Wednesday, July 14, 2021

  • Starting Point:  Humbug Mountain State Park
  • End Point:  Patterson Bridge / Gold Beach
  • Daily Miles:  24.8 miles 
  • Cumulative OCT miles:  359 miles

I felt considerably warmer sleeping up at Humbug Mountain State Park last night. I’m not sure if that’s because it’s finally the middle of July and the days are getting warmer. Or whether being a little farther inland and away from the coastal breezes played a part.

I suspect both factors played a part. But you have to also add in that I’m further south in latitude on the Oregon Coast now too. I’m only a few days from the California border – with only 65-ish miles left on this journey. 

Much to my disappointment, the warm weather didn’t magically cure everything overnight. My right knee was still acting angry this morning, even though I popped an 800 mg Motrin pill before going to sleep. Walking on all that soft ‘kitty litter’ sand between Bandon and Port Orford really took its toll on my body.

HUMBUG MOUNTAIN

I got a slightly later start to my day, and didn’t depart the hiker-biker camp until after 7:35 am this morning. Most of the cyclists camping near me were up and making breakfast before I left, but only Peter (the German) was rolling out before me.

Getting back to the trail meant I needed to head back toward the front of the state park. This is where the Old Coast Highway stood, and I saw a tall signpost near the campground’s entrance pointing the way to the OCT.

Initially, the trail seemed to head in the same direction as the road exiting the park. But then it made a sharp turn inland. I was heading up switchbacks and climbing – no longer in sight of the road.

As the narrow dirt trail ascended several hundred feet, part of me wondered whether I’d somehow gotten onto the wrong trail. Was this the trail up to the summit of Humbug Mountain? It sure felt like it. I was climbing and climbing, and didn’t seem to be heading south as I should be.

Self-doubt continued to creep in, and I was nearly ready to double back to the campground when the trail finally crested a ridge and started to descend. As it changed directions toward the coast again, I breathed a deep sigh of relief. I wasn’t climbing Humbug Mountain after all.

(I’d later discover during one of my breaks that Humbug Mountain was completely on the other side of Highway 101. It was no where near my location, and I was worrying needlessly.)

As the trail descended once again, I could hear the loud vehicle traffic on Highway 101 down below me. Brush Creek ran under the wispy trees between me and the highway, and before too long, I was parallel to the road. I could even spot the cars and cyclists whizzing by next to me, though few of them knew I was even there because the trail was so well hidden.

A mile and a half after leaving the campground, the trail followed the creek underneath Highway 101. Then it deposited me into a small picnic area completely devoid of cars and visitors. This seemed like an unusual spot for a rest area, and clearly it wasn’t very popular.

From here I had braced myself for the upcoming six miles of walking on the shoulder of the highway. I prepared myself for two hours of boredom as every single one of the cyclists I’d seen back at camp rode past me on their way south.

ARIZONA BEACH

The walk along this stretch of highway was actually far more scenic than I expected it to be though. Behind me, I could see the Humbug Mountain rising up in the distance while a sandy beach stretched out below. 

There was no way for me to get up and down the 200-foot cliffs to walk that beach, so I’d had to suffice with the views from the roadway.

Up ahead, I could see more rocks jutting up off the coast like little pointy islands, followed by the conical shape of Lookout Rock on the edge of the coast. The sky and ocean were both so blue, the two fields seemed to merge together out on the horizon. I’ll admit, it was a pretty spectacular sight for a boring roadwalk.

After two hours of walking on the road’s shoulder, I was nearly to the entrance for Arizona Beach, and the excitement was building. I’d read about a hidden sea cave just south of beach that I really wanted to see with my own eyes. It’s only accessible at low tide. Yet, lucky for me, low tide was at 9:52 am today. I would get there at the perfect time this morning to experience it.

The entrance for Arizona Beach was a trickier than I expected. Instead of just taking an easy right turn off the highway toward the beach. I was thwarted, and I had to walk an extra quarter mile down the highway before turn inland, and then looping around on this ridiculous cloverleaf route that went underneath Highway 101 on the way to the beach. 

I would have absolutely loved to simply walk down the banks of the highway, but there was nowhere good to take a shortcut. The entire hillside on either side of the highway was completely covered in blackberry brambles, and attempting to traipse though them would cut my legs to ribbons.

