Sunday, July 11, 2021
- Starting Point: Coos Head/Charleson Bay
- End Point: Bullard Beach State Park
- Daily Miles: 20.7 miles
- Cumulative OCT miles: 291.3 miles
When I left off in my last post, I’d just walked across the mile-long McCullough Bridge over Coos Bay. Keith and Finn picked me up at Simpson Park near the city’s Visitor Center (which was still closed from the pandemic), and we drove back to Eugene to celebrate the Fourth of July holiday as a family.
I was now two-thirds of the way done with the OCT. I’d hiked the first 140-mile section from Ft. Stevens down to Depoe Bay before taking a short break to let some blisters on the balls of my feet heal.
Then I’d hiked the second 130-mile section of the trail between Depoe Bay down to Coos Bay before taking a few more days off for the holiday. Now it was time to head back to the Oregon Coast to finish the final 130-mile section between Coos Bay and the California border.
I can’t ever recall visiting any parts of the southern Oregon Coast before. I’ve never been to Bandon, Gold Beach, or Brookings.
All my prior visits to Southern Oregon have been along the I-5 corridor (Ashland, Medford, Grants Pass) or off to the east of the Cascade Mountains (like Crater Lake and Klamath Falls). So this entire section of the state will all be fresh scenery to me.
As I grappled with the map and where to pick up the trail again, I decided to embrace a bit of flexibility. Keith picked me up on the northern end of town, but the OCT didn’t really exist again until the outskirts of the city where it departed Coos Bay and went into the town of Charleston.
A hiking purist would probably feel the need to walk the 9 miles through North Bend/Coos Bay. But I felt absolutely no desire to hike on sidewalks meandering through residential neighborhoods and strip malls, or past the only commercial airport on the Oregon Coast.
Besides Coos Bay has a reputation for being pretty sketchy. It has a higher crime rate than most of Oregon, and it ranks in the top 25% of violent cities in the nation! So not exactly an appealing place to do an urban hike.
With all that in mind, I asked Keith to head directly to out to Coos Head. If I’d walked past Horsefall Beach and down the entire sandy spit (instead of taking the McCullough Bridge across Coos Bay), I would have ended at the 2,200 wide foot channel that sat just opposite this spot.
So, Coos Head seemed as good of a place as any other to begin the OCT again.
SEVEN DEVILS
Despite our early start today, we didn’t actually make it out to the Coos Head until mid-morning. It was a much longer drive back out to the coast than I’d remembered. Plus, Keith was driving in his casual, lazy beach-going pace.
When we eventually made it out to Charleston Bay, it was low tide, and there were a fair number of people out clamming in the mud flats. Apparently large cockles, gapers, and butter clams are all abundant here.
I’m not much of a shellfish person — notwithstanding the occasional bowl of clam chowder on cold winter day. So I probably couldn’t identify any clam by sight. But the clammers seemed to be having a good time out there with their tall rubber boots and shovels.
At the end of Coos Head, there was a Coast Guard tower overlooking the channel where boats entered the bay from the ocean. It was now 9:40 am, and I felt like I’d wasted the entire morning away in the car. Yet I was confident it wouldn’t take too long to get my hiking legs back. I just needed to get started. In less than a week I would be at the California-Oregon border!
Once Keith and Finn said their final goodbyes, I took a moment to follow a steep, partially hidden trail down to the water’s edge to get a few photos of the bay. After lowering myself down a section on a knotted rope to the exposed rocks below, I discovered the most unexpected sight.
There was a hidden tunnel right though the bluff where the Coast Guard tower stood, and it went all the way through the headland! I’m not sure of its intended purpose. It was clearly manmade, and not some sort of natural cave. But why was it here?
That would have to be a mystery for another day though. I needed to get hiking south if I wanted to make it down to tonight’s destination at Bullards Beach State Park. I had 20+ miles to get there and it was late enough into the day as it was.
The road south from Coos Head to the Cape Arago Highway took me down a dusty, dirt road with ‘No Trespassing’ signs off to my right. I’m pretty sure there was some sort of naval facility on the opposite side of the chainlink, but it was impossible to see what lie on the other side due to tall trees and bushes lining the fence.
Once back out to the paved highway again, I came to my first real decision of the day. The official OCT continued south toward Seven Devils Road. Meanwhile an unofficial detour led west out to Cape Arago.
But there was a catch. The road out to Cape Arago didn’t loop back to the OCT. It just came to a dead-end on the cape and hikers had to back track to this junction.
