Huckleberry Hound....

The beach at Harris Beach State Park...


My fingers are all stained from picking Huckleberries. The nice lady in the campsite next to mine was picking them earlier, and I politely asked what she was picking. She didn’t stop talking for the next 15 minutes! Just a constant stream of consciousness kind of talking. I nodded at all the pauses and after she left, picked a half a bag and gave it to her.

It’s so peaceful here. I’m at Bullard’s beach campground, just up the coast from Harris Beach about... oh... 50 miles. The slow pace is nice right now. I was lying on my little bed with all the doors open (the sun is hot, but the breeze is cool) just watching the trees and green and listening to the sounds of surf and silence. Just little sounds... No lawn mowers or leaf blowers, no traffic, no screaming kids, .... nothing...

I had such fun coming up the coast! I stopped at the famous little fruit stand that started in 1971 and is now a big building with gifts and jams and jellies and wine. I’ve loved watching it grow over the years.

Brookings, the town nearest the Harris Beach campground is in the ‘banana belt’ of the Oregon coast. It’s milder than most of the rest of the coast. The town, however, is somehow unpleasant, as if a price has been paid for the ‘better weather’, so I drove to Gold Beach, where I knew there was a good breakfast place. As I was pulling out of a driveway, I saw two men RUNNING like hell. It was such a strange sight that I stopped and watched, wondering what would make them do that. Then the siren went off and I realized that they were part of the fire department. Men came from all over, and not one of them walked. They were on the road lickety split... must be nice to know they care that much.

I stopped in Port Orford, which is not my kind of Oregon.... the bottom half of the coast is too windy much of the time. I have a friend in Bandon, the town nearest this campground, and the house is right on the coast. The wind never quits, and the result is a lack of tall vegetation. Here at the campground, it’s much nicer, but there are fewer big trees and more Huckleberry bushes.

In Port Orford I stopped at the Post Office... me and half the town. It was a kick watching everyone greet each other and stop and talk. I love small towns. There was a woman driving the car below. She was SO proud of it. I didn’t get a picture of it at the post office, but saw her again at the gas station. She laughed when I said I had to have a picture. I told her it would be on the internet and she was thrilled! well.... she thought it was cool, at least.





There was this building... it fascinated me. I know nothing about it, but it looks like an old jail or something...




As I drove through the old town part of Bandon, I found a little coffee shop with wifi. I’m going to go there tomorrow and post with the rest of the coffee drinkers... Here is a shot of the old town in Bandon. It’s really kept a sort of kitschy charm, with galleries and gifty shops and such..





and, on a nice day, people eating at the crab shack...





Oooh... and it’s DARK at night! The KOA campgrounds are always brightly lit.. that’s why I had to make double thick curtains... When I made my toothbrush run tonight, it was DARK! Just some dim campfires left... those old people go to bed early....