Blacklock Point

Of the six hikers in our little group, only I knew the secret route to a hidden epic viewpoint overlooking the Oregon coast north of Blacklock Point. Naturally, it was incumbent upon me to lead us all on a scrubby and cliff-hugging journey to Mother Nature's observation deck. As we worked our way through cruel growths of scratchy brush, somebody asked "Are you sure you know where you are going?" and my cruel heart was immediately gladdened. Nice to know I still have the touch, even on a hike that I was not formally in charge of.

The Oregon coast calls, and I must go

I've been to Blacklock Point like a million times or so and have had plenty of miles in which to experience Blacklock's many moods, ranging from icy windstorms to stifling heatwaves. Today's offering was sunny and mild, with just a hint of windy bluster (just like me!). Given the cool and wet conditions so prevalent on the coast on most any given day, we gratefully accepted the bright and breezy bounty from the weather gods.

The difference between evergreen and perennial, illustrated

Things got off to a little bit of an awkward start when I tried to find the path running behind the runways of nearby Cape Blanco.  A faint track overgrown by thorny gorse discouraged most of us from taking the loop route to Floras Lake and after a brief discussion (mutiny, really) it was decided by majority vote that 1) the hike would be an out-and-back and 2) nobody should follow me down any further overgrown paths that might otherwise arise during the hiking of this hike.

There were whole entire worlds inside the puddles

The trail from the airport to the Oregon Coast is an old road and as is an old road's wont, potholes had formed on the dirt road. And as are potholes' wont, over time they had grown larger and then had filled up with water during recent rainy weather, testing hikers' mettle and determination both. And as are hikers' wont, an unofficial system of footpaths were illegally braided through the brush for the express purpose of walking dry-footed around the bodies of water. While I'm not particularly averse to hiking with wet feet, some of those puddles were large enough to host a yachting regatta, so we used the detours like everybody else.

Light beams slice through the forest

The Oregon Coast Trail basically contours along and atop the coastal cliffs keeping the ocean from overrunning the rest of Oregon. Apart from occasional bushwhacked-to overlooks, most of the hiking was through dense coastal forest, the trees twisted into phantasmagorical shapes by the near-constant sea breeze. It was both dark and light in those woods, with sunbeams slicing through the deep shade like giant light-swords wielded by angry samurais. The air was slightly misted which provided some heft to the sunbeams and I soon lagged behind, completely engrossed with the light show.

The footing was treacherous on this bridge

After a walk of several miles, made slightly longer by side trips to several coastal overlooks, the trail dropped down to a small creek. There usually is a small wooden footbridge spanning the creek but given the proclivity of winter rains, the span is often transported downstream in one piece or sometimes in many pieces. On this day, the rustic bridge was found intact but downstream. A test step revealed that the small span was somewhat slippery so I opted to just get across the creek with one long-legged stride.

Hiking on a beautiful day

We ate lunch on the beach, sitting on driftwood logs while debating whether to continue walking on the beach all the way to Floras Lake. The tide was receding but the sea was still an angry seething cauldron of turbulent water and there was not a lot of beach between watery maw and unyielding cliffs. Several years ago, a hiker and his young child had tragically lost their lives there so our consideration was indeed somber and serious. It was eventually decided to turn around and catch Blacklock Point on the return leg.

Life on the edge

So, it was back the way we had come, through the same old dark forest accentuated by the same old bright sunbeams. Halfway back to Blacklock Point, I led my gullible and trusting comrades on the previously mentioned bushwhack venture to the epic viewpoint. From atop an ochre colored bluff, cliffy ramparts marched in stately procession for many miles north before fading into the misty distance. Waves continually broke at the edge of the vast blue ocean and nearby rocky Battleship Bow imposed its bulk and will upon the beach below. As a bonus, a small waterfall trickled over the cliff's edge and splashed onto the beach below. The awesome scenery was well worth the many aspersions cast in my direction to go along with the scratches.

See Blacklock Point?
Me, neither!

At Blacklock Point, we only had a few minutes to enjoy the view of the craggy point and its chain of rocky islands. While we were there, a fog bank rolled in from the ocean and within minutes, Blacklock Point was just a ghostly outline in the mist. I'll have to add thick fog to the catalog of weather conditions I've experienced at Blacklock Point. From the point, it was a perfunctory hike back to the trailhead, bypassing the familiar potholes and puddles. Hearts were gladdened by today's endeavor and also by a stop in Bandon for some restorative ice cream.

