Friday, July 15, 2021
- Starting Point: Indian Sands Trailhead
- End Point: Crissy Field / California Border
- Daily Miles: 18.4 miles
- Cumulative OCT miles: 399.4 miles
It’s Day 18. My final day on the Oregon Coast Trail. This afternoon, I will finally reach the California border.
For those who’ve been following along for the entire journey, you know this isn’t my eighteenth consecutive day of hiking. Instead, I broke the trail into three sections of 130-140 miles apiece, and gave myself 6 days to hike each leg of the journey this summer.
In between each of these sections, I hit pause. I went back home to Eugene for a few days take care of some real world things (a dental visit, my DMV appointment, our son’s six-week follow-up after he broke his arm this spring and needed surgery to repair it, etc). And then I returned to the trail once again to pick up where I left off.
So, yes. If anyone asks, I can honestly say it only took me 18 days to hike the entire length of the Oregon Coast Trail. But, with those breaks factored in, it actually took me a bit over a month to complete the journey!
Looking back on it, I’m not sure this segmented approach is something I’d recommend to future OCT hikers. Yes, the “hike a week, then take a week off” methodology let my body and feet recover a bit more than continuously pounding the the trail every day. But, like many section hikers, I also feel like I never quite got into the mental groove of the hike.
And so, getting to the final day of this adventure just feels a bit different than my other long hikes. I’m excited to make it to the finish line, but I’m also feeling like something is askew.
BOARDMAN – PART II
Because I spent the evening at the campground in Gold Beach with my family last night, the morning started with a car ride back down Highway 101 to the Samuel Boardman Scenic Corridor. It was a cooler morning, so we made some coffee for the road, before setting off for the Indian Sands Trailhead to pick up where I last left off.
It was just after 9 am when we arrived at the empty lot, and I made the last minute decision to leave my trekking poles in the car. I figured it would be an easier day without them. I was nearly done with the pointless ups and downs (PUDs) of the Boardman Corridor.
Or so I thought…
The cars driving past me on down Highway 101 would exit the Boardman Corridor in a mere five miles from this spot. But the OCT would magically find a way to squeeze 7.5 miles into that same narrow swath of land! I spent the next three hours walking the trail as it zig-zagged back and forth on the hills and headlands beside the ocean.
The random views of turquoise blue coves helped bolster my enthusiasm, but this section of the trail took a lot more effort than I was ready to muster first thing in the morning.
After two miles, I had the option to continue on the shady forest trail or take a detour down to Whaleshead Beach and walk a bonus beach section. With very little hesitation, I picked the beach. Then I headed down a gravel road toward the sand below.
This particular beach gets its name from several giant rock islands just off the beach. Viewed from afar, they look like enormous whales swimming toward the sand.
The tide was heading out now, leaving small pools behind in between the algae and kelp covered rocks. And, like some many other times on this hike, I had the beach all to myself. Nonetheless this particular stretch didn’t seem nearly as magical as most beaches at low tide.
Arizona Beach may have spoiled me for any other beach from here on out the Oregon Coast. The beauty of that one spot is now my fondest memory from this entire OCT hike.
So by comparison, Whalsehead beach was just ok. It was kind of a like a handsome person who lives in Nebraska. Sure, he might be super good-looking compared to all the people he grew up with. But, when you put him in a room with Brad Pitt, and you start to see his subtle flaws.
Arizona Beach was my Brad Pitt of beaches. So poor Whaleshead didn’t stand a chance this morning.
I made my way to the end of the mile-long beach before coming upon a waterfall trickling down the hillside. Just beyond it I could see the faint outline of a trail back up to the OCT. Here, someone cut steps into the muddy slope, and they’d hardened in the sun to form a sort of rugged earthen staircase for me to climb.
At the top, as the trail led into the treeline, and the slippery mud returned in earnest. Giant sword ferns and vines grew across the path making it incredibly difficult to see where I was supposed to go next.
The next ten minutes were a complete bushwhack in an effort to rejoin the OCT. I knew the trail had to be up the hillside somewhere. I’d eventually intersect with it if I just kept heading up,.
In those moments on this hillside, I really wished I hadn’t left my trekking poles back in the car. The slick mud on the slope had me sliding one step backward for every three steps I took forward. My progress was slow, but I finally made it back on the main trail after a frustratingly slow climb up the hillside.
