The Travels of a Journalist—23 -A NOSTALGIC TOUR OF THE OREGON COAST
Posted on April 23rd, 2010

By Shelton A. Gunaratne ƒÆ’-¡ƒ”š‚© 2010

Friday (5 Aug 1983) morning, weƒÆ’‚¢ƒ¢-¡‚¬ƒ¢¢”š¬‚Junius, Yoke-Sim and IƒÆ’‚¢ƒ¢-¡‚¬ƒ¢¢”š¬‚left the Mill Creek campground of Del Norte Coast Redwood State Park for our Oregon excursion. We headed nine miles (14 km) northwest to Crescent City (pop. 7,300), the last California city before crossing the border to Oregon.

On the way, we stopped at the Rellim Demonstration Forest, where we walked along a nature trail to learn about plantsƒÆ’‚¢ƒ¢-¡‚¬ƒ¢¢”š¬‚an activity that Junius appeared to enjoy.ƒÆ’-¡ƒ”š‚  We learnt that Lost Monarch, the largest known Coastal redwood by volume, thrives in ƒÆ’‚¢ƒ¢-¡‚¬ƒ…-The Grove of the GiantsƒÆ’‚¢ƒ¢-¡‚¬ƒ”š‚ in the nearby Jedediah Smith Redwoods State Park. But no one in our company wanted to say hello to the Lost Giant perhaps because we thought we had met bigger giants at the Kings Canyon/Sequoia National Park.

Crescent City, founded by gold-seekers in 1851, got its name from the horn-shaped bay. Point St George, the headland immediately north of the harbor, protects the town from the cold … More >north winds. The paddle steamer “Brother Jonathan” sank off this coast in 1885 causing the death of 265 people. We visited the Brother Jonathan Cemetery (Ninth Street, Pebble Beach), their burial place. A further disaster, a tidal wave, destroyed a large part of the town in 1964.

Before leaving Crescent City, we went to the Point St George area and drove south to get a good view of the old lighthouse at Battery Point established in 1856. The lighthouse is a 45-ft white cylindrical brick tower built on a square granite house.

Crossing to Oregon Coast

Only the Buddhist concept of bhava (re-becoming) could metaphorically convey a sense of my emotions and gratification as we passed Khoonkhwuttunne on the California border to Oregon, which was my home for more than one year from 1967 to 1968. Ensconced in the Willamette Valley, I sharpened my journalism skills at the Eugene Register-Guard and studied journalism to get my masterƒÆ’‚¢ƒ¢-¡‚¬ƒ¢-¾‚¢s degree from the University of Oregon.

I felt that my daughter Carmel, then a fetus (to be born on 31 Jan. 1984), was also a participant in this nostalgic excursion to Oregon. The trip offered me the opportunity to introduce my family to ƒÆ’‚¢ƒ¢-¡‚¬ƒ…-my-home-away-from-homeƒÆ’‚¢ƒ¢-¡‚¬ƒ”š‚ although I had not made arrangements for meetings with old friends and acquaintances. Time was in short supply. Our schedule did not contain even an overnight stay in Eugene, where I lived both as an intern and a graduate student.

Oregon has a current population of 3.8 million although it ranks ninth in the United States in terms of land area (98,466 sq miles or 255,026 sq km). Its population in the late ƒÆ’‚¢ƒ¢-¡‚¬ƒ”¹…”60s was about 2 million, which rose to 2.6 million in 1980. Thus, although Oregon increased its population by 90 percent over the last 40 years, it remains a small state in terms of the total U.S. population of 308 million.

But, despite its population size, a mere 1.2 percent of the U.S. population, Oregon has played a prominent role in federal governance because the U.S. Senate representation allocates two seats per state irrespective of population size. Thus, I can still remember how Sen. Wayne Morse from Oregon (in office from 1945 to 1969) became a national icon among those who protested against the Vietnam War in the ƒÆ’‚¢ƒ¢-¡‚¬ƒ”¹…”60s. Morse set a record for performing the longest one-person filibuster in the history of the Senate.

I owed plenty of gratitude to Oregonians who subsidized my graduate education at the University of Oregon. I retuned the favor by giving an annual donation to UO during my professorial career.ƒÆ’-¡ƒ”š‚ 

These characteristics of Oregon and much more went through my mind during this brief excursion, which I also turned into an academic excursus to attend the annual convention of the Association for Education in Journalism and Mass Communication at the Oregon State University in Corvallis, 7-9 Aug. 1983. Thus, as usual, I combined business with pleasure (camping and recreation).

