Northern Oregon and Southern Washington Coast

I spent the night after my caving fiasco in a delightful hostel in a town called Seaside, Oregon. If you're ever in the area, I would recommend this as an interesting and inexpensive place to stay. I had a private room, plus access to all the facilities of the hostel, plus the company of friendly fellow travellers.

The one slightly disconcerting thing that I would like to warn you about in advance. On the back of the door you will see a sign bluntly informing you that you are in the Tsunami Risk Zone. This is helpfully illustrated by a map that shows this street and the surrounding several blocks underwater. The sign suggests that in the event of a Tsunami, should you mercifully avoid being drowned while sleeping, you should head inland and uphill. This probably seems like obvious advice, but I suppose when you're charging out the door into the face of a tidal wave it doesn't hurt to be reminded. Don't be too alarmed. I made it through the night without experiencing so much as heavy surf. I'm sure you will too.


There are a number of cool bridges between Seaside and the Washington State Border. They feature long stretches of a sort of pontoon bridge across enhanced sandbars, then short bursts of actual bridge, including a drawbridge or lift span in the middle to allow passage for tall aquatic traffic. Check out the Astoria-Megler Bridge across the Columbia River (also the Oregon/Washington State border). Young's Bay Bridge is also impressive.

After crossing the Columbia River at the Astoria-Megler Bridge, the surprised traveller arrives at a place inspiringly named "Dismal Nitch." Honestly, I couldn't make up stuff this good. The story of Dismal Nitch is actually quite interesting and I encourage you to read about it from this more sensible authority.

Driving up the Washington coastline I noticed a number of things. First, that the area is dotted with quite large towns. Second, that the whole thing is apparently part of the Tsunami Risk area. There are cute little signs by the side of the road showing a tiny person climbing up a hill while gigantic waves bear down behind him. The sea looked pretty calm, even serene, from everywhere that I looked. Maybe it was trying to lull me into a false sense of security.

This part of the country was built on the backs and powerful shoulders of loggers. Some traces of the glory days of the timber industry are still visible. Below is a photograph of Hoquiam Castle, built by a lumber baron in Hoquiam in 1897. It is now a B&B, with all the history that so much improves such places.