Day 42 – Cape Arago, and a reluctant goodbye to the Oregon coast
I woke up to a thick fog hanging over the seashore, so I headed back toward the nearby port town of Charleston, where I suspected I’d find some interesting scenes of fog over the docks as fishermen got ready for their day. My instinct was rewarded as a soupy sunshine started to break through the fog, and I’m sure that made the fishermen happier too — as much as photographers may love the moody presence of the fog, the fishermen hate it. As the sky continued to clear, I headed back to the botanical garden at Shore Acres State Park, which is beautiful. I can’t say I’ve ever had the experience of photographing in a botanical garden when I can hear the barking of sea lions in the near distance. I know I didn’t see as much of the surrounding coastal scenery as I would like to, but I’ll be back!
I ate lunch while looking out over the beautiful rocky beach landscape of Bandon, and then reluctantly, I started driving away from the coast on Route 42, heading toward Crater Lake. It was hard to say goodbye to the Oregon coast. There is so much there, not just for the photographer, but for everyone. Dramatic Pacific ocean views, rocky coastal areas, sandy beaches, lighthouses, tide pools, beachcombing, weathered and authentic (i.e., not touristy) fishing towns, good restaurants… there’s plenty to love.
But at the same time, I’m excited to visit Crater Lake too. I arrived at my first viewpoint at the edge of Crater Lake as the sun sank low enough to throw shadows of Wizard Island on the cliffs on the far side of the lake. I think my jaw actually dropped. This is not just any lake. It’s incredibly peaceful and striking.
I made my way to the Crater Lake Lodge, hoping to find a room for the next two nights because their campgrounds were closed, but this was the one time on this trip I came up completely unprepared. Apparently Crater Lake Lodge is booked months in advance, everything at Mazama Village (the only other lodging in the park) was closed, and there are very few towns less than an hour’s drive away.
The clerk at the lodge kindly called a hotel in the closest town, Fort Klamath, and I secured a room for the night at the Aspen Inn. I had already driven a long way that day, and another 45 minutes on the road was not happy news, but I made my way down the highway to the teeny tiny town of Fort Klamath. The Aspen Inn is a classic old-school motel, and I love places like that. What made it even better is that both of the people I met who work there, Sue and Heidi, are as nice and welcoming as can be. And in a Smalltimore moment, I found out that there was another guest at the hotel from the Baltimore area. Not only was she from Baltimore, she lived in Cockeysville, where I grew up. It really is a small, small world.
Boatyard
Classic Cars
Junkyard
Letters & Numbers
Miscellaneous
Nature Up Close
Places
Secret Life of Plants