On the Oregon Coast

This was my first experience of travelling to Oregon through its southwestern coastal belt route on US101. I took a photo of the border crossing and wrote in my diary, ƒÆ’‚¢ƒ¢-¡‚¬ƒ…-Oregon always seems to be friendlier.ƒÆ’‚¢ƒ¢-¡‚¬ƒ”š‚

The first Oregon coastal town to greet us was Brookings (pop. 6,500), where we stopped at the (U.S. Forest Service) Chetco Ranger Station for Siskiyou National Forest (re-named Rogue River-Siskiyou NF in 2004). We learned that the 55.5-mile long Chetco Wild and Scenic River drops from 3,700 ft to sea level before it empties into the Pacific Ocean between Brookings and Harbor.

From Brookings, we proceeded northwest to Harris Beach State Park to eat our lunch while looking at Goat Island, a sanctuary for migratory birds.

Driving further north, just south of the town of Gold Beach (pop. 1,900), we stopped at Cape Sebastian State Park, a precipitous headland rising 700 ft above tide. It provided great scenic vistas. The sheer beauty of the spot provoked me to walk all the way down to the beach and climb up again along the winding trail. It was my adventure of the day that took more than one hour. I ate berries on the way. So I have good memories of Gold Beach.

North of Port Orford (pop. 1,200), we visited Cape Blanco to observe fossilized shells for which it is well known. We saw the lighthouse, and we walked to the beach from the state park. We also stopped at the Hughes House built in 1898.

On arrival in Bandon (pop. 3,235) about 7 p.m., we bought gasolineƒÆ’‚¢ƒ¢-¡‚¬ƒ¢¢”š¬‚much cheaper than in CaliforniaƒÆ’‚¢ƒ¢-¡‚¬ƒ¢¢”š¬‚to rejuvenate our vehicle. We also bought a bottle of Cold Duck wine to drink with our dinner. Then, we checked in at Bullards Beach State Park, where we set up our tent to spend the night. Yoke-Sim, now become accustomed to preparing meals that befit nomadic living, prepared a tasty dinner that went well with the Cold Duck.

Although we had to pay $9 (including a non-resident surcharge of $2) for our campsite, the facilities were much better than in the California state parks. Although we traveled only 118 miles (190 km) during the whole day, our emphasis was on leisurely enjoyment, not on the distance covered.

On Saturday (6 Aug.) morning, we went to see the Coquille River Lighthouse, the so-called ƒÆ’‚¢ƒ¢-¡‚¬ƒ…-NavigatorƒÆ’‚¢ƒ¢-¡‚¬ƒ¢-¾‚¢s Nightmare,ƒÆ’‚¢ƒ¢-¡‚¬ƒ”š‚ at the southern end of the spit at Bullards Beach. Then, driving 27 miles (44 km) further north, off US 101 via West Beaver Road and Seven Devils Road, we reached Cape Arrago State Park, the southernmost of three contiguous state parksƒÆ’‚¢ƒ¢-¡‚¬ƒ¢¢”š¬‚with Sunset Bay in the north and Shore Acres in the middleƒÆ’‚¢ƒ¢-¡‚¬ƒ¢¢”š¬‚located in a small beautiful coastal peninsula. Cape Arrago is the recognized domain of Oregon sea lions.ƒÆ’-¡ƒ”š‚  The beautiful botanic gardens in Shore Acres adds to the pleasure of those who visit the cape to watch the wily sea lions dance and prance in their natural habitat probably shouting ƒÆ’‚¢ƒ¢-¡‚¬ƒ…-obscenitiesƒÆ’‚¢ƒ¢-¡‚¬ƒ”š‚ at the gullible humans ashore. [I was on the self-same spot 16 years ago when a local woman, Mary Johnston, gave me a tour of the Oregon Coast. See further below.]

