From Oregon

This is my first post to the blog in a while, but Becky keeps insisting that this is OUR blog, not just HER blog, so I'm supposed to contribute.


We took Jack to his eighth state in his eighth month of life. At this rate, by the time he's a little over 4, we'll have taken him to every corner of the Union. :) This trip was especially important, though, because this was his first trip to the Pacific Northwest. And as my godfather has noted, it's important for Jack to spend enough time in the Pacific Northwest so that he grows webbed feet. I should've known this was going to be a great weekend from the start when after arriving in Portland at 10pm on Thursday night and getting to the beach at midnight, the four of us non-infants stayed up another hour and a half chatting over tea and fresh fruit.

In true Cannon Beach fashion, Friday was cool and misty, so we stayed inside all day, which was great for two reasons. It gave us the opportunity for a fantastic afternoon nap, especially important after staying up so late the night before, and gave Jack the vital indoor floor-time necessary to undertake his first successful forward crawling. (Becky's editorial note: he was so perfect, up on all fours without and tummy dragging, making it look so natural, like he'd been doing it all along and we just hadn't been watching. And he hasn't done it since. It was like he said, okay, mastered that. What's next?) My dad capped off the day by cooking us a great dinner of freshly caught salmon, and we turned in early that night, worn out from all our lounging around.

Saturday was a big day. We woke to the sunniest morning I've ever seen at Cannon Beach, and after two breakfasts and a haircut (to reduce drag), we set off on our longest run to date. Retracing the farthest steps of Lewis and Clark, we ran from Cannon Beach to Seaside and back. As a kid, I had hiked this trail many times with my dad, and in the past had wondered what it would be like to run it. I don't think I'd ever really thought it would be possible to run it twice-- out and back. But that's what we did. And it turns out, it's really tough. At the turn-around (milepost 7.5ish?) we were both feeling pretty great. But on the return, things went downhill. Which is funny, because we were going mostly up. In retrospect, two breakfasts (even one involving eggs) wasn't enough to power us through Tilamook Head's ups and downs. Fortunately, my mom had encouraged us to take her small cellphone with us on the run, so we were able to call and ask my dad to pick us up at the state park entrance, three miles short of our goal of 18. Undaunted by what some might perceive as failure, we insisted my dad drop us off in downtown CB so we could get an ice cream cone as big as my head (Becky's note: he is not exaggerating even a little). That evening we celebrated with Jack's first beach bonfire barbeque. He was more interested in trying to put his mouth on the sand than anything else at dinner. It's nice to know that Jack didn't inherit his father's infantile fear of sand, beaches, and other large expanses of granular substances. But my mom and dad and Becky and I enjoyed roasted wieners, gentle evening breezes, and views of Haystack Rock with crashing breakers, and we all returned home smelling like campfire.

Sunday is where the weekend starts to elude me. I know Bex and I went for a great brunch in the morning while my parents stayed with Jack, but after that I'm not sure where the day went. I suspect a nap was involved. That's the sign of a good vacation.

The good weather continued through to Monday, when we went down for a walk along the beach to Haystack Rock. My parents enjoyed showing Jack off to everyone they knew in town, which, when your mom is on the city council, is a lot of people. :) We're so happy we could introduce Jack to my favorite vacation spot from when I was a kid, but there were peaches that needed selling back in California, so we packed up and headed back that afternoon. We're already looking forward to our next trip! Thanks Mom and Dad!