Sunday June 28, 2021

  • Starting Point:  South Beach State Park
  • End Point:  Beachside State Park / Wakonda Beach
  • Daily Miles:  18.3 miles 
  • Cumulative OCT miles:  176.9 miles

I slept extremely well last night at the South Beach hiker-biker camp and woke to a dewy morning. The outside of my tent fly was completely covered in moisture, but I’d stayed nice and dry inside my double-walled tent. A minor win to be sure!

Despite the early hour, I wasn’t the first one up. The cycling duo I’d met yesterday, Tom and Will, were already making breakfast at one of the picnic tables on the far end of the camp. I eagerly asked if I could join them since my end of the camp was an atrocious mess.

The faux hikers who’d shared this side of the hiker-biker camp last night built a campfire in the fire pit and sat around it until late. One guy lightly strummed his guitar while the rest of them talked, ate, and drank some wine. They weren’t any louder than typical car campers, but they’d left behind a giant mess when they eventually went to bed.

A half-eaten rotisserie chicken carcass was sitting out on the picnic table, along with their tipped over red Solo cups and tub of macaroni salad. Two squirrels were currently on the table, feasting on some of the leftovers, making me super glad I’d decided to store my food bag in the storage locker last night. 

I was a bit repulsed by the whole mess. So I very relieved when Tom welcomed me over to their table. I ate my oatmeal while listening as the two of them chatted about their day’s itinerary. It sounded like they had a big day ahead of them. They’re going to try to get 70+ miles down the coast all the way to Umpqua Lighthouse State Park. It will take me several days to make it that far on foot!

ONA BEACH

I made an early departure, leaving the hiker-biker camp by 7:20 am, and followed the closest trail back out to the beach. Unfortunately, when I crested the grassy dunes, I’d discover there were no grand ocean views. The fog had rolled in up to the foredunes and the only reason I knew the Pacific was somewhere to my west was from the smell and the sound.

Several other part patrons were out on the beach though, and I came across at least a half a dozen dogs running or walking on the sand. But, I rarely saw them until they were 100 feet away. The fog was just too thick.

If you have any phobias about dogs, or just don’t like when people let their dogs off leash, then the OCT might be not be the trail for you. I probably encounter 15-30 people walking their dogs off-leash on the beach each day.

Most of the time, the animals are extremely well-behaved, but every once in a while, I’ll have to stop dead in my tracks as a dog comes running toward me at full speed while a person yells the dog’s name in vain. (Based on my very unscientific observations, Bella, Charlie, Daisy, and Thor seem to be the most popular dog names ever!)

With the exception of the dog walkers though, the beach was completely empty today. It was just me and a bunch of footprints. So I walked south at a leisurely pace, waiting for my joints to warm up, and wondered about the tracks in the sand. Were these from beach walkers or from other hikers?

I’ve yet to see any OCT hikers since my first day on this trail. I haven’t passed any of them as I walked through town. Or seen a soul wearing anything larger than a daypack. It’s kind of weird how few people seem to be hiking this trail. 

You’d think I’d come across at least one hiker here or there. But maybe we’re all just moving in parallel to each other, covering similar distances, and never destined to meet. Even though the trail is 400-ish miles long, it isn’t popular like the AT or PCT. 

After 6 miles of beach hiking, I reached my first obstacle of the day, Beaver Creek. The fog was still lingering over the sand, but I could see the fast moving creek was only about 30 feet across where I’d encountered it. Easy enough to ford without searching for a bypass.

I stripped off my shoes and socks, and waded through the shin-deep water feeling the soft sand and mud envelop my bare feet. The best method was to move quickly so I didn’t sink too far with each step and waste energy.

On the opposite side, there was a nice wide beach named Ona Beach where I could see a handful of people sitting on the sand. Brian Booth State Park was just a bit farther inland, where adventurous visitors could paddle boats several miles up Beaver Creek into the estuary and marshes.

This seemed like a good stop for a bit to leg my feet and legs dry off while I had a small snack. And then it was back to the beach again.

It was low tide now, so I was treated to some interesting sights as I walked away from Ona Beach. The receding water revealed tide poles, and the rocks seemed bright green from the algae. Small round knobs rose up from the reefs, and reminded me of the popular arcade game Whack-a-Mole.

The morning fog began to burn off during the next two miles of beach walking, and a series of rugged rocks emerged off the coastline just north of Seal Rock. Violent waves crashed against the rocks spraying water 10 or more feet in the air providing me with quite a show.

Then the rocky bluff of Seal Rock blocked my progress and it was time to head back inland.

Looking back on it now, I probably should had just walked around Seal Rocks using the highway lined with small beach homes. That route would have been barely more than three-quarters of a mile of flat, easy walking. 

However, the maps from the Oregon Coast Trail Foundation directed me to cross to the opposite side of Highway 101 and head up NW Seal Rock Street instead. This required an unnecessarily steep climb up a paved road lined with signs for the closest tsunami assembly area, followed by a mile-long walk through a boring, rural neighborhood without any views. 

ALSEA RIVER

Once I returned to the beach again, I had another hour of beach walking toward the next big obstacle, the Alsea River. I’d need to exit the beach just north of Waldport and walk over a sleek 3,011-foot long bridge that reminded me of a 1960’s Star Trek version of the future.