We left the sea lions alone to proceed 25 miles (40 km) further northeast via Charleston to rejoin US 101. Immediately thereafter, we stopped at North Bend (pop. 9,600), where we visited the Coos-Curry Historical Museum in Simpson Park. Then, heading south to Coos Bay (pop. 16,300), we joined the industrial tour of the House of MyrtlewoodƒÆ’‚¢ƒ¢-¡‚¬ƒ¢¢”š¬‚a demonstration of the intricate processes involved in converting myrtle logs into a variety of sophisticated byproducts.ƒÆ’-¡ƒ”š‚ ƒÆ’-¡ƒ”š‚ 

The dayƒÆ’‚¢ƒ¢-¡‚¬ƒ¢-¾‚¢s adventure was our 50-mile (80 km) roundtrip detour to Golden and Silver Falls State Park in the Coast Range. We reached the park heading northeast on Coos River Road/Highway. Hiking trails wind through scenic canyons to each of the waterfalls, which plunge over sheer rock cliffs to moss-covered boulders 100 ft below [see photo]. We ate our lunch in the picnic area along the banks of the Glen and Silver creeks shaded by large alder, maple and Oregon myrtle trees. Junius and Yoke-Sim confessed their thorough joy of hiking to the two waterfalls.

Back in Coos Bay, we headed for Florence (pop. 8,300), 50 miles to the north on US 101. I reminisced nostalgically about this stretch of the highway whereon I had been before some 16 years agoƒÆ’‚¢ƒ¢-¡‚¬ƒ¢¢”š¬‚1-3 April 1967ƒÆ’‚¢ƒ¢-¡‚¬ƒ¢¢”š¬‚when I was the guest of a Florence family, Stuart and Mary Johnston. The Johnstons were highly impressed with my views published in the Eugene Register-Guard that they invited me to visit with them for an in-depth conversation. Stuart, a dentist, was the mayor of Florence at the time.ƒÆ’-¡ƒ”š‚ ƒÆ’-¡ƒ”š‚ 

On that occasion, Mary Johnston took me to Coos Bay, introduced me to librarian Ruth Watson, bought me lunch at Pony Village, and took me to Shore Acres, Sunset Bay and Cape ArragoƒÆ’‚¢ƒ¢-¡‚¬ƒ¢¢”š¬‚the identical spots that I introduced to Junius and Yoke-Sim on this trip.

On the way, we also stopped at Umpqua Lighthouse State Park, south of Reedsport (pop. 4,400), to see the 20-ft sand dunes and visit the Coastal Visitor Center.

However, I did not have the contact information on the Johnstons to arrange for a reunion. Thank you and au revoir Johnstons for giving me the Coos Bay experience.

Our destination for the day was Corvallis (pop. 54,880), 97 miles from Florence. We continued north on US 101, turned east on SR 34 at Waldport to cut through Siuslaw National Forest, and then headed northeast to reach Corvallis at 8.30 p.m.

We checked in for three nights at Bloss Hall on Oregon State University campus so I could focus on the business aspect of this trip, viz., attending the three-day AEJMC Convention, where I expected to see some of my erstwhile professors and graduate colleagues from Oregon and Minnesota. Because we missed the convention buffet, we had to eat dinner in the town. We also found out that our vehicle had run out of gas.

Corvallis lies in the Willamette Valley roughly midway between Salem (pop. 54,000), the state capital; and Eugene (pop. 154,620), the stateƒÆ’‚¢ƒ¢-¡‚¬ƒ¢-¾‚¢s second largest city. More than 42 percent of OregonƒÆ’‚¢ƒ¢-¡‚¬ƒ¢-¾‚¢s population lives in the Portland metropolitan area.

I reminisced about the several trips I made to Corvallis and Salem with Lloyd Paseman, who covered the education beat for the Register-Guard in 1967.

The convention offered me the opportunity to introduce my wife and son to several of my old buddies and professors during the Minnesota and Oregon alumni receptions; the historical tour of Corvallis conducted by historian Kenneth Mumford; and at the salmon barbecue dinner for delegates at Avery Park. I was privileged to dine with my Minnesota mentor professor emeritus [the late] Raymond B. Nixon and his wife at the salmon barbecue.

On Last Day in Oregon

Wednesday (10 Aug.) morning, we left Corvallis for Ashland (pop. 21,630), the home of the renowned Oregon Shakespeare Festival, 223 miles (360 km) south on Interstate 5 at the California border. We had bought tickets to see the Shakespearean play ƒÆ’‚¢ƒ¢-¡‚¬ƒ…-Much Ado About NothingƒÆ’‚¢ƒ¢-¡‚¬ƒ”š‚ at 8.30 p.m.