Arizona Beach was worth the wait though. Up ahead of me was another amazing low-tide feast. This one was better than Cannon Beach. And better than Bandon. It was simply amazing!

Giant rocks were now completely exposed from the ocean, and the kelp that limply clung to them made them look giant sheep dogs guarding the beach. 

Fat orange starfish sat resting atop flat rocks on the edge of tide pools, while others clung to the side of mussel covered rocks. Lilac colored sea snail shells clustered together. Everywhere I looked, there was something new grabbing my attention, and I was enamored!

Up ahead, waves crashed on boulders at the water’s edge. And further out, they crested under the arches and keyholes of larger sea stacks. It was the most magical place I’ve ever been. Disneyland couldn’t even come close to this beach!!

And the best part was I had the entire thing completely to myself! Not another soul was around. It was 100% mine to enjoy!

Of all the places I’ve seen on the OCT, Arizona Beach during low tide is, hands down, my favorite spot of all of them! I don’t even had the words to capture the beauty. And I hadn’t even gotten to the hidden sea cave yet!

At the far end of the beach, three isolated peaks stood before me. Two were attached to a peninsula with a flat gap between them, while the third was an island out to sea. Together, the peaks forms Sisters Rocks.

The largest of the three mounds was where I was headed. The backside of that headland was where the sea cave was supposed to be located.

After crossing a flat saddle, I had to scramble over some rocks toward a small jeep trail that led to a deep quarry pit. As I stood on the edge looking down into the pit, I could see roiling water of the ocean dozens of feet below. 

Further south beyond the quarry, the rock scrambling became more difficult as I made my way over boulders that ranged in size from toaster ovens to refrigerators. There was no actual path here. I was just blindly heading south to where the ocean curved around the largest of ‘the sisters.’

As I crested the saddle, I could now see the third sister to my south. The rounded hump of an island reminded me of the top of a forest ranger’s Smokey Bear hat. Even the olive color was spot on.

I picked my way across the rocks until I could see a large cave opening off to my right and hear the echoes of waves crashing inside it. Finally! The entrance of the hidden sea cave I’d come here to visit.

I dropped my pack on some dry rocks and stripped off my shoes and socks before heading into the mouth of the dark cave. Waves were coming in through one of the other entrances and flooding the cave higher and higher each time.

I didn’t want to get swept in or knocked off balance, so I only ventured into the cave about a twenty feet or so while recording a video of the waves. Even at low tide, they came up to my knees and the power of the water crashing off the walls left me feeling cautious.

After a few minutes, I returned to the sunshine and rocks where I’d left my gear. This small little cave was amazing, and it made me appreciate Arizona Beach all the more.

Once I got my shoes and socks back on, I climbed up the hillside trail up to the Sisters Rock trailhead up on the highway. A narrow dirt path rose above the ocean and provided some pretty awesome views of the coastline ahead.

Today was shaping up to be a really great day. The prior six miles of roadwalking this morning was 100% worth getting to see Arizona Beach and Sisters Rock! I’m so glad I was able to time my arrival with low tide, because I really would have regretted missing every part of that experience.

ROADWALKING & Graves

Once back up at the trailhead, it was time to roadwalk yet again. I was only 10 miles into the day, and I still had another 15 to go if I wanted to make it all the way to Gold Beach this evening.

The next hour was spent roadwalking on the busy road shoulder of Highway 101 on the way to Ophir Beach. The sun was high in the sky and the temperature was soaring. There was little wind, and I wished I had an umbrella to block the intense rays beating down on the crown of my head. 

It seemed to take much longer than and hour to get to the beach access point, and I kept looking for somewhere to cut over to the beach early. Unfortunately, the land off to my right was some sort of field, and a barbed wire fence was strung along its boundary.

Three miles after I left the Sister Rock Trailhead, I finally made to the Ophir Beach trailhead where a sandy trail wound through the dunes toward the beach. 

It was 12:20 pm now, and I was starving. So I searched for some low shrubs that might provide a tiny bit of shade as I ate lunch before heading to the beach again. I didn’t laze around too long though as I was running low on water. And it was still three more miles before I’d get to the next town with a water spigot or convenience store. 

When I got to the town of Nesika Beach about an hour later, I wasn’t very impressed. With a meager population of 315 people, it nothing more than a post office and a small general store for the community. 

