We hit scenic Highway 101, aka the Pacific Coast Highway. It's well known throughout California and Oregon, as it rarely gets more than about 5 miles east of the ocean at any spot. Our first stop (and arguably the best one of the trip) was at Cape Blanco State Park. The park boasts a lighthouse, which you can tour for $4/person. Again, that seemed a little touristy and it was too foggy to get a good view, so we skipped it. But behold:
Cape Blanco Lighthouse
We drove through the park and found a terrific little campground (too bad we already had reservations elsewhere), and walked to the beach from there. Visibility was in and out, but as we were walking up the beach, Matt spotted a flipper rising from the water a hundred yards or so out from shore. We both got very excited, thinking maybe there was a porpoise or something fishing. Then we saw another huge flipper, and suddenly a giant fluked tail slipping beneath the surface and realized that what we were looking at was much bigger than a porpoise. It was a small pod of California Grey Whales!!! It looked to us like the pod was feeding, because you'd see a spurt from the blowhole, a substantial stretch of back and maybe a flipper, and then the tail. They stayed in the same area for nearly 15 minutes. I got excited and took several pictures, but never at the right time. I could show you, but it wouldn't be worth the space. Whales are very difficult to photograph, I think. And as we stood there watching, a seal poked its head out of the waves between the whales and us. Malia could say for sure, but I'm pretty sure it was a harbor seal.
The whales left us and visibility faded, so we returned to the car very excited and raving about what a privilege it was to see real, live whales out doing what whales do. We tried to figure out what kind of mountain wildlife sighting here in Idaho that it could compare to, and decided that it was like seeing wolves in the woods. They're an elusive population and it's rare to see them, they're a species in danger, and they're really not that afraid of humans. It was just amazing.
Our drive took us to Gold Beach, Oregon, which is where the Rogue River meets the ocean. Salmon season was in full swing, and we could see boat after boat near the river's mouth. We stopped to watch, and Matt was able to count 85 separate boats in the half-mile stretch of river between the ocean jetty and the river bridge. While we watched, what looked like a very graceful, very overstuffed sack of fat swam through the boats. It was a sea lion, and he was out fishing. You could tell the fishermen were getting agitated, as the critter was likely chasing the salmon and baitfish all over the place. The sea lion cavorted about for quite a while, then disappeared from view, presumably to enjoy his dinner.
It was a great day. Unfortunately, the night was not so good. Our campsite at Harris Beach State Park was much prettier and closer to the beach than our site the night before, and things started off well. However, a group of campers moved in two sites away from us at about 10:30 that night. It's not a good sign when folks show up that late. It means they're going to have their headlights on to set up the tent, then they're going to raise hell cooking and eating dinner. These people were beyond all of that. They had a new puppy that barked in a very shrill and repetitive manner and they never did anything about it. This pup literally barked for an hour straight. They performed the requisite "Stomp" reprise while making dinner, banging their pots with wild abandon. And just as we thought they'd settled down, the kids started skateboarding. At midnight. I was asleep through parts of this; I could sleep through a brass band much of the time. Matt, however, is another story. My sleeping bag and I horizontally levitated about a foot off the ground from fright when Matt finally bellowed, "It's after midnight! You need to quiet down!" Wasn't quite prepared for that, but it was worth it because a young voice called out, "Sorry!" and not another peep was heard out of them all night. I woke up the next morning to a very grouchy husband, though.