Gold Beach, Oregon

2020 is one strange year, and sitting on a balcony overlooking the Rogue River estuary, in Gold Beach, Oregon, is not exactly where I expected to be spending my summer vacation, if you had asked me in January. To be clear, I am not complaining. The river is wide and placid, in contrast to the often implacable Pacific, only about a quarter of a mile away, the sun glinting off the aquamarine waters, a warm breeze in the air, fishing boats gliding and bobbing, pure calm, interrupted by the occasional roar of a jet boat revving its engines, to impress its passengers before passing under the iconic Isaac Lee Patterson Bridge and proceeding up river, to Agness, in the Rogue River-Siskiyou National Forest. 

On the balcony, I read, steeped in Volume 3 (of 4) of the master biography of LBJ (Caro). I studied the river. I contemplated the successes (and failures) of the people in the fishing boats, with a plump Chinook salmon as the ultimate prize. Due to spotty Internet, thanks to the condo owner not investing in WiFI (and graciously directing us to the WIFI at a neighboring resort), I spent very little time on my phone. My laptop was 400 miles away, resting comfortably in my home office. 

By my estimation, I am at the mid-point of my professional life, mile 13.1, equidistant from college and retirement.  The past is usually not a great indicator of the future, so while I can imagine the general contours of the second half, I can only fathom the specific dimensions. To be sure, the grand goals are mostly gone, and hard pragmatism (with the exception of this blog) and efficiency rule the day. Perhaps this is just middle age.  Regardless, the finish line is beginning to look a lot more appealing. Travel, volunteering, philanthropy, and teaching are, day-by-day, gaining a new and brighter sheen. 

Some have asked me, why Gold Beach?  Does one really have to drive 400 miles for a change of scenery?  Probably not, but my criteria were somewhat unusual (although perhaps not so much during a pandemic year): exceptionally low COVID rates; wide, empty beaches; plenty of hiking trails and dog-friendly options; affordable accommodations; and a more laid-back vibe.  I had visited Sun River, in Central Oregon, a few years back, but its density (relatively speaking) made it considerably less attractive this year.  Hence, Gold Beach. 

We enjoyed a number of hikes, including the Cape Sebastian Trail and an out-and-back from Cape Ferrelo to Lone Ranch Beach. Visits to Pistol River Beach, Meyers Beach, Coquille Lighthouse, and a blueberry farm just south of Bandon comprised additional highlights of the trip. 

As a runner (of sorts), an additional highlight was the vast, empty beach less than half a mile from our condo.  Easily a third of a mile wide at high tide, and with not more than another soul in sight at any given time, this beach was an escape from an escape, a wild, raw expanse of sand and water, stretching endlessly to the north.  On my first run, a Wednesday, it was overcast.  On my second run, a Friday, the sky was cloudless, the breeze warm, a glorious morning if there ever was one.  I ran 2 miles out, before, reluctantly, deciding to turn back, knowing that I needed to finish packing, before embarking on the long journey home. 

Comments welcomed.