The End of the Line: Ocean to Ice
Honestly, the Oregon Coast this last week has been more than expected.
More beauty.
More awe.
More moments that feel divinely arranged.
And more rain.
Case in point.
Cape Lookout.
If you have never been there, the trail feels less like a hike to a viewpoint and more like a slow walk off the edge of the continent.
For almost three miles, the narrow peninsula stretches farther and farther out into the Pacific.
A narrow dirt trail through ancient forest.
Ocean on both sides.
With each step, time slows and the world gets quieter.
I was standing there on a precipitous rock, trying to decide what to do next. Over 800 feet down to the ocean in front of me. Towering King Kong-sized Sitka spruce behind me. There was no more trail. This was the end of the line.
Starfish / Tidepool (Indian Beach)
The tide at Indian Beach was exceptionally low. I wandered onto the exposed beach, bringing the camera as an afterthought. Then I stumbled into this hidden world of starfish, anemones, mussels, and tide pools. I have wanted to see a bunch of starfish like this since I was a kid.
The view was what I had expected. I was happy with that. And then I heard it.
Not the ocean.
Not the wind.
Huhwuhhhhhhhh!
Like an old man breathing out heavily.
I looked around. I expected to see a long beard. Oregon is known for those.
I heard it again, but it was coming from a different trajectory. There was more than one old man.
Old men. Plural.
I scanned and listened.
Nothing.
Dark Storm Opening from Ecola Lookout
Storm clouds hung over the Pacific near Ecola Lookout. It didn’t seem like there would be much of a sunset. I was just hoping to keep my camera gear dry. The Oregon Coast has a way of making weather feel alive. The rain stopped and sunset color poured through the clouds.
These old guys must be decked out in camouflage today. Very sneaky.
Then something inside registered. In my soul. And I smiled.
“I felt like maybe God was chuckling as he watched me scan the trees. And I thought: “Look down. You know this sound. You’re gonna like it.”
So I scanned the water. It was blueish green… like cold, shimmering liquid emeralds, decorated with white ribbons of sea foam.
Huhwuhhhhhhhh!
The surface of the water broke as spray filled the air, like a Yellowstone geyser.
Whales! There are whales!!
I watched for the next hour. There were LOTS of them. Gray whales with beautiful dark mottled skin and white speckles on their spring migration north.
Since the point where I was standing was so far out to sea it was the perfect spot to view the domain of these giant creatures.
Golden Ecola Coastline
Another evening. Same Ecola Lookout. Similar scenario. Found more than expected. I am learning that most of the best moments out here are the ones I never planned for at all.
The water near the cliffs is deep. The sea foam is made of dissolved organic matter from massive blooms of tiny phytoplankton. A whale buffet.
I couldn’t count the number in the pod, but they were spread out up and down the coast, parallel to the end of the point.
If it hadn’t been a rare morning with no wind, I never would have heard the noise.
Blue Moody Clouds Over Cannon Beach
This was one of those quiet evenings overlooking Cannon Beach where the entire coastline felt suspended between rain and light. I stayed far longer than intended just watching the weather move across the Pacific.
Without the little recognition of the sound in my mind… “Look down. You know this sound.” I never would have seen.
And when I did it was obvious. And the whales were everywhere.
God made it happen.
He lined up the factors.
He helped me to see something more than expected.
Sunset Colors Over Cannon Beach
Final light snuck through a break in the clouds on the horizon for just a couple minutes, painting the clouds over Cannon Beach.
I immediately thought about President Eyring’s talk from General Conference in April, “Prayers for Peace.”
“As we pray continually, no matter the circumstances of life, the Lord will offer us His peace and abiding support. I am reminded of the example of the sons of Mosiah, who had success in preaching the gospel and were made spiritually strong because they prayed constantly.
It is significant that their spiritual strength came from continued prayer rather than waiting to pray until a moment of crisis when they desperately needed divine help. Consistent prayer during joyous times and also during seasons of distress and grief will surely be rewarded according to His will and perfect timing.”
Cape Falcon View Through the Trees
Looking out toward the Pacific from the Cape Falcon Trail. I stopped here for a minute to take in the view and ended up standing there much longer than intended.
That was my lesson.
Continual prayers are helping me see. And that is why I am finding more than expected out here.
More miles ahead this week.
Pack’s on.
Let’s see what else shows up out there.
Note
Ocean to Ice (OTI) is a six-month, thousand-mile backpacking expedition through the Pacific Northwest and Canadian Rockies—used as a living laboratory.
I already know prayer works. This experiment is whether I can operate at a higher level with it—more consistently, deliberately, and in real time—as the world grows faster, louder, and more unpredictable.
Each week I’m sharing notes from the trail.
This week has been on the Oregon Coast.