Part of me really wanted to head to Cape Arago, if for no other reason then to see the lighthouse out there. This was the only public lighthouse out here on the Oregon Coast that the trail didn’t actually go past.
But, the overlook where I could see the lighthouse was a 4.6-mile detour (roundtrip), and I wouldn’t even scratch the surface of the Cape Arago hiking trails that I wanted to explore. I’d rather come back later in the summer and and make it a separate hiking adventure. Today, I’d stick to the main OCT route and go to Seven Devils instead.
This decision, unfortunately, also meant I had a TON of paved roadwalking ahead of me. The OCT followed the Charleston to Bandon scenic driving route instead of Highway 101. On the upside, there were fewer cars out here on this desolated road.
But the downside was there was no real shoulder on either side of the road. One foot off the pavement, and you were either walking in tall grass or on an uncomfortable slope down toward a drainage ditch.
The route was hillier than I’d expected too, bringing me right into the heart of timberland. The terrain around me was a patchwork of tall forests and bare harvested land between the Pacific Ocean and the wide slough of Winchester Creek.
As I walked south, the sunshine seemed to be pounding down from above. It was easily the warmest day I’ve experienced on the OCT yet. Perhaps this was just because I was so far inland, blocked from all the coastal cooling breezes. Or maybe it was the black asphalt reflecting the heat right back toward me. Either way, I felt like I was roasting.
I’d been walking for close to two hours when I decided to take a break at the entrance of the National Estuarine Research Reserve and sit for a spell in the shade of the nearby tall trees.
I would have detoured down to see the facilities below, but there was a small printed sign announcing that the visitor center was currently closed, and the restrooms were only open from 8 am-4pm Monday through Friday.
Well that stinks! Today was a Sunday!
After my break, Seven Devils Road began a significant uphill climb again for the next hour before the OCT part ways with it turning right on a dirt road. After 7.4 miles of roadwalking I was finally able to give my feet a bit of a rest and walk on a natural surface again.
The dusty, dirt road descended down a number of switchbacks on its return to sea level, but I couldn’t see much because private property stood between me and the ocean. It felt like I was just walking on a random country road in the middle of nowhere.
I kept looking for a good spot to stop for lunch, but the entire route since the Estuarine Reserve was really unappealing. It was either narrow road shoulder or driveway entrances the entire way, and almost all of it was exposed to the baking sun.
After a while, the dirt road I was walking on suddenly changed back to pavement once again. I wasn’t expecting the transition, but it merely confirmed I’d just have to wait until I got to Seven Devils Recreation Site to eat. I wasn’t going to sit in a drainage ditch for lunch!
I finally got to Seven Devils a little before 2 pm, and by then, my stomach was complaining loudly. There were plenty of empty concrete picnic tables where I could stop and comfortably eat here, but the wind was now blowing so fiercely here that I didn’t dare risk it.
Despite the blazing temperatures earlier this morning, it was downright cold now. The clouds had rolled in over the past hour, blocking out the sun, and the ocean winds were blowing inland at 15+ mph. Heck, it was so chilly that I felt the need to add my puffy coat as an additional layer!
I’d been envisioning a panoramic lunch spot on the beach for the last hour, but the weather changed all that, and I went in search of somewhere out of the wind. Unfortunately, the only place that seemed to fit the bill was the concrete bathroom building next to the parking area.
And that’s how I spent the next 45 minutes resting up against the outside wall of a bathroom, as visitors came and went, giving me the strangest looks. I wasn’t complaining though. It was warm and out of the wind, even if the ambiance left much to be desired.
After lunch, I’d really hoped to be able to return to walking on the beach, but that wasn’t going to happen today. There was a prominent headland named Fivemile Point just south of Merchants Beach, and it was only passible at low tide.
It was far too late in the day to even attempt going around it now. High tide was at 2:51pm, and I was right in the midst of it. So, it was back out to paved road once again. I’d have to walk another four miles south to Whiskey Run Beach. All told, today seemed to be all about the roadwalking.
BULLARD BEACH
As I walked inland again, I could put my puffy away once again. The cold wind was blocked by forested headlands. The sun was no longer a problem either. Low gray clouds had replaced the sunny blue skies from this morning, and it was rather comfortable hiking weather now.
About three miles later, I eventually made it to the access point for Whiskey Run Beach. A number of vans were parked on the dead-end road, and people milled around in wetsuits.