The day completes the transition from blue to gray

For more photos of this hike, please visit the Flickr album.

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Blacklock Point

With a missionary's zeal, I preach the Gospel of Hiking and to indoctrinate a would-be lifelong devotee, it usually takes one good hike explicitly selected by yours truly for that purpose. However, some converts are more challenging than others. Case in point being long-time friend Anne, who submitted a voluminous pre-hike list of things that could not occur on this outing. Apparently she reads my blog so the list had things like "...no poison oak, no ticks, no wading of rivers...etc." It also had more esoteric items like "...no puns, no spontaneous songs, no armpit farts..." Sheesh, I wasn't sure I had any such hike (or behaviors) in my repertoire!

Archway on the beach

Also enumerated on that list were some weather-related edicts like no thunder, lightning, hail, wind, rain, or any combination thereof. Fortunately, a perfect day awaited the three of us (Anne's husband David came along, too) at the Oregon coast. The forecast had called for a cold, windy, and sometime rainy day but the reality was that the sky was cloudlessly blue, the temperature mild, and the breezes minimal. All signs pointed to a great hike for distrusting newbies and one erstwhile jaded veteran.

The Oregon Coast Trail tunnels through a dark forest

The long version of the Blacklock Point hike is a loop route and we opted to do the less scenic portion of the hike first. That meant starting out by walking behind an airport runway while keeping an eye on the sky for any approaching planes (running from airplanes was on Anne's list, too). After that propeller-free travail, the next couple of miles were a gradual descent on a jeep road through what admittedly were beautiful woods, even if there were no big-ticket items to see.

This bud's for you!

It was late spring and accordingly, the rhododendrons were still putting on a show. The large pink flowers festooned branches well above our heads and my two charges soon found out I brake for flowers. Close to the ground, the trail was flanked by blooming trapper's tea bushes and one patch of beargrass, somewhat out of place at the coast, proffered their distinctive white flowery plumes beneath the rhodies for our perusal. 

Our view of Floras Lake

Well, after a nice little three mile stroll through the trees and wildflowers we popped and plopped out onto a bare open area overlooking Floras Lake. This little lake is often busy with gossamer-winged kite surfers but not today, probably due to the lack of wind. David has a friend who lives at Floras Lake and he tried to spot the home from our vantage point. Whether looking for homes or kite surfers, we all agreed this was the first of many grand views on the day.

Fern tentacles

We backtracked a little bit on the Oregon Coast Trail which tunneled through a forest of dense trees twisted into all sorts of phantasmagorical shapes by near-constant sea breezes. The mix of sun and shade dappled the trail and delighted us hikers striding purposefully on the path. Rhododendrons were not as much of a thing in this part of the forest but the trail was graced nonetheless by ample quantities of wild irises ranging from purple to pale lavender in color.

It's a Richard Hike!

So far, I had managed to keep within the bounds of Anne's oppressive pre-hike manifesto, but a foot-deep creek presented the first test of our friendship. I simply splashed through, David walked across on some small branches, and Anne, surrendering to the inevitable, took off her shoes and waded barefoot, the mud presumably oozing between her toes. Expecting to immediately get unfriended, I was pleasantly surprised when she said the cool water felt good. 

Life on the edge

There is a viewpoint atop the coastal cliffs that, in my opinion, presents the Best View Ever. In years past, a bushwhack through dense coastal shrubbery was required to get there but eventually that faint path became overgrown and lost forever. Nonetheless, we tried to use the old path but couldn't get past the impenetrable growth and we all sported scratches as souvenirs of our failed attempt. Fortunately, I knew of an easier way to get there ("Why didn't you go there in the first place?" says everybody) and while that did require some bushwhacking, at least the bushwhacking took place on the edge of a sheer cliff. 

Our reward for the bushwhack

We did attain the intended viewpoint where the cliffs were covered by dense mats of inch-high dwarf lupines. We all plopped down to lupine level to take photographs of the diminutive flowers and their many attendant bumblebees. And of course, there was the epic surf, coast, and cliff scenery curving to the north under an amazingly superlative blue sky. Much nature appreciation abounded.