CAPE FERRELO
Back in the dark, sitka-shaded forest, I continued to follow the PUDs (pointless ups and downs) as the OCT seemingly followed every curve of the coastline.
My next foray out into the sunshine took me out of the dense forest and over to the House Rock overlook, where a monument to Samuel Boardman stood waiting for me.
As I ate a morning snack and soaked up some sun, I learned that Sam Boardman was considered the father of the Oregon parks system. An early conservationist, he was named as the first Superintendent of State Parks, where he served for more than two decades from 1929-1950.
He’s also credited with transforming all the small wayside parks along the coast into state parks, preserving much of what the Oregon Coast is today. So, I supposed it’s fitting that this corridor is named for him.
At 470 feet above the ocean, House Rock was also my high point for the day. The next 14 miles to the California border would be pretty much downhill from here.
Back on the trail, I returned to more shade as I wound my though trees and plants toward Cape Ferrelo. And, every quarter of a mile or so I’d pass a laminated sign tacked to a wooden post announcing that the trail through the scenic corridor was officially open, but warning that it wasn’t maintained.
As I descended above a secluded pocket beach, I left the forests behind for tall grasses and wildflowers. The orange-red of indian paintbrushes was mixed in with purple asters, yellow monkey flowers, and white yarrow.
Ahead, Cape Ferralo protruded out into the ocean with the dirt trail winding over it toward the blue ocean. The midday sun shone overhead as I worked my way up and over the cape’s saddle and down toward my last sandy beach walk before the border – Lone Ranch Beach.
Just ahead, the bushy trail had been freshly trimmed and cleared, and I could hear the whir of a small horsepower engine. The noise got louder as I descended, and before too long, I saw a young man in an Oregon State Park uniform with a weedwacker making back and forth sweeping gestures to cut back the brush encroaching on the trail.
He paused his work as during my final approach, and I thanked him for making the trail so nice. Even though there were signs announcing the trail was unmaintained, his presence here showed that things were starting to get up and running again for the summer season.
I didn’t realize how much brush he was eliminating until I got about 50 yards past him. Suddenly the trail transitioned from a three-foot path, wide enough for horseback riders to navigate down, to a 6-inch ribbon of trail overgrown chaos with razor sharp grasses up to my elbows. Time for more bushwhacking. Sigh.
BROOKINGS
Another quarter mile below, Lone Ranch Beach was bustling with beachgoers. It was near lunchtime and families filled all the picnic tables up near the beach’s entrance. Meanwhile, kids frolicked up and down the sand and at the edge of the water.
I trod across the beach quickly. Then headed back the small trail back into the shaded woods again. Near the forest’s entrance, a sign warned of poison oak ahead, while small hand-made wooden signs tacked to trees pointed me through a network of trails sandwiched between Highway 101 and the ocean.
I finally made to the end of the Samuel Boardman Scenic Corridor near Rainbow Rock, and the forest abruptly ended at a condo development. Signs warned hikers not to trespass through the neighborhood, so I curved my way inland toward the sounds of the highway to begin my roadwalk into Brookings.
The commercial part town was still several miles ahead yet, but the roads on the outskirts were dominated by logging trucks traffic heading to South Coast Lumber. As I walked down the sidewalk, I could see semi-truck after semi-truck lining up in the lumber yard to drop their loads of freshly harvested logs.
A litter farther down, a bike path diverted foot traffic off the highway, and I followed it down into Harris Beach State Park. This was the last campground before the border, and it’s such a popular park that they had to begin limiting the number of days people could stay in hiker-biker campsites.
Down near the water, I spotted a few more rocks off the rugged coastline before I left the shady park for the sidewalks of Brookings. Time to head into my last town on the Oregon Coast.
It was nearing 2 pm now and I was starving. I hadn’t stopped for lunch back at Lone Ranch Beach because I’d hoped to find somewhere to grab a quick bite in town. After a quick scan of Google Maps, I had the perfect place too — Chetco Brewing Co.
The tap room and outdoor seating was open this afternoon, and they had a vegan food truck serving up Impossible Burgers. I was tempted to order a flight of celebratory beer, but I knew I still had a 6.5 miles of walking after lunch, so I reined it in an just ordered a pint of the Elmorado IPA.
