Cannon Beach

In the evening, as I was trying to confirm the location of our planned camping spot, a white van drove past us. Then, as I was driving on the rocky service road, it seemed that the van was a little lost, just like us, standing where the service road split in two. When I stopped and decided to walk to see how bad the road was before driving there and possibly not being able to drive back out, the van suddenly appeared from the curve, apparently following us. A young guy jumped out.

“Looking for a camping spot?” He asked.

“Hi! Yeah, just checking the road first. It should be down there,” I answered, walking down the road while my companion was waiting in the car.

“Mind if I join you?”

“Come along.”

“I’m Ricky, by the way.”

“Pavlína.”

And that’s how we met Ricky the van composer who would later, when we were sharing dinner, beers and stories from the road by the fire under the open sky filled with stars, tell us about Cannon Beach town.

In the morning, we quietly packed up as to not wake up Ricky sleeping in his van right next to where we crashed on the rocky ground, backed out of the dead-end road past another guy sleeping in his old mini-van (who swore the night before he’d be gone by 5 a.m. but was still sleeping, blocking the entry a little) and drove about 20 minutes to what was soon become one of my favourite places: Cannon Beach.

In the small parking right next to the ocean, we saw a couple bunnies breakfasting on a patch of grass. When we walked past, they didn’t seem to mind us and kept hopping around, unafraid. Later I found out that bunnies are a bit of a local thing. A woman selling shirts saying something like “we love our bunnies” told me that once, a few them escaped from their owner in the north part of the town and by now, there’s many of them just living off the land.

We played on the beach like children and I showed my companion how to make “quicksand” but quickly stepping on sand where the waves just come in. When I turned around a couple minutes later, they were stuck in the sand.

The morning was beautifully worry-free. Like when you were a child and woke up on a sunny Sunday morning and knew you don’t have to do anything. We ran on the beach and through the waves as Haystack Rock was watching from distance, still surrounded with a little bit of morning haze.

Coffee seemed like a good idea and we headed to Sea Level Bakery & Coffee. Their pastries we heaven as was their coffee. The place was packed with smiling people and had a very friendly vibe. The atmosphere there mirrored the people — good-natured and full of positivity.

Soon, it was time to go. We said goodbye to this little town — an unplanned, but one of our favourite stops on our long journey — and headed south on the Oregon Coast Highway.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.