The Alsea Bay Bridge was built fairly close to the river’s outlet, so it only required a 3-mile roadwalk to get around (and over) the river before returning to the beach again. But, as it turned out, the sights along this detour were 100% well worth the journey.

As I walked across the sidewalk on the eastern side of the bridge, I could see a giant sandbar running down the center of the Alsea River. Below me seals were frolicking in the water, swimming up and downstream parallel to the sand bar, while playing in the current. 

A bit farther upriver, an entire colony of seals was out of the water and sunning their fat little bodies on the sandy isle, seemingly without a care in the world. Then something happened and they all made a crazy beeline toward the water.

All in all, walking across the Alsea River has definitely been my favorite OCT detours so far! The views were far better than my late afternoon walk across the foggy Yaquina Bay Bridge yesterday. And it took me through the small town of Waldport, where I stopped at convenience store to buy a single can of local craft beer to enjoy with dinner!

BEACHSIDE

South of Waldport and the Alsea River, I made my way back down to the beach at Yaquina John Point. The rest of the day would be on the sand, and I was pretty sure today was the most beach walking I’ve done on the entire OCT thus far. Maybe I was past the bulk of the big roadwalks!

I was probably meant to get back on the beach about a half-mile further south of town, but I spotted an area just below the highway where the water seemed shallow enough to lead me back to main beach. So I scrambled down a retaining wall and went barefoot in the waves for the next few hundred yards

I was watching my step extremely closely, and that’s when something bright green caught my eye at the water’s edge. A shiny green rock was sitting right next to where my left foot stepped on the sand, so I bent over to pick it up.

I’m no rockhound, but think it might be an agate. I plucked it up off the sand, rolled it through my fingers a few times, then tucked it into my hip pouch to examine a bit closer at camp. Maybe it would bring me good fortune on the rest of my thru-hike. Like the ocean’s version of a four-leaf clover!

I only had another three miles to go before I got to Beachside State Park. If I stopped there, today would be another shorter day, with just 18.3 miles of hiking.

Ending my days at the state parks seemed to be a good forcing mechanism to make sure I didn’t overdo the mileage (like I had on the first 140 miles of this OCT). When I returned to the coast yesterday, I’d vowed to keep my days more moderate and let my feet build back up. 

I left the sand at the beach access marker, but instead of taking me to the park’s entrance, I found myself in the middle of the campground amid a bunch of RVs and larger tents. I had to go search for the hiker-biker camp and made several wrong turns before finding the grassy area near the front of the park where I was meant to camp.

The hiker-biker camp was tucked in next to the beach’s day-use parking area at the park’s entrance, and it wasn’t nearly as luxurious as the accommodations at South Beach State Park. There were no fancy lockers with USB chargers inside them. The campsites were just flat spots in the grass. And it was located right beside to a bathroom that had a constant flood of people using it before they went back to their cars.

The park’s entrance didn’t even have a ranger manning a guard booth. There was just a self-pay box with envelopes for the hikers and bikers to fill out and deposit their cash in.

On the plus side though, the campsite wasn’t overrun with car campers pretending to be hikers while carting a bunch of ice chests and food in to attract the wildlife. It had picnic tables and a nearby bathroom. What more did I really need?

As I was filling out my registration envelope, two cyclists rolled up and asked me to point them in the direction of the hiker-biker camp. I thrust my thumb over my shoulder toward the grassy area and said, “That’s it!”

The two of them looked at each other and shrugged before rolling their bikes over to one of the picnic tables and setting up for the night.

After the three of us settled in, we introduced ourselves properly. The two cyclists lived in Portland and were riding down the coast for a few days to escape the heat. They’d packed two beers out of town in their bike panniers, just like I’d done in my backpack, so the three of us lounged around and talked about the day.

The longer we chatted, the more we realized we had in common. These two cyclists turned out to be really awesome people. It’s only been a few days, but I think I’m really digging these hiker-biker camps. I may not be meeting any fellow OCT hikers there, but I sure was meeting a lot of very cool cyclists with some great stories! 

As the sun began to drop in the sky, I made my way out to the sand to watch the show on Wakonda Beach. It was a beautiful sunset this evening and made me grateful that I’d picked this trail for my summer thru-hike!


Highlights

  • The beach had some outstanding displays to enjoy today – from the mossy rocks on Ona Beach, to the waves crashing near Seal Rock, to the vibrant orange sunset this evening. Just gorgeous!
  • Watching the seals down in the river and sand bar while I walked across the Ales River. None of the cars driving over the bridge at 40 mph had any clue what a sight they were missing!
  • Meeting such super cool people at the hiker-biker campgrounds. I’m so glad I’ve decided utilize these campgrounds as my stopping points during this leg of the OCT. The companionship has been awesome.

Challenges

  • A thick fog that obscured the views for several hours this morning. I felt like I was walking in the clouds and it was a bit disorienting nothing have anything to look at. No trail. No ocean. No scenery.
  • Discovering how few hikers I’ve seen out on this trail. I haven’t seen any hikers since my first day on the OCT. I know they must be out here, because people keep telling me they are. Thank goodness for the cyclists who keep showing up to provide me with some much needed conversation.
  • My uphill detour around Seal Rocks seemed to be completely unnecessary. I’m beginning to think I need to pay less attention to where the ‘official’ maps direct me to go and make some of my own detours instead.