Thus, when we arrived in Eugene at 9.45 a.m., I had to be very selective about people, places and memories that I wanted my wife and son to meet, see and remember. We planned to leave Eugene by 5 p.m.

My first priority was to show them the School of Journalism (the Eric W. Allen Hall), where I studied for my masterƒÆ’‚¢ƒ¢-¡‚¬ƒ¢-¾‚¢s degree in journalism [see photo]. Two faculty members from my eraƒÆ’‚¢ƒ¢-¡‚¬ƒ¢¢”š¬‚professors [the late] Roy P. Nelson and A. W. CrawfordƒÆ’‚¢ƒ¢-¡‚¬ƒ¢¢”š¬‚chatted with us.

My second priority was to show my family the Register-Guard office, where I did my WPI internship, in downtown Eugene. Journalist Lloyd Paseman welcomed us and explained the changes that have occurred since my internship. I also met senior journalists Ed Kenyon and Dean Rea, who was also a teacher of mine at Allen Hall.

Although I intended to give my family a good orientation to the campus, this was not possible because of the changes over the preceding 15 years. Even with the help of a map, I was finding it difficult to find my way.

We ate lunch at the Erb Memorial Union, which had been expanded beautifully to include a skyway lounge. I did not forget to show them the library, where I spent much of my time. I also took them to the Lane County Pioneer Museum and the Chamber of Commerce in the city.

We left Eugene as scheduled, ate dinner at Roseburg, and arrived in Ashland just in time for the play. ƒÆ’‚¢ƒ¢-¡‚¬ƒ…-Much Ado About NothingƒÆ’‚¢ƒ¢-¡‚¬ƒ”š‚ went on until 11.15 p.m., when we went to camp overnight at Glenyan KOA on SR 66. Our campsite was close to Neil Creek.

Thursday (11 Aug.) morning, we returned to Ashland city to have a closer look at the theaters of the Oregon Shakespeare Festival, which began in 1935. Since then, it has staged Shakespeare’s complete canon three times, completing the first cycle in 1958 with a production of Troilus and Cressida and completing the second and third cycles through the works in 1978 and 1997.

We left Ashland, Ore., for Stockton, Calif., 341 miles (549 km) to the south on Interstate 5, just before noon. We drove through the northern half of the Central Valley, stopping at Shasta Lake for lunch. We reached Stockton at 6.15 p.m. and stayed overnight at Jan MullenƒÆ’‚¢ƒ¢-¡‚¬ƒ¢-¾‚¢s home.

The next morning (Friday, 12 Aug.), we entered Yosemite National Park.

ƒÆ’-¡ƒ”š‚ (The author is professor of mass communications emeritus, Minnesota State University Moorhead. He wishes to solicit feedback from more readers on both the positive and the negative aspects of the series.)

ƒÆ’-¡ƒ”š‚ 

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Figure 1:ƒÆ’-¡ƒ”š‚  Route of the Oregon excursion

Picture 1:ƒÆ’-¡ƒ”š‚  Yoke-Sim watches the beauty of Silver Falls at the Golden and Silver Falls State Park, 25 miles northeast of Coos Bay on the Oregon Coast (6 Aug. 1983).

ƒÆ’-¡ƒ”š‚ Picture 2: The writer and his son at the University of Oregon on 10 Aug. 1983. Behind them is Eric W. Allen Hall, the location of the School of Journalism & Communication, where the writer was a graduate student in 1967-68.

4 Responses to “The Travels of a Journalist—23 -A NOSTALGIC TOUR OF THE OREGON COAST”

  1. Sita Perera Says:

    Oh Shelton, what beautiful stuff. I can visualise the locations that you are descriibing. Shelton, you are the best story teller of modern Sri Lanka

  2. Sita Perera Says:

    I hope someone will come up to make a teledrama of these melancholy journeys of the Gunaratne Family right around the world – Jackson Anthony comes into my mind. If Shelton sends the transcripts to BBC, who knows they might?

  3. gunarat Says:

    I appreciate your frank assessment of my Oregon travelogue, Sita P… I wrote the next article in the series in response to one of your queries–a product of writer-reader interaction.

    Not all the journeys are melancholy. I am not familiar with Jackson Anthony. As a reader, you have the freedom to contact BBC and make the suggestion. But I wouldn’t be waiting with abated breath to hear from BBC.

  4. Sita Perera Says:

    I may ask the BBC

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