Cape Blanco presides over this bay

On the latter part of the hike, we stopped at other, and easier to access, viewpoints but none were imbued with the very secretness enhancing the vista seen from the special hidden overlook we had visited. However, the ever evolving coastal panoramas were still worthy in their own right. The last of these viewpoints was atop Blacklock Point itself, with a row of islands stretching west like an oceanic chain of pearls. Wind-stunted wildflowers grew on the point's summit while Cape Blanco presided at the end of a long curving beach to the south and we just sat and soaked in the view for a while.

One hiker is warier than the other

While I profusely apologized to Anne for the scratchy bushwhack thing, she said that if that was the worst thing that happened to her, then this had been a good day. Deciding to push my luck, I whipped out Anne's weighty tome of hiking don't-do's and found out that eating ice cream was not included in that interminable screed. So we did that very thing in Bandon to close off what had been an awesome 9.7 mile hike with some awesome friends.

Best View Ever

For more photos of this hike, please visit the Flickr album.

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Blacklock Point

Blacklock Point is a frequent repeat customer hike of mine. Rinse, wash, repeat: Blacklock Point, over and over again, like a trail version of Groundhog Day. But why not? The coastline is particularly dramatic with imposing cliffs looming over a narrow beach, and the trail spends lots of quality shade time in between all the awesome viewpoints. Catch this little section of the Oregon Coast Trail in spring and you will be rewarded with impressive wildflower displays of rhododendron, lupine, iris, wild strawberry, and coastal huckleberry (see photo above). Frogs and newts populate the vernal pools covering the trail and naturally, feet get wet and muddy, always the sign of a great hike. Of course, catch the Blacklock Point and Floras Lake area in winter, and hikers will be "rewarded" with nasty wind and rain; been there and done that, too. But for me, the prime attraction is one clifftop viewpoint in particular that seems to get harder and harder to get to due to encroaching brush. But until it becomes impossible, as opposed to plain old very difficult, I'll take yet another spin on the Blacklock Point merry-go-round.

Yes, it was windy

I'm not the only one that feels that way, for The Friends of the Umpqua Hiking Club is also a frequent flyer to Blacklock Point and thus, an early May hike was scheduled there. It was time to get back on the Blacklock Point hamster wheel to renew my never-ending acquaintanceship with the aforementioned fantastic coastal scenery. Grandson Daweson had never been, though, so he was only too eager to come along with me.

Daweson demonstrates the proper technique
for getting past standing water

It was a gorgeous day at the coast. The sun was out, the sky was blue, and the trail was covered with deep puddles that were nearly ponds, or whatever is the next rank up from deep puddles. Well, two out of three isn't bad! When we arrived at the first puddle covering the trail, Daweson looked at me, and I at him, and without discussing the matter further, we simply splashed through like the two boys we are. Once across, we had to wait for our comrades to finish beating their way through the brush and side trails to get around. It's amazing the lengths people go through just to keep their feet from getting wet, like the Wicked Witch of the West was their podiatrist, "My feet are melting! My feet are melting! Oh what a world!"

The trail was newty

Snakey, too!

Newts and cute little baby garter snakes were in abundance on the wet trail, delighting amateur herpetologists and horrifying squeamish hikers with equal amplitude. Neither specie was afraid of the puddles, either. Anyway, after dodging puddles, newts, and snakes; we arrived at the junction with the Oregon Coast Trail and made the left turn toward Blacklock Point.

Into the deep, dark, woods

The woods were as dark and cool as a troll's lair, and I liked it. Shade loving plants like rhododendron and skunk cabbage thrived in the undergrowth just off trail. And just past an awesome backpacking campsite (I speak from personal experience), the forest ended and we walked out into bright sunlight, blinking myopically like so many cave newts. Sun and blue sky, it's finally summer: not! Despite the sunny day, a blustery arctic wind had teeth chattering in no time at all, while cuffing us around on the grassy cliff south of Blacklock Point. Jackets were quickly donned, and loose hats and caps were quickly doffed and stuffed into packs and pockets so they wouldn't blow away.  

View to Cape Blanco on a fine day

Despite the wind that made photography difficult (lets see you try to take a picture while staggering in the wind like a spastic marionette!), the views were awesome. To the south, the coast arced gracefully to Cape Blanco with the little bay bisected by the Sixes River and Castle Rock. Wind-driven whitecaps dotted the deep blue ocean's surface like a bad case of marine dandruff. I thought I spotted a tell-tale spout from a whale's blowhole but really, it could have been a whitecap too, it really was hard to tell the difference.

Yay,we got us some cliffs!

