As has become SOP now, we wake, pack and load up the car. We’d noticed that Vinny’s had a breakfast menu when we were there just sixteen hours before, so we decided to try our luck a second time. I had pancakes and bacon, which were excellent in that simple, homely way that America does so well, whilst my companion had a breakfast burrito - when this arrived it was literally the size of a brick and weighed about the same. He could only manage half of it in one sitting, so the rest came with us in a take out box.
As we were driving out of town, we had to stop a number of times just to wonder at some of the sights that locals must treat as totally ordinary - thousands of tonnes of stacked lumber, awaiting shipping; rusting, crumbling industrial buildings; mint green wrought iron bridges floating in out of the fog. It seems, as we pass through them, that many of Oregon’s towns are built around industries supported by the stunning landscapes that encircle them - this gives every place a slightly gritty, entirely honest feeling, which comes with its own sort of practical beauty.
One of our latter stops is in front of what seem to be sand dunes, but intermingled with pine forest landscapes. It’s a bizarre combination, and seems almost impossible - that is until we take a turning towards a national park sign and are confronted with one of the most remarkable landscapes I’ve ever encountered, namely miles upon miles of towering dunes, dotted with what look for all the world like alpine groves and lakes. This is Hauser Sands, a stretch of wind driven sand that stretches for miles up and down the Oregon coast, but that stretches far enough in land that it’s started to engulf the surrounding forests - this battle between competing natures is actually the same landscape that inspired Frank Herbert’s Dune series and it’s not hard to see why as we put on our boots to explore.
As it turns out, local Oregonians use these dunes as a sort of ATV playground and whilst the colder weather presumably keeps the place pretty quiet, we see a few dune buggies and motocross bikes whipping across the sand as we hike around. The dunes themselves are tens of metres high in some places, with the windward sides sculpted in subtle, sinuous curves by the ever present winds that rake across the higher ground. Whilst the sheer quantity of sand is impressive, it’s the juxtaposition between the desert and green forests that is most striking - small lakes are ringed by fir trees and devolve into almost-swamps filled with murky brown water as the two types of environment battle it out. The pictures don’t do things justice, so I’d encourage a stop, or even a detour, if you’re ever in the state.
We hike for a few hours and then return to the car to continue up along the misty costal roads, before heading inland to Eugene - one of Oregon’s larger cities and where we were intending to stay for the night here, but it’s a gritty town and I think we’ve had our fill of motels, so after a brief stop to try and stock up on hiking gear (unsuccessfully) we keep moving an dry to get closer to the trailhead we have picked out for tomorrow. Leaving Eugene, we notice the roads start to climb upwards and snow begins to appear at the side of the road in ever-increasing amounts. By the time we spot our destination - a small selection of rental cabins - the snow is sleeting down and the temperature hovers around freezing. I leap out of the car, to see if they have any availability and am greeted by an older couple sat at what should be a busy bar but is currently deserted. They seem a bit shocked to see me, as I’d interrupted their dinner, and explain that they haven’t really opened the cabins yet, given the time year and (gulp) the terrible weather. They direct us back down the road a ways to a motel that we passed a few minutes ago.
The motel is called Harbick’s Country Inn and I’m greeted by a very pleasant gentleman, although he seems equally surprised when I tell him that we’re here to hike. Thankfully he has a room§ for us, so we move in and then head to Takodo’s, the only restaurant that’s open in the neighbourhood. We are the only two people in the place, other than the teenager that serves us and the cook, but we order some very serviceable sandwiches and a couple of beers before heading back to the motel - one thing we do discover is that the eponymous Harbick is actually a Senate hopeful who owns pretty much every building in the area. His politics are not something that I’d want to discuss here, but let’s just say I’m not sure I can buy his thinking on some issues. Slightly troubling political opinions aside, we retire for the night - tomorrow, we hike in the snow!