I hiked back up to the hikers' camp at Ecola the following day, Wednesday, August 1st. But instead of just doing the short hike, I took the four mile trail to Seaside, which is actually part of the Oregon Coast Trail (OCT). Back home in MO, a four mile hike usually takes me a little over an hour--but the conditions on this section of the OCT on this day involved mud--lots of it-- fairly strenuous ascents and pretty rapid descent at the end of the four miles. The total hike took about three and a half hours, and my GPS said I hiked a total of six miles. Just as I reached the Seaside Trailhead, I ran into two hikers wearing brand new tennis shoes--who said, "Is it really four miles to the next best vista?" They eyed my muddy hiking boots but decided to keep going. I wonder if they made it or they eventually turned around. (Actually, there were amazing views through the trees all along the trail.)
After hiking a mile and a half or so up the logging road in Ecola, you find yourself at a pristine backpacker's camp. No one appeared to be staying there; it was, however, as if park employees had set the camp up for display. Firewood was neatly propped in the fire ring; there was absolutely no trash anywhere. Pictured above are the bunks inside the cabin (I think there were two or three little cabins, with four bunks each). There were also restrooms although I didn't go inside them.
Parts of the trail have stairs and walkways to avoid erosion.
As I hiked, I could hear sea lions barking from the rocks in the Pacific Ocean. But every time I tried to use the video function on my camera to record the sound, they would be quiet. Guess I'll have to rely on my memory like I used to do in the old days.
Giant Sitka Spruce--alive and dead--are ever present on the trail.
At the end of the trail in Seaside is a street lined with posh homes. I called Paul to pick me up--and walked down the road to the beach. This cottage is located at the end of the strip of homes, right on the water. I took a photo because I loved the stone chimney and walls. Paul found me very easily, using intuition. I was sitting across from the ocean, on a bench near another walk that commemorates Lewis and Clark. He had spent the afternoon drinking a few microbrews and chatting with a man from Texas whose wife is also a schoolteacher.
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