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Andre's Story

I believe that I can trace my "addiction'' to Oregon's coastal wonderland to, among other things, the brief existence of an all-ages, alternative music club in Newport called Cape Fear. It was the regular performances there of a group of friends of mine - individually known as Brice, Travis, Dan and J, but collectively known as The Stanleys - that constantly brought me to the area!

This began in late 1995, just after I began working as a stringer for the daily newspaper in Salem, Oregon (about 80 miles from Newport.) My job was to cover nightlife, so, of course, following The Stanleys over to their Newport shows on a monthly basis was part of my job; right?

Traditions quickly fell into place. Cape Fear obviously allowed no alcohol, so a bar called Moby Dick's - just around the corner on Highway 101 - became our lifeline to the wild and crazy evenings that were to become routine.

Moby Dick's is an adorable little watering hole with an architecturally archaic interior, dressed resplendently in hues straight from the '70s, and a host of goofy cat posters left over from that era adorning its walls. But the crowning achievement of their interior decorator is an oil painting of a sailing ship with working lights inside of it, (yes, Velvet Elvis connoisseurs would be envious).

These monthly excursions also resulted in the first time that the guys were exposed to Newport's PipTide, an often surreal nightclub that features Top 40 cover bands. This, to them, was like walking into a time warp, especially with its raucous mixture of tourists and locals and the garish bands that actually succeeded in filling the dance floor. The looks on their faces that night were unforgettable. They stood slack-jawed and wide-eyed for a good, non-stop three minutes - no exaggeration.

But the interesting thing about these four guys, who were all in their early twenties, was that after getting tanked and staying up all night, they were as gung ho about exploring the coast the next day as I was. Life to them was not just a goofy frat party, but an opportunity to revel in discovering nature too.

This pioneer spirit quickly became tradition as well, and it led me to show them my favorite spot on the coast: A hidden set of cliffs that's just south of Depoe Bay. (I won't give away the exact location.) Here, you have to hike down a steep incline through dense trees, and you come out overlooking one of the most stunning - and unknown - views on the coast.

These cliffs stand about 50 feet from sea level, and are either jagged, basalt formations or covered with wild grass and fauna. At certain points, however, the basalt rocks form natural steps that are flat and make very comfortable seats.

On one particularly calm day, two of The Stanleys were able to crawl down quite close to the water and discovered a host of interesting sea life clinging to the rocks - the likes of which none of us had seen before.
Another unusually calm day brought us to the Devil's Churn at Cape Perpetua, which was lying quite still, rather than churning at all. The five of us played on the rocks for hours, daring what little waves were there to get us wet - and sometimes loosing. Brice began an unsavory game of taking large objects and tossing them into tide pools near any other member of our group, trying to get them wet. This, given the cartoonish nature of the members of The Stanleys, eventually erupted into one nasty competition of who-could-get-the-other-the-wettest.
Later that day, at a sandy beach near Seal Rock, three of the guys tried traversing a log that was suspended over a stream. Two of them fell in and got soaked, which I chalked up to karma for their little game at the Devil's Churn.

On yet another, glorious, sunny day, our little group - complete with hangovers acquired in Newport the night before - explored Wizard Rock, located at Road's End Park in Lincoln City. The tide was low enough that we could walk around the point to the other side, which unlocked a fairly untouched landscape of more rocks to climb on and yards of pristine sand.

It was kind of like Gilligan's Island, I thought. In fact, I wanted to leave Dan stranded there after he started lobbing huge rocks at each of us.

Of course, not all my most memorable experiences with the Central Coast have involved The Stanleys. There were several times I was separated from them in the morning and was forced to scout the coast on my own. On one of these days, I found yet another pathway to more hidden cliffs near Depoe Bay, which I still have not fully surveyed. There are the many times I lumbered around the rocks at Seal Rock by myself or with my girlfriend Kathy. These often yielded an endlessly delightful set of unusual vantage points from which to view the foamy tide in that area.

One day in Newport, Kathy and I had the remarkable, coincidental experience of running into her best friend, Kelly, who lives in Central Oregon. Later in the day, the three of us wandered to the Devil's Punchbowl - just north of Newport - where we found the tide low enough to explore its insides. Normally, this round, bowl-like rock structure is filled with an angry, swirling tide. But on this day, we were able to stand within its walls and imagine what it's like to be there in its usual state.
And of course, the food on the coast is yet another set of expeditions altogether.

For years, Yachats Crab and Chowder has been a necessary stop on visits down there.
During a pre-Cape Fear show dinner, Kathy and I discovered the excellent Mexican cuisine of Newport's Mazatlan restaurant. (There are several other Mazatlan's around Oregon, but this one is my favorite.) And then there's Chez Jeanette near Lincoln City, which, on a particularly ethereal winter evening, provided me with one of the more memorable filet mignons of my life. But if your tastes run a little more along the lines of pizza and microbrew beer, you can't beat the fare at the Rogue Ale Publick House in Newport.

There are times I imagine myself as a sort of lounge lizard version of Lewis and Clark: Standing at the western edge of the continent with a compass in one hand and a drink in the other. Okay, so that's a little melodramatic. But it's that oddball mixture of nightlife and nature that has made these memories of the coast so interesting, and continues to give me an endless array of options for exploration in the future. I suppose it's the Northwest's pioneer spirit that's rubbed off on me, whether its during the day or after dark.