At first, I thought they might be surfers. But I was wrong. As I stepped out onto the sand and looked out in the water, I realized these people weren’t here just for the waves. They were kite-boarders and windsurfers out here to take advantage of the wind!
Someone had parked an old white Ford Econoline van, completely covered in stickers, down on the beach. And a red triangular flag was mounted to its rear doors. The flag was snapping in the fierce wind, and it was clear these conditions weren’t going to die down anytime soon.
I’d need to layer up again if I wanted to stay warm! That’s for sure. As windy as it had been at Seven Devils, the air speed seemed to have doubled here, and the temperature was dropping rapidly.
Off to my left, the Bandon Dunes Golf Resort stood on the tall green cliffs towering above the beach. I didn’t see any golfers out playing in these ridiculous conditions this afternoon, but there were a few random golf balls scattered on the sand. They clearly must have caught flight on a much, much calmer day.
As I walked along the beach, the wind seemed to push every grain of sand along with with me. Angry gray clouds hung low in the sky, and it was apparent from the conditions around me that some bad weather was in my forecast soon.
The pervasive 25+ mph winds pushed at my back for the final four miles of the day. It was so loud that I eventually just pulled my Buff over my ears to dampen the noise. The windsurfers might love these elements, but for me, it was far less enjoyable.
Finally, around 5 pm, I came across the sandy trail leading me inland to Bullards Beach State Park. I could have continued hiking on the beach about a mile bit further south down to a paved park road, but, honestly, I was more than ready to find refuge from the insane wind.
My day hiking guidebook claimed this shortcut on Pearl’s Trail, would lead me to my destination at the campground. As such, I expected it to be a nice easy detour inland like the trails at South Beach State Park. At least that’s what it initially looked like was ahead.
In reality, the trail to the state park was quite a bit longer and more difficult that I’d anticipated. Pearl’s Trail seemed to be designed as a wide horse trail, and it was incredibly difficult to walk on because it super loose sand created by the animals’ weight.
The farther inland I seemed to walk, the softer the sand seemed to get. But at least I was sheltered from the wind and I could pull my Buff back down from my ears again.
Maybe I was just tired, but it seemed to take an eternity to reach the campground on this sandy trail. And then, once I got there, I had to wander around aimlessly searching for how to get to the park’s entrance from the maze of campsites. I had no clue where to go, and eventually just stopped to ask some car campers for directions.
Despite the difficulty getting there, the hiker-biker camp turned out to really nice. In fact, it was one of the nicest campgrounds on my entire thru-hike, and it only cost me $7 to stay the night (a dollar cheaper than all the campgrounds farther north up the coast).
There were plenty picnic tables and tent sites nestled in among some trees and shrubs. Plus, it had metal lockers with solar powered USB ports inside them once again. Woohoo!! I could save my external battery for another day and use this resource instead.
I already had some company at the hiker-biker camp too. A younger couple from Seattle had taken an Amtrak train as far south as Eugene, then rode their bikes west out to Florence before heading south on Highway 101 toward Northern California.
They seemed like a really nice couple, but I was still cold from the beach and not super chatty. I could feel some fat raindrops beginning to fall, and I just wanted to get my tent set up ASAP.
Afterward, I briefly joined them for dinner to hear about their adventure. They hadn’t had any of the wind issues on the highway that I’d experienced this afternoon. But, we all agreed that a storm was definitely headed our way tonight!
Highlights
- Finding a secret tunnel in Coos Head when I went down to the water’s edge to take a photo. What an unexpected treat to start off my day!
- Watching the windsurfers at Whiskey Run Beach playing in the waves. I might not have enjoyed the strong winds, but watching them play in the ocean sure provided me some entertainment value.
- Bullards Beach had one of the nicest hiker-biker camps I’ve encountered thus far. There were plenty of lockers, with a solar powered USB charging ports inside each one, and lots of flat spots too.
Challenges
- Today included so many miles of roadwalking on Seven Devils Road. Not a fun way to begin this final leg of my thru-hike, for sure. But at least there was less traffic than the typical Highway 101 road walks.
- The insane 25+ mph from Whiskey Run Beach to Bullard Beach meant the sand was abrading the backs of my legs the entire way. Plus, it was surprisingly COLD on the beach today!
- I’d been mentally prepared for a shortcut to the campground at the end of the day. In reality, it was just as physically tough as hiking the rest of the way out on the beach.