It will be a day filled with friendly folks. Across the street at Seadog Bakery, I ask the proprietor if I might make a picture of him. He asks if I want him to put on the Chicken Hat of Shame. Mais oui, funny monsieur.
Armed with fresh grain bread, a croissant for me, and something sweet for Art, we drive just a short piece up the road when I see this sign and holler to Art: turn right...now!
The Newport Farmers Market has everything else we need, starting with a pound of grass-fed ground beef for future burgers.
Walking on, I run into a couple of newlyweds enjoying a feast of market morning pizza.
I choose an organic produce stand and start looking--tomatoes. We're just out of the rooftop stash we brought along and summer's not over here just yet.
Don't these look mouth-watering? They'll travel well.
And then I see the sign: Gathering Together Farm. My favorite seeds, purchased via the internet the last two planting seasons, come from this farm, whose stand we're now shopping. Sweet synchronicity. In fact, several of the greens and cress varieties growing in our travel SIP are from this very place.
I'm loaded down with gorgeous produce and Art, just back from standing in line for still-warm herb foccacia (uh, honey, do we really need more bread?, she asked, ripping an edge off to taste) records my delight.
If we can ever start driving instead of sampling all our goodies, we'll be heading north to the tip of Oregon. Along the way, the ocean at our left keeps us company.
Lunch today: the end of our Boise beets and carrots. Plus cured olives on the fresh focaccia.
Our route takes us inland too, where autumn's revealing herself.
And to dairy country around Tillamook, home of Tillamook Cheese.
Bay City sits on a large ocean bay. We checked out a campground here, but it was marginal.
Back on the coast (our route today in pink), we get jammed up in Cannon Beach, awash in Saturday tourists. Gorgeous beach and town but major traffic. So sorry not to spend more time here, beloved of KK and Marc B, but we forgot what day it was and it's definitely too busy for us.
We point toward Ft Stevens State Park, all the way up, last stop in Oregon.
After checking in at a ranger station that feels more like a bank (complete with velvet rope to organize the line), it's time for smoked tuna from the harbor place in Charleston + cocktails.
Art soaks up some D before the sun drops behind the trees.
Those farmers market tomatoes make a nice salad with our fresh greens.
This is a giant of a park, with 300+ campsites in our loop alone. And again, it's Saturday, so we have lots (lots) of company, with a focus on yippy dogs and children (not yippy, but happily noisy).
Art and I call these "Saturday Campgrounds" and we have a string of them in our past, all crowded with campers. A further challenge: what looked like a park on the ocean is so huge the water is a full mile away.
A park worker on a golf cart sells wood. She knows a buyer when she sees one and Art doesn't have to go far to collect it.
We tuck into bowls of freshly steamed cauliflower and collards with romano cheese. A relatively big driving day for us, and after a nice fire, to our books and bed--a surprisingly quiet night given the density of campers.
This is our last night in Oregon. Here's the big view--spiral and all--of our 7 nights in this glorious state (once I got over the hot dry eastern region).