With a full belly, I was ready to tackle the final stretch of the OCT. After departing the brewery, I found my way back to Highway 101 and I followed it out of town and over the Chetco River and down to the Port of Brookings.
The harbor was full of boats this time of year and it was one of those beautiful sunny days that seemed perfect for a sail.
The final lighthouse on the Oregon Coast was just above the harbor, but, just like the lighthouse near Yachats, this lighthouse was a privately owned. They didn’t permit visitors, so the best view I’d get was a brief glimpse from the parking lot of the Best Western Inn at the harbor.
Leaving the Chetco River behind, the OCT climbed a short hill on a sidewalk, and was flanked by a tall concrete retaining wall covered with children’s chalk drawings. Then I was on Oceanview Drive and back to roadwalking on a lonely rural road on my final 4.5 miles south toward California.
Despite its name, Oceanview Drive had absolutely zero oceans from the where I stood. Large houses dominated the 700-foot wide strip of land between the road and the Pacific Ocean, and the next few hours were dull and monotonous.
About halfway through this stretch, I passed McVay Rock State Recreation Site, which would have provided me access to the ocean for one last beach walk south. However, it was near high tide now, so the ocean was too high to safely walk the rocky shoreline down to the Oregon-California border just ahead.
Instead I’d have to continue to follow Oceanview Drive, walking along a series of open fields and ranches. The only interesting sight all afternoon was the herd of donkeys watching me as I walked past.
Up ahead, the road curved back toward Highway 101, and I was almost there! Finally!
My last water crossing of the OCT was the Winchuck River. From the concrete bridge on Highway 101, I could see the river’s wide outlet dumping into the ocean. Several fisherman stood on the river’s muddy banks , but I was laser-focused on one thing. The next quarter mile in front of me.
THE FINISH
Just beyond the river, a trail cut down into Crissy Field State Park, where Keith and Finn were waiting for me near the visitor center. We’d take the final steps of this journey out on the beach together and then I’d be done.
I’d walked 400 miles, almost exactly, from the Columbia River down to the California Border. This afternoon, my journey would finally be complete. I’d now seen more of my home state on foot that I ever thought possible on this hike.
Almost everyone who walks through Oregon does it on the Pacific Crest Trail, hiking their way through the Cascade Mountains past Crater Lake and the Three Sisters Wilderness on their way to the Bridge of the Gods. But, I took a different journey. I walked down the entire Oregon Coast.
Along the way, I saw the phenomenal diversity of the coast – from rugged, rocky coastline to the tall Oregon Dunes. I stood at sea level then climbed more than a 1,000 feet above it on forested headlands. I’ve walked through forests, crossed rivers, trod on soft sand (and rough kitty litter), and walked the narrow paved shoulder of highways. I saw lighthouses, drank in local microbreweries, watched seals frolic, and made friends with some really cool cyclists. And now it’s come to an end.
All that was left was to walk past the Crissy Field visitor center out to the beach and find my way the final few steps to the California border.
Keith and Finn walked with me out to the beach and the three of us headed south toward the spot where my GPS marked the border between Oregon and California. Of course there was nothing marking the transition out here on the sand, so I had to draw my own celebratory mark, just as I had with the 100, 200, and 300 miles marks.
Unfortunately, I had to draw more than once because it was now high tide and my first version was swept away by an unexpectedly large wave. Never turn your back on the Oregon Coast. It can be vicious!
We headed inland from here back to the park entrance and out onto Highway 101. I had one final photo I wanted Keith to take.
Highlights
- Walking on the final beaches along the trail today. I think I’m going to miss the Oregon Coast.
- Coming upon an Oregon State Parks employee doing trail maintenance and grooming the trail near Cape Ferrelo. What a treat to see someone taking care of it.
- Enjoying a beer and a late lunch at Chetco Brewing Co. Definitely worthy of a stop.
Challenges
- My heart wasn’t into the PUDs in the Samuel Boardman Scenic Corridor, but at least I learned a little bit about the man this section was named after.
- Traipsing through more poison oak. I already have a rash on my ankle from yesterday’s foray over Cape Sebastian, so I’m not looking forward to seeing how much more I got today!