A short walk along the grassy edge of the Oregon world brought us to the Blacklock Point overlook. Directly below, reposed the black rocky crag of Blacklock Point itself, with a chain of islands dot-dot-dotting a stepping-stone path away from land. Normally, we stop longer to enjoy the view but the consensus was we all just wanted to get out of the wind. It really was cold!

This was the easy part of the bushwhack

So, back to the coastal trail we go and the next item on the itinerary was a clifftop viewpoint overlooking a waterfall. Rheo swears there is a path to the cliff but once again (this happened last year, too) we didn't see an obvious path. There was a less obvious path though, and for some reason, I found myself in front, leading the way for a pack of increasingly disgruntled hikers.

Straight down

The brush was thick and scratchy and we had to duck a number of scraggly tree limbs, the clawing branches seemingly intent on applying a tree tribal tattoo to the unwilling. The end result was we didn't get to the cliff Rheo wanted but we did manage to get to my favorite viewpoint in all of Oregon. Or, at least my favorite view until the next great view on the next great hike. 

No caption needed

The cliff here is orange dirt and is oddly barren. But oh, the view! The abrupt and cliffy edge of Oregon was visible for maybe about 20 miles or so with the sandy coastline curving north towards an unseen town of Bandon. And yes, we could see a bit of the waterfall, even though Rheo said the view thereof was cooler from the southern cliff. For some reason, nobody wanted to bushwhack over to the other viewpoint to the south. A hasty retreat was beat to tall grass, and lunch was eaten in an impromptu windbreak of grass and coastal scrub. 

Bushwhackers, and not all that happy, either

The enjoyment was short-lived however, as again I was designated like a Vibrum-soled and incredibly handsome Moses, to lead my people to the Promised Land, the sanctified destination in this case being a return to the trail. Yikes! I was familiar with the bushwhack route away from the viewpoint but the brush has really overgrown what was really a faint path to begin with. I knew I was about to get foul invective hurled my way when I had to butt-scoot, fully prone on my back, under a dense thicket of wind-twisted spruce trees. When we finally made the trail with most of us scratched and bloody, six-year old Emma (our youngest hiker) sported a toothy grin and gave me a high-five. "That was fun!", she said. I couldn't agree more, although most hikers agreed less.

A rock arch decorates the beach below

Our next little bushwhack venture further down the coastline, was to an overlook of a stately rock arch on the beach below. However, the bushwhack was nowhere as arduous as what we had done earlier, darn it. At this point, we split up into two groups with six mileage addicts following me further down the coast.

Trail through woods most excellent

The Oregon Coast Trail here peels away from the coast and follows an old road bed through a sublimely beautiful forest. The undergrowth was lush and green, and the tree branches overhead were as gnarled and twisted as a wizened hag's fingers, but enough about my ex-wife!. You could almost hear the Wicked Witch of the West cackle from the tangle of limbs "Come here, my prettys!". Then suddenly, we strode out into bright sunlight where we overlooked wind surfers flitting on and above Floras Lake, our turnaround point.  

Boots were harmed in the hiking of this hike

Daweson and I explored the beach a bit while the others headed back on the Oregon Coast Trail. The OCT had more puddles deep enough to nearly attain pond status. Frogs jumped into the water in panic but we could see them on the bottom, eyes closed and clicking their webbed heels frantically: "There's no place like home, there's no place like home, there's no place like home!" 

Cleared for takeoff!

Well the OCT portion of the route, while pretty and all, was over 3 miles long in returning back to the trailhead at Cape Arago Airport. At the airport, the proper and safe route calls for hikers to cross a field above the runway and return via the Blacklock Point Trail. But tired hikers and tired grandsons cheat and walk down the runway, nervously looking over their shoulders for incoming planes. As Daweson and I drove home to Roseburg, he started planning a return trip for his younger brother Issiah. Looks like Daweson, wants another ride on the Blacklock Point Twirl-a-Whirl, and I completely understand.

Rhododendron bugs me

For more pictures of this hike, please visit the Flickr album.

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Blacklock Point

My last hike in the Owyhee Uplands was all about dry sagebrush and arid terrain. A week later, I'm at Blacklock Point in a veritable coastal jungle bursting with rampant and unrestrained greenery. Talk about extremes! However, the comparison to the Oregon desert is the only thing extreme about Blacklock Point. The trail is user-friendly, mostly flat, and the view north to Bandon from a clifftop perch is my favorite view in all of Oregon. So why where there only 5 of us at the trailhead on a semi-sunny morning? That's because all the stay-at-homes are slackers and that's OK because we got the better deal, enjoying a fine spring morning on the Oregon coast.

