And now on with the continuing saga now that *gag* Valentine’s Day is done…
Day 7 of my road trip with my sister had us leaving Port Angeles, WA and driving 343 miles to Lincoln, OR. And honestly, this day wasn’t too bad, other than we got stuck in a traffic jam that lasted 2 hours in Portland, OR. Apparently three o’clock in the afternoon on a Friday is not a good time to find yourself trying to drive through Portland. It’s like no one works until 5 o’clock on a Friday anymore! Fortunately, we stayed in a decent Motel 6 with an adjoining door between our rooms. We ended up ordering Chinese food for me and pizza for Katie—and Cash had whatever dog food we’d been lugging around with us for a whole week.
We left Lincoln, OR early on the morning of day 8—and we felt great. We quickly decided to take the 101 down the coast to see the best sights and we were not disappointed. If you’ve never driven along the Pacific coast in Oregon, you haven’t lived. Get some money and time together and complete this task immediately. Can’t recommend it enough. Along the way, we found The Devil’s Punchbowl and spent an hour in the morning walking the beach, completely in awe of the beauty. Sure, it was cold (and I was in shorts and a short-sleeve shirt), but we had a great time, and Cash was in Doggie Heaven.
When we left The Devil’s Punchbowl, the air in the car suddenly turned thick and the tension was palpable. Katie suddenly was contrary about everything. If I was hot, she was cold. If I was cold, she was hot. If I tried talking, she wanted silence. If I turned on the radio, it was too loud. If she wanted to listen to music, it wasn’t loud enough. Looking back, bless her heart, she was at the mercy of Aunt Flo and just wasn’t herself. When you’re hormonal and in pain (and losing blood), it’s hard to process everything and function as you normally would. God love her, she was definitely trying I’m sure.*
Finally, I ended up just being quiet and letting her have her way with everything. I froze in silence if she turned on the air. I sweated bullets in silence if she turned on the heat. So on and so forth. I decided that I would be quiet and agreeable so as to not upset her further. However, she was having none of my bullshit. As we were nearing Brookings, OR, an overnight stop we had decided on earlier in the morning, I told her that the Best Western Plus on the Beach Front allowed dogs. When she asked how much it cost and I didn’t have the answer, she threw her phone onto the dash of the car like a child. That would not stand. I had to make it worse. “Feel better now?” Yeah. Not the best response, in retrospect. I then proceeded to tell her how she’d been a raging asshole for several hours—and she just sat there, fuming, getting angrier and angrier—and I wasn’t taking my cue to STFU.**
When we got to Brookings, OR and hotel after hotel ended up having no vacancies, the storm began to swirl crazily. However, after a half hour, we found a place called The Westward Inn near the beach that took pets, and we checked in immediately at 1:30pm. However, we couldn’t get into our rooms until 3pm. So, we decided to drive down to Harris Beach State Park to kill time. However, Katie was giving me the daggers and not speaking to me the whole time we were checking in and then driving to the beach. When I parked at the beach, Katie asked if I was going to get out and walk with her. I responded that I’d sit in the car and relax a bit. She turned to me with all the vitriol she could muster and said “Just think about this while I’m on the beach—if you want, I can rent a car and drive myself home!” Again, I had to be a smartass. “That’s as ridiculous as your behavior has been all day.” I replied. That earned me a pissed off sibling bolting from the car with her dog and slamming my car door loudly. I had earned it.
So, I sat in the car and watched Katie march down from the parking lot to the trail towards the beach. After a moment, I grabbed my smokes and keys, intending to walk over to the wooden fencing that looked down off the cliff onto the beach below. However, I had barely locked the car and started to walk in the direction of the fence when I saw Katie jogging back up the trail, a worried look on her face, Cash hot on her heels. She jogged right over to meet me at the fence to stand by my side. Before I could ask what was up, I saw the police officers dragging someone up from the trail.
Before us (unfortunately I didn’t think to snap pictures or take a video—not that this was the best time to do that) the cops had what can only be described as a “sea hag”*** between them, her arms cuffed. This woman looked like if Ursula the Sea Witch had mated with Proboscis Monkey. Yeah. Precious. Apparently, Ursula the half-monkey woman had been doing a little day drinking on the beach because she had also been living there. Katie and I watched with morbid fascination as the cops dealt with the drunk woman. We listened as one cop shouted down to others further down the trail “She’s got more Gatorade bottles full of beer down there!” obviously wanting his partners to collect them. Ursula the Sea Monkey, wise woman that she was, replied “No I don’t!” Short pause. “They’re full of wine!” Well, obviously Katie and I couldn’t not laugh at this. Over the next couple of minutes as the cops hauled off the sea hag, Katie and I tried our hardest to not laugh so hard as to exacerbate Ursula’s rage.
Once she was gone, Katie and I were in better spirits from laughing, and quickly began talking through our issues. The sea hag saved the day—and the whole trip! We spent the next hour and a half walking the beach, playing with cash, taking pictures, and being happy, close siblings again. If only we had known that Ursula the Sea Monkey/Hag was all we needed, we would’ve gotten to Brookings, OR and Harris Beach State Park a lot quicker!
Once we finally got settled into our rooms at the hotel, we agreed that we needed to stay two days in Brookings, check everything out, and just relax. Over the course of two days, we ate at The Vista Pub and had fried cheese, onion rings, and fried zucchini, along with cheddar burgers (mine with mushrooms and onions). They couldn’t serve beer that day—but Katie and I handled it with aplomb if I do say so myself. The sea hag had spun our attitudes 180 degrees! We checked out the Harbor, The Kite Festival, went to the local grocery store, Ray’s, and bought 32 oz. growlers of local beer, and slept really well for the first time in 8 days.
The next day (day 9) we had lunch at Pancho’s Mexican Bistro—where they could sell beer—and then went shopping at a cute little place called A Wild Bird & Backyard General Store (it’s now closed so I didn’t include a link). The owner was super sweet and we both spent way more money than need be. We went to a local art gallery that ended up being closed for the day, so we headed to DQ so I could get a Blizzard instead. Stick with what you know, right? We also checked out the Harbor some more, got more beer at Ray’s (why not??), and then spent time laying in our separate rooms with the windows open, the cool sea breeze blowing in, and read books for the afternoon. Later we went back to the beach where Ursula the sea hag had brought us back together and let Cash play, then got takeaway from a Thai place called Khun Tai.
It was a very relaxing day that rejuvenated us and got us ready for the days ahead that would see us getting back home.
*I’m giving her the benefit of the doubt so I don’t look like a total asshole, obviously.
**If you don’t know what this means, do you even text, bro?
***Finally, context for the title of these blog posts!
Until next time…
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