Saddle up for adventure
Story & photos by Gretchen Ammerman
Oregon Coast TODAY
We got lucky with a beautiful, sunny day. Playing outside on the Central Oregon Coast in February can often end up with pretty soggy results. The goal was to try one activity each from hikebikepaddle.org, a website that makes it easy to find fun places to play near Waldport, Seal Rock and Yachats.
Tying the area together with the motto “Three Villages, One Stoplight, Magnificent Trails,” the site provides an interactive experience, where you can sort by preferred activity to get good descriptions, directions and clear maps to many outdoor spots. The site even throws in a little cultural and natural history about this 20-mile stretch of the coast.
For the first two activities, my constant canine companion Scout and I were meeting Nancy Steinberg and her dog, Timber. Timber had spent time with us as a foster and the two four-leggeds remain the best of friends, so Nancy and I anticipated a pleasant morning watching crazy play followed by a calm evening with tired dogs.
We met at Beaver Creek, Brian Booth State Park between Seal Rock and Waldport, a fairly popular spot for runners, walkers, bikers and dog owners.
With a main artery that is relatively flat and wide enough for park maintenance vehicles, this is a great place to try biking with a dog on leash, something that takes patience and confidence but is richly rewarding.
“I’ve walked here a lot,” Nancy said. “Biking it gave me a whole new perspective.”
Off the main section are many wilder, steeper sections that are great when on foot and provide occasional views of the ocean. Elk and deer are regular visitors, and the nearby Beaver Creek marsh system provides habitat for waterfowl, so herons, egrets, ducks and geese are all seen or heard on a regular basis. Especially if you do not have a dog with you.
After a great ride, we headed to Waldport, stopped to enjoy a cup of coffee on the dog-friendly deck at the Hilltop Café Bistro, then headed to a spot Nancy had never been to, the Woodland trail, a wild and wooded area with towering trees that begins one block from Highway 101, close to the middle of town.
“Wow, I can’t believe I’ve never been here,” she said. “We’ve lived in Newport a really long time and I definitely would have come here before if I’d known about it.”
We hiked the few miles out and back, taking time to completely fail at getting Timber and Scout to take cute photos on the interestingly formed roots that occasionally drape across the trail.
Once back at the cars, we played around a little more on the website, looking at some of the other options listed.
“I feel like the areas around Waldport and Seal Rock are often overshadowed by Yachats with respect to stuff to do in South County,” Nancy said. “It’s so great to discover trails there — low-key stuff, but so beautiful too! South County is often seen as only Cape Perpetua but it’s fun to learn about these other hidden gems.”
Nancy had an appointment that afternoon, so I headed back north to Beaver Creek and inflated my stand-up paddle board on the small grassy area next to the boat ramp on the east side of Highway 101.
Beaver Creek is one of the more well-known of the area’s waterways, with places to launch kayaks on both sides of the highway. But, on this day, I had it to myself and it was glorious. Scattered clouds reflected off the glassy water, made calmer by the reeds, sedges and cattails that live along the lower sections of the creek, providing habitat for many different varieties of ducks who are often invisible until you are upon them but then take to the skies with a dramatic-yet-ungainly start that, at one point, made me laugh out loud.
The noise I made was met with very little amusement by a huge, great blue heron sitting in wait for a meal on one of the broken trees that jut a few feet above the water. It turned and fixed me with a stare that reminded me to only use my inside voice from then on.
I probably could have spent hours slowly exploring, but, with lots left to explore, I headed back to the car after about 45 minutes, tired and happy at having completed the world's slowest but prettiest paddle triathlon.
The rivers and trails weren’t the only things I learned about that day. The website also led me to the Alsea Bay Water Trail, which starts at the Port of Waldport.
Currently getting a face lift, the area has a boat launch, public restrooms, two places to eat and a spot to rent crabbing supplies.
“The upgraded crab docks and port area are exciting to see,” said Jesse Dolin, Central Coast destination coordinator for the Oregon Coast Visitors Association. “It really is a fun area and has been needing some upgrades. Robinson Park is cool too: BBQs, tables and a great beach with an amazing bridge view.”
A Waldport native, Dolin’s roots in the area go deep.
“It’s a happy place for me; full of memories,” he said. “I practically lived at those crab docks when I was a kid, especially during the time I lived next door on Bay Street. My mom said I was like the mayor of the crab docks, walking around giving tips and instruction at 12.”
This is definitely a good place to meet locals and chat about hopes for activities that might return later this year, like the Waldport Lighted Dog Parade, an event that gives proud dog owners the chance to go all out with shiny decorations, then show them off with an out-and-back walk across the Waldport Bridge.
Another big-area, small-town experience happened during my recon for a paddle launch site. Walking out on a metal walkway that projects out into the Beaver Creek marshes, I ran into a lovely woman and very cute child. Unmasked, as I had been only planning to pop out and check to see if it would be a good spot for paddling, I gave them space but asked if they would be willing to pose for a photo for the Oregon Coast TODAY. I received an email a few hours later, asking for copies of the photos, and learned I had met Emy and Eila Syrop, the wife and daughter of Jeff Syrop, director of the North Lincoln County Historical Museum in Lincoln City.
Though Jeff assured me I had not bothered them on their walk, I still remember the look that Eila fixed me with; it reminded me very much of one I had received from that harassed heron.