One of 1,012,058,216 rhododendrons seen on this hike

From the start at quiet Cape Blanco Airport, it was obvious this was rhododendron time at the coast. The trail was a narrow alley carved through 10 foot high bushes all flecked with pink from the showy blooms. Rhododendron petals carpeted the trail and most of the winter and early spring mud puddles that customarily swamp the trail were dried up. We only had to take a dry-footed detour around just one or two of the seasonal watering holes.

Wind, personified

The hike to Blacklock Point from the Cape Blanco Airport is short and sweet and we arrived there in short order. The cliff-edge trail sports great views of the wild coast stretching out to the Sixes River and Cape Blanco. And of course there is Blacklock Point itself, a rocky pyramid with a chain of small islands extending out into the ocean. It seems like every time I've been here, a strong chilly wind blows and today was no exception. Dave worked his way out to the top of the point while the rest of us dithered about where to eat lunch, the consensus being nobody wanted eat lunch in the frigid breeze.

It's a Richard Hike even when it's not

Rheo, who was leading this hike led us on a bushwhack venture down into a small ravine with an unseen creek lurking in the waist-high brush. She warned us to watch our step but that didn't stop me from disappearing into the creek's cleft hidden in the tall brush. Once the creek crossing was safely navigated by all but yours truly, it was a rather rigorous scramble up a steep slope covered with thick brush and trees.

Bushwhacking makes us happy!

Caryn and I were lagging behind the others and Rheo called down to us, telling us to take a path to the left. We did and boy, was it ever the wrong way to go! The two of us slithered and crept through a thick tangle of small trees wanting to pluck our eyes out with their bony claws. With a sarcastic "Thanks, Rheo!", we rejoined our comrades on a cliffy viewpoint with a nice overlook of Blacklock Point. Arguably, the scratchy bushwhack could qualify this hike as a Richard Hike, but hey, I'm the victim here, this time.

Tunnel of doom

We continued onward on the Oregon Coast Trail where I led our little group to a hidden viewpoint with what may be my favorite view in all of Oregon. However, getting there was all the "fun". The path to the viewpoint, in years past, has always been brushy and has always required a rather rigorous bushwhack. However, the thick coastal scrub has pretty much claimed the old path nowadays so I led my innocents on a different route that still left scratches. This was the Richard Hike portion of this little venture and I accept full culpability.

The best view ever!

The view north from this viewpoint toward Bandon is superb with a row of cliffs resembling an ancient colonnade marching off into the misty distance. The sun was sort of out and the fog was sort of in and the sight of the endless procession of waves crashing onto the narrow beach was awesome. A small creek plunged off the cliff here, and we all admired the resulting waterfall. Well worth the blood, sweat, and tears to get here, in my opinion.

Paintbrush hanging out with the lupines

After lunch, Dave and I continued on for a longer loop hike while the others headed back to the car. The Oregon Coast Trail ambled through a dense forest comprised of spruce with a healthy undergrowth of salal and rhododendron. Periodic openings allowed us the odd view from the cliffs every now and then.

Salal was also in bloom

We went as far as Floras Lake and by this time, a gray cloud cover had scudded in, there would be no more sun the rest of the day. The rest of the hike was a pleasant amble on an old road bed with one airport runway crossing interspersed. All in all, a nice hike on an old friend of a hiking trail.

Dave and Caryn scramble down Blacklock Point

For more pictures of this hike, please visit the Flickr album.

Cape Blanco

The weather had been wet and cold and it'd been three weeks since I'd last set foot on the trail. The need to hike was fast becoming a medical condition. Fortunately, the weather gods decided to bestow favor upon us waterlogged Oregonians by giving us a sunny, albeit cold, day on the last weekend of 2012. Not wanting to appear impolite by spurning the sunny gift, Maggie The Hiking Dog and I headed to Cape Blanco to work off some post-Christmas dinner calories with an 8.7 mile hike.

Castle Rock, seemingly sitting in a field

The shadows were still long in the morning sun as we got off to an early start. Sallying forth from the historical Hughes House at Cape Blanco State Park, we strode across a grassy pasture alongside the Sixes River. Castle Rock, a prominent rocky island, appeared to be sitting in the middle of all the grass as the ocean was not yet visible. Maggie, totally in her element, splashed happily in the large puddles on the trail.

