- just enough room for a coathanger to reach the open/close button. I honestly don't remember if this is because I've locked myself out before and this was previously attempted, or maybe once someone did break into the Saturn. In any case, this was great news given the circumstances!

"Now I need to find something that will work," says Ray. He wanders off back to his campsite and I man the car. aka: I was useless. The classic helpless female.

Ray comes back 10minutes later, his wife in tow holding the flashlight, with what appears to be a tent pole from the fly of his tent.


"Let's try this," he says.

The wife held the flashlight, Ray wedged the pole through the door, and I watched in stressful anticipation.

He carefull jiggled, shifted, pulled, and then finally.....



'Click.'



The doors were open!!!!!!


I was jumping up and down and clapping my hands like an 8-year-old who'd just gotten the newest hot wheels set for Christmas.


"Oh my god! YAY!!!! Do I owe you some beer! I'll give you all I've got!" I exclaimed.


"Haha.. ok," Ray pauses, "What kind of beer do you drink?"


"It's Coors light. I hope that's okay! If there was somewhere nearby to get you your favourite I do it!" I blurt.


"Coors is fine with me," says Ray, grinning.


"Great!" chirps in Ray's wife. I later overheard them giggling about the extra beer they'd scored.

I dig out all of the cans I had left from the cooler- six in all, and hand over the box to Ray, hardly paying my dues for the lifesaving he'd provided.

Cradling the beer, Rays asks, "So where are all your friends?"

Great. Not only does he think I'm an idiot for locking my keys in the car, but an idiot with no friends. I explain my travel adventures and he still seems confused.

"Oh you know, I'm just 'enjoying the great outdoors'" I say... hoping the old cliche will end the questions.


"Well Bonita, safe travels," says Ray as he and his wife hug me goodbye.

I return to my site, with a renewed appreciation for the simple things- you know, like having access to your vehicle, passport, cellphone, wallet etc. I've also imposed a new protocol for the ins-n-outs of the Saturn.

With keys in hand, I slept well that night, deep in the bush of Saddle Mountain State Park.


I woke up on Saturday morning chilly, but ready to get outside and hit the road again. I was mere feet from the Saddle Mountain summit trailhead so figured the 2mile hike (1600ft ascent) would be a great way to start my day. I was on the trail by 7:30am and pushed myself up as quickly as possible. The views along the way were fantastic- across the Oregon mountains, with the sunshine and clouds moving quickly all around me. The peak was an icy wind, but I presevered with the self-timer photos until I got a picture that I was actually in.

Lots of clearcutting in the sprawling forests below

On my way up Saddle Mountain

Almost at the top...

Saddle Moutain Summit

Packed up and on the road east, I was amongst busy Saturday traffic heading west to the beach and east into Portland. I passed through Portland quickly- but took in the cityscape as best I could while singing along to Bohemian Rhapsody. That's right- a local radio station was playing Bohemian Rhapsody. If there's one thing I've been very impressed with along Oregon and Washington's west coasts is the radio. I pulled into Hood River mid-afternoon to find a lightly gusting wind. It was just picking up and the sand-dune launch area packing up. I touched base with a couple schools to inquire about renting, but I was shit out of luck. After talking to 4 schools and several randoms, there wasn't a 10 or 12m kite to be had in all of Hood River- they were all out in lessons. I was disappointed, but made arrangements to get out on a demo kite the next day. Lesson learned: bring my gear!

Hood River, OR. The Columbia River Gorge.

Lots of wineries and fruit orchards- this one with a view of Mt. Hood

To ease the disappointment, I scoped out some shops downtown and found a bike rental place. I was out on a sweet mountain bike for the last 2.5hours of the day and rode some great trails just outside of Hood River. After a pint of a local brew in town, I made my way to Tucker Park along Hood River and set up camp. I'm blogging from camp, enjoying the sunset with wine and chocolate. The place is rammed with weekend windsurfers and kiters from Washington, California, and Idaho... even two or three from BC. This is definitely the life.