And honestly, if I hadn’t just walked up there from the beach, I would have thought you’d transported me to somewhere in rural Oregon miles from the coast. It didn’t have any sort of beach or touristy vibe of the northern cities like Cannon Beach or Yachats. Instead, it had that dry, abandoned feeling that reminded me more of places in the far southeastern corner of the the state. 

The general store had gatorade and ice cream though, so I wasn’t complaining too much on this hot July afternoon. I sat at a picnic table out front of the store – enjoying my snacks in the shade – while I stripped off my socks and gave my feet some much needed rest.

After 30 minutes, I was back at it again and walking on the main road south out of town before turning right onto a small trail that seemed completely out of place. The short trail led to the Geisel Monument, a family cemetery where John Geisel and his three sons (age 5, 7, and 9) were killed in 1956 during the Rogue Indian Wars.

Prior to 1830, it’s estimated that 9,500 indigenous people lived in this area. However, tensions between the natives and white settlers in the Rogue Valley increased after gold was discovered, and a series of violent exchanges ensured.

It’s interesting that a monument was placed here for these three white victims of the violence, but no similar marker acknowledges the 250 or so indigenous people killed in these wars.

GOLD BEACH

South of the Geisel Monument, the OCT crossed to the east side of Highway 101, and followed the Old Coast Road once again. 

Instead of traversing through a scenic state park like the old coastal highway had done yesterday afternoon, it was just two miles of dirt roads that climbed in elevation past family farms and horse ranches.

Metal signs were posted on tall trees warning me that I was walking along private property, and several bullet holes punctured the metal. I wasn’t sure what to make of that. Was it a veiled threat that trespassers might be shot? Or just some bored kids using the signs for target practice?

Yep, this was definitely feeling like southern Oregon, for sure. All that was missing was a ‘State of Jefferson‘ sign.

After finishing up my stretch on the Old Coast Road, it was another brief road walk on Highway 101 to Otter Point, and then I was back on the beach again for the final 4-mile stretch down to the Rogue River.  

The trail down to the beach went though a forest of trees that I wasn’t expecting, with their branches curving out like tentacles covered in moss.

A scenic lookout spot with a wooden bench showed the beach down below, with nary a soul walking along the water. And at the trail’s end, I found myself dumped out onto super soft sand.

High tide was at only an hour away, so each incoming wave seemed to eating up more of the exposed beach, forcing me onto the softer dunes to my left.

Walking on these sandy dunes wasn’t quite as bad as the kitty litter of a few days ago, but it was only a half notch on the improvement scale. The soft sand was deep, and it seemed to swallow up my feet with each step, forcing my right knee to ache with each step of forward progress.

For the next four miles, I desperately longed for some hard-packed sand and an easier walking experience. But mostly, I just wanted to get to the Rogue River. The baking sun and constant wind followed me south as the coast curved from Bailey Beach toward the rock jetty as the mouth of the river. 

Once I finally got to the jetty at the river’s outlet, I turned inland to walk along the north edge of the Rogue River while staring at the curved arches of the Patterson Bridge nearly a mile away. It wasn’t the longest or as highest bridge I’d walked across on this journey, but its seven arched spans were still pretty darn impressive.

Small boats floated in the mouth of the river, and watching them helped to take my mind off the throbbing in my right knee and my hot, swollen feet. Today was going to be nearly 25 miles of hiking. Yet once I crossed over to the far end of the bridge, Keith and Finn would be waiting for me.

My family was camping down on the south end of Gold Beach at the Turtle Rock Campground this week. So I wouldn’t have to set up my tent tonight. I would get a nice hot shower and town food, and some clean clothes. Oh, it all sounded so, so good!


Highlights

  • My visit to Arizona Beach during low tide was the highlight of the day, and possibly the entire thru-hike! What a feast for the eyes.
  • I loved carefully treading North Sister’s into the “hidden cave” and letting the waves crash around my legs. I was a bit of a chicken and didn’t wander in too far, but I felt I still got the full experience.
  • Crossing the bridge into Gold Beach and meeting up with my family was such a great feeling. The town food was even better!

Challenges

  • This morning’s climb out of Humbug State Park left me wondering if I somehow made a wrong turn. I didn’t expect that steep turn inland first thing this morning. A better map (or real guidebook) might have mentally prepared me for that a bit better.
  • My right knee is really starting to act up. I hope I can tough it out for the final 40 miles of the trail.