The rock

| February 26, 2012 | 5 Comments

We finally get to Portland around 10pm. Good Friend Trish greets us. This is the second time we’ve stayed with her and hubby Craig. They are very generous to open up their house and allow us to flop there. It certainly helps with the trip finances when you can stay with someone. Some may call it ‘freeloading’, I like to think of it as creative planning.

This time around we decide to take a trip to the coast and check out Cannon Beach. Trish chauffeurs us. It’s about an hour and a half – a nice little day trip. The drizzle drizzled but we were undaunted. If you stayed at home every time it drizzled in Portland you’d become one of those homebody eccentrics who have piles of newspapers and magazines and then you die and no one can find you except they know something is wrong because it smells way whack.

Cannon Beach is a beautiful and quaint seaside town. Very much what you expect when one is expecting beautiful and quaint. You know, you could see yourself walking along the beach after your man servant, Stefan, served you a delicious breakfast of┬áPecan-praline pancakes with Venezuelan cocoa and quince. This would delight you so because who doesn’t like saying ‘quince’? Not me, that’s for sure.

The defining feature of Cannon Beach is the rock. It’s a big, honkin’ rock that sticks up out of the water. It’s big. It’s a big dang rock. There are all kinds of fabulous pictures on the internets of this rock. Much better than what I have here. There is the rock at sunrise. There is the rock at sunset. The rock avec seagulls. The rock in repose. What can I tell you, it’s an impressive rock.

I start walking towards the massive thing, and what do you know… it gets bigger and I capture someone doing a little Kabuki dance to keep the rushing water at bay.

There’s an entrance to the big rock. I think the sign probably says something about how you could get killed if you try to swim out to the big rock. It certainly would be cool to climb to the top of the big rock. But it also looks like you could easily get blown off and thunk like a thunk-a-dunk into the ocean below. Then cast off to sea and eaten by bottom feeder freaky fish. Probably not the auspicious ending you imagine.

Next to the rock are two baby rocks. I suspect they may be a bit jealous that the big rock gets all the attention. I mean, we didn’t have our picture taken in front of the two little rocks. No.

We had it taken in front of the dang big rock. Sometimes size does matter.

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Category: Beaches, Oregon, Scenic

Comments (5)

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  1. KMae says:

    Really love the big ‘breast’ rock!! It is beautiful!!

  2. e says:

    I see you had a very typical beach day out there on the beach. Damp, blowy, cloudy, sweatshirt weather. Gotta love Oregon! So much less skin cancer here.

    You might or might not want to mention that the rock has a name. It’s a famous rock, yes, you did imply that.

    Love kabuki~dude! Not a tremendous fan of Cannon Beach. Seaside is better just because it doesn’t pretend to be anything but a fun, goofy, cheap plastic toys and penny arcades beach town. With a beautiful beach.

    Carry on with the journey!

  3. maxine says:

    Haystack? Is that the name? I think so…we picked Cannon Beach because there was a yarn store and also because I had read about a tavern/brew house there…

  4. LizC says:

    I’m not a rock climber by nature (more of a hill walker), but something about that rock calls to me. Maybe it reminds me of my Scottish roots. Do you know if people do climb it?

  5. Deborah says:

    1. the first time i even heard of a quince was “White Men Can’t Jump” -Gloria practicing for Jeopardy. Foods that start with the letter “Q”
    2. Damn, that’s a big rock. Freaky big. Which, of course is redundant, because you said . . . but, damn.
    3. Uhm…entrance? Fuck dat shit.

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