View to the Sixes River

We eschewed the beach walk on this particular hike, heading instead uphill on the Oregon Coast Trail. A muddy climb up a wooded bluff took us to a nice view of the mouth of the Sixes River. It was interesting because two months earlier, John and I had camped at the mouth of the Sixes and we had crossed back and forth across  the Sixes on a sand bar damming the river. However, that was then and now the Sixes was carrying a lot of roaring water through the demolished sand dam.

Trail tunnel

Staying in some incredibly dark woods atop the ocean bluffs, the trail basically cut across the neck of Cape Blanco. After a mile or two, the trail spit us out of the coastal forest and offered us a nice view of windswept and grassy Cape Blanco jutting out into the ocean with the famed lighthouse affixed atop the cape like a New Year's party hat on a drunk reveler.

Beauty at the campground

Bypassing the lighthouse (been there, done that) because we had more miles to hike, we crossed the headlands, covered with a dense growth of wind-stunted salal, before re-entering the woods. A short walk brought us into the hiker and biker camp at the Cape Blanco Campground. Maggie and I walked through the campgrounds where campers exclaimed "How cute!" followed by much head patting and chin scratching. I think Maggie was jealous I was getting all the attention.

The only thing needed for a beach hike was a beach

Disappointment awaited us at the beach as the tide was high with waves rolling up all the way to the end of the paved road from the campground. The beach was covered with an ankle-breaking pile of logs and debris at least 10 yards wide, leaving no sand to walk on.  Would this be a prematurely ended hike or would this be instead a Richard Hike? That was the question.

Maggie explores an upside-down stump

I answered the question by waiting for a wave to recede and then running or walking fast before the next wave rolled in. As the next wave came in, Maggie and I would then seek safety on top of the log piles and then repeat the whole process over again when the wave receded. While the going was slow, we did manage to cover about half a mile before finding easier going on the dunes behind the log piles.

Tsunami debris

There has been so much driftwood piled on our beaches this year, it may be from the tsunami in Japan. There was plenty of obvious tsunami debris such as pop and water bottles but most of the debris consisted of logs, indeterminate pieces of lumber, and a gazillion little pieces of plastic. Some of the debris, like flip-flops, plastic baseballs, and baby rattles, were profoundly poignant and tragic. I picked up a water bottle, imagining a pair of hands placing the bottle into a shopping cart, the hands' owner at the time being totally unaware of the disaster that would befall northern Japan. Just an ordinary household item, lying on an Oregon beach, brought here by such a horrible tragedy.

Incoming!

So, between dune-walking, wave-dodging, and log-hopping we made slow and steady progress on the beach towards a tall and sheer cliff. At the cliff the sand petered out altogether, marking an unexpectedly early encounter with the Elk River.

Let's hike across the Elk!

According to my maps and guidebooks, the mouth of the Elk River should have been further south. But a water laden river goes where it wants to go, and the Elk has migrated north by running right under the cliffs paralleling the shore line. A sandy island across the way was not an island at all; upon closer inspection the island instead was the spit of sandy beach on the other side of the river.

The Elk River meets the ocean

The official Oregon Coast Trail calls for walking across the Elk River to which I reply "Are you freaking kidding me?" The river was wide, deep, turbulent, and running fast and strong. No way. Maybe in the summer, but there'd have to be a lot less water in it.

The beach is made entirely of wood

The river clashed violently with the ocean, causing waves to form with no rhyme or reason. The waves came ashore unpredictably from all angles and directions and I kept my head on a swivel as there was precious little sand to stand on. A large wave erupted forth for no apparent reason and I hopped atop the driftwood pile. The wave kept coming and the pile began to shift and move with ominous cracking sounds.  I learned a new skill: doing a speedy 50 yard dash atop moving logs. When the wave receded, it was time to leave: the mouth of the Elk River was indeed a very dangerous place.

Cape Blanco at the end of the day

The trip back was pretty uneventful as the tide had receded enough to allow us to walk on the beach with just the occasional wave chasing us up into the logs. As we headed back to the car, the shadows lengthened and we enjoyed views of the cape, Castle Rock, the Sixes River and all points in between. It was a nice way to close out 2012.

For more pictures of this hike, please visit the Cape Blanco photo album in Flickr.