This morning, I brew coffee in my electric coffee maker, plug in the satellite radio, and get on the Internet. I post to the blog and, most important, pay my August bills on-line.
At 11:00AM, I'm on the road south, on Highway 101, to the town of Newport. It's a "tourist" town, but there's a good seafood restaurant there.
First, however, I've got some fifteen year-old "business" to take care of. In 1997 or so, shortly after I was promoted to Group Counsel at work, the General Counsel asked me to plan the annual Law Conference. Dating back to the Litton Industries days, these conferences were spectacular affairs. Attorneys and their spouses or "significant others" spent a week in some exotic location...Puerto Rico, Napa Valley, Hilton Head. You meet for "business" for a few hours in the morning, then you've got the rest of the day free for horseback riding, deep-sea fishing, winery tours...you name it. In the evening, there's an open bar followed by a fantastic dinner.
So...my only instructions are to find a proper "resort" somewhere between Beverly Hills, California and Seattle, Washington...and to plan the meals and activities. For me, this is the perfect assignment.
After much research, I select the Salishan Lodge on the Oregon coast as the place for our conference. Working with lodge management, I plan out salmon dinners on the beach, several Oregon wine tastings and lots and lots of other cool stuff. This is going to be one of the greatest conferences ever...and my very first trip to Oregon.
One week before the conference, my home division decided to buy another company...and the purchase is on an accelerated schedule. And I have to be around to take care of the legal end. And so, the conference went on without me. Everybody else was drinking their Oregon wine with their salmon while I was sitting in a cramped dark room in Warren, Michigan looking over documents for sixteen hours a day.
The Salishan Lodge is about ten miles south of Lincoln City, and today...sixteen years later...I finally get to see it. Man...it's nice. Rustic, but luxurious...the rooms are huge and detached from the main building...award-winning restaurant...kick-ass wine cellar. I really missed something back in 1997...but at least I finally got to see the place.
Onward to Newport...and disaster. It's Saturday, and the roads and streets are clogged with vehicles and people. It takes me an hour to find a parking spot in Newport...and it's 1.3 miles from my restaurant...with the last 1/3 of a mile a very, very steep angle (like a street you'd find in San Francisco). Along the way, I try another parking lot...and, as soon as I turn in, I realize that I have made a mistake. There is no "exit", and I'm trapped. I'm towing the camper, and it takes me twenty minutes to maneuver my way out.
So, I hike the 1.3 miles to the restaurant. There's a thirty-minute wait, but I have a glass of wine at a table outside until a table opens up. It is at this point that I discover that I have left my wallet in the camper. I have twenty dollars cash on me and no credit cards. So...I hike back to my car...up the steep hill. Then back down the steep hill and back to the restaurant.
They seat me right away, and the food is excellent...some fresh tuna "poke", some big juicy panko-coated oysters pan-fried, and fresh strawberry ice cream for dessert.
Then, I've got the return hike to my vehicle. I had planned on staying at an RV Park in Newport, but it's booked. In fact, everything in Newport looks "booked"....hotels, State Parks, RV Parks...everything say "no vacancy". And the crowds...man...there's people everywhere. I can't take this.
So...I head south forty miles or so to the town of Florence. The coastal drive is a mild disappointment. There's a spectacular twenty-mile stretch just north of Florence, but much of the rest is "inland"...just a few glimpses of the ocean.
I find a nice RV Park south of Florence...they have a spot for me. After my big lunch, a few snacks are all I need this night.
So...that's where I am now...the Woahink Lake Good Sam Park in Florence. And as soon as I finish this post, I'm heading for bed.
I'm making another "command decision"...cut the Oregon coast part of the trip by a few days. Tomorrow, I'll head down to Crescent City, California...and then on to a few days of camping at Mount Shasta.
I really like this state of Oregon...and I'll be sorry to leave.
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