Portland 2019: Saddle Mountain and Seaside

Last Tuesday, I woke up with one thought in mind: I had to convince Zach to take me to the beach.

Even though we've been in Portland for five months now, we had yet to make the two-and-a-half-hour drive to Oregon's very rainy, very chilly coastline, and I was determined to make it happen today.

Fortunately, half-asleep Zach agreed, Gary let us borrow the car, and by late morning we were on the road, listening to Jonathan Coulton songs and wending our way toward the coast.

How I look when I'm headed to the beach

Zach is more of a mountain man than a beach guy, but fortunately, in Oregon you don't have to choose: we agreed to do the 5.5-mile Saddle Mountain hike in the coastal range, which Zach had walked a few times but I had never visited.

After a couple hours and some winding up a steep road to the trailhead, we popped out into damp, chilly air, surrounded by a jungle of firs, ferns, and huge-leafed spiky plants called Devil's club. Chipmunks scurried out of our way as we started up the muddy trail.

Saddle Mountain as seen from a side trail

Summer in Portland is downright arid; everything turns kind of brown or muted green this time of year. Here in the humid coastal range, though, it was like spring all over again, the forest verdant and drenched in dew. Mist rose around us and we labored up the never-ending incline, snacking on salmonberries along the way.

After a couple miles, the trail emptied onto an alpine peak, a tumble of volcanic rock decorated with a breathtaking array of wildflowers. We tiptoed past the Columbia tiger lily and the foxglove, waded through the yarrow and western coneflower, and stopped to admire fields thick with a wild sunflower called Oregon sunshine. It was our only source of sunshine at the moment, because clouds hung low overhead, lending a welcome shade but little threat of rain. 

We paused only for a second at the first summit, then walked a very steep path down the "saddle" and back up the other side to the second summit, which was buried in a cloud. The steep descent and ascent knocked the breath out of me, and I knew my out-of-shape muscles would be hurting afterward! But at last we reached the summit, and found ourselves in the heart of a cloud.

It was completely silent up there. A crow, or perhaps a raven, materialized in the fog, and we could hear the wind rustling through his feathers as he wheeled around us. A swallow darted in and out of sight. The wildflowers bobbed soundlessly in a gentle breeze.

"Check out this view!"

It's true that a view would've been cool, but I loved being in the quiet and the mist and just hearing my heart beat.

After a while we headed back down (it took much less time on the way back), and left the misty world behind to drive to Seaside.

Improbably, the sun showed its face, and by the time we reached the coast, it was all clear blue skies. I had never seen Seaside in such sunny weather!

We walked along the shoreline, Zach in his tennis shoes avoiding the water and me in bare feet splashing through the frigid shallows. We discovered a swing set and I swung back and forth for several minutes, thinking that this was the most magical thing I had ever done. We walked some more, poked the empty crab shells along the tide line, ate some Taco Bell, and listened to the rolling waves.

We drove home to the tune of David Bowie's Aladdin Sane, both worn out, but both happy. I was so glad we got the chance to experience something that makes Oregon so special— mountains and beach in one day.

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