My mom has a great love of buying things at garage sales, re-selling them on Ebay, and collecting the profits in a “girl’s fun money” jar. So far this has resulted in at least one fun girl’s trip every time Amy happens to be in town.
Well Amy came home recently, I think for my graduation but I’m not 100% sure, so we organized a Smucker ladies’ trip to the southern Oregon coast. We left Wednesday and came home Saturday and had a marvelous time.
Port Orford, the little town where we stayed, is three hours from home, and we extended this time by stopping at various second hand stores (where no one under the age of 65 ever seemed to donate) and fast food restaurants. At last we reached Port Orford, and tried to follow our Google Maps directions to our house, only to come to a fork in the road with “Private Property” posted up at both forks.
This prompted us to stop in the middle of the road and have a friendly argument for a bit, until Mom found the official directions from the property manager, which said “Go left at the fork.” So we did.
“I hope that’s not it,” Jenny exclaimed as we passed a small outbuilding.
“No, this is it,” said Amy as we pulled up to a very small cabin.
Amy later claimed that Jenny and I were very “homfey glomphy” about the cabin. It consisted of a small kitchen, small living room, and smaller bedroom all in a row, with a tiny bathroom tacked onto the living room as a sort-of lean-to. The whole house was a bit crooked and sloped, and there were no cupboard doors on the cupboards. Lo and behold, when we tried to flip the light switches, we discovered that there was no electricity either. So yes, we were a bit “homfey glomphy,” which I believe is a term my mom coined about 20 years ago when we were slumped and whiney.
However, my attitude changed when I woke from my nap about an hour later and discovered that Amy had found a small path over the dune to the beach. And it was the loveliest little beach, with its dark pebbly sand that was incredibly soft to sit in, and the giant green waves that broke right on the shore.
It was private, too. During our whole stay, I never saw anyone else on the beach besides my mom and sisters.
We spent the rest of the afternoon on the beach while the electricians came to fix the electricity problem, and then came home to a delicious meal of burrito bowls (cooked by Amy). After that we tried going in the hot tub, but while 92 degrees is hot when it’s an air temperature and the sun is beating down on you, it makes for a lame hot tub experience. So we gave up and retired indoors to watch Call the Midwife.
The next morning we all slept in as much as we pleased, taking morning beach walks at our leisure, and pausing to read books and do a little writing or watercolor painting. Amy whipped up a lovely lunch of make-your-own salads, complete with avocados and hard-boiled eggs and bacon and chicken and chickpeas and many other delicious topping choices.
After that, we headed north to hike around Cape Arago and end up at the Shore Acres gardens. This was the same hike that Ben and I had taken a little over a year ago, which I blogged about here. Like then, the pictures don’t do justice to the weird geography of Cape Arago, but here are a couple pictures of the beautiful views anyway.
…as well as one snap of Mom in the rose garden at Shore Acres.
If you’re wondering why Mom is on her phone in this picture, it’s because she was texting the property manager about our septic tank issues. Scarcely had our electricity been fixed, when our toilet began to resist flushing. The property manager was apologetic, and Mom was hinting that a partial refund would be nice, if they were hoping for a good online review and all.
By the time we’d finished our glorious hike it was past supper time. We drove to the nearest McDonald’s to buy smoothies for the drive home, and then ate a late supper of seasoned potatoes, chicken, and broccoli. Amy really spoiled us on this trip, food wise.
Jenny and Amy went to watch the sunset on the beach, while Mom and I got in the hot tub.
Then we watched more Call the Midwife, and went to bed, and tried not to flush the toilet too often.
The septic guys would be out the next morning, we were told. But in order to know for sure what happened next, you’ll have to come back for Part Two.
All photos taken by Amy Smucker.
lovely! And i am jealous of your mom’s walking sticks. 😉
So am I, because they’re actually Emily’s–a grad gift from Ben. They’re all lightweight, adjustable, titanium&cork, and so on. I had borrowed one for this hike, and Emily used the other. Then while we were exploring the rose garden, an older fellow came up to me and said he found this walking stick that matches mine. So that’s why I’m holding two in the picture.
Sorry, my comment was supposed to be a reply to Simone’s.
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That sounds like a private, quirky place. I have some friends who r going west in Sept, n this sounds like a lovely stopping place. How wud we get ahold of the owners?
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