The Travelling Cryptographer

Wandering downtown, we found a bookstore that was, unfortunately, closed.

 

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Pioneer Courthouse,

which is across the street from Pioneer Courthouse Square. Apparently the grand hotel that was there was torn down in the ’50s to be replaced by a parking lot. In the ’70s, the block was reclaimed as a public space. The gate is apparently from the original hotel.

 

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Old glass, turned purple by the sun! I bet it turned purple more quickly than its counterpart in Seattle …

 

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A church. The inscription on the building across the way reads “Do unto others as you would they should do unto you.”

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Pittock mansion, built in 1909. One of my favorite rooms, the kitchen.

An appropriate view from which to cook.

Speaking of cooks.

A good ceiling for daydreaming in the “Turkish smoking room.”

If you dined here you’d have the necessities.

And if you bathed here you’d have a fancy shower contraption circa 1909.

Not to mention the rest of the washroom.

I really could get used to the view. On a clear day the view of the city with Mount Hood in the backdrop must be fantastic.

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Sauvie Island. A bit out of the way if you’re visiting Portland, but quiet, pretty, and I found a nice dry camping spot,

with abundant blackberries.

 

And there were farms down the road with blueberry picking, which is of course more fun when other people do the work for you.

 

Especially transit.

 

She didn’t discover how delicious the berries were until she got home.

 

 

A successful alley dock from the right; no spotter.

My view of the ocean while BBQing.

… and dinner.

 

Followed by a walk to see the sunset and sea lions at Seal Rock.

At least I’m told they were sea lions.

 

And then there was minus tide.
I woke up early for this.

I failed to find anything I’d been told to look for, but at least there was the view.

Another day, another lighthouse. Another claim to being the most westerly.

 

Only this one lost that distinction after advances in geolocation. I’m told Cape Flaherty lighthouse wins by 5 inches. So now they emphasize that Cape Blanco is the oldest and most westerly in Oregon.

 

Another Fresnel lens,

made in France, as most were.

 

The walk is not complete without an encounter with poison oak.

But at least the view is nice.

I thought I might blow away,

so after eating fresh fish at the old cannery, I walked some more.

 

Cows always make me feel at home.

At least, they smell like home.

 

Aside from the lovely farmland,

Ferndale is quaint.

 

There are lots of Victorian buildings

and even a homey post office.

(As well as other public services.)

 

The food is passable,

and comes with “old time camaraderie”, at least according to the Native Sons of the Golden West and its Grand President.

How far “westernly” you are is apparently very important.

 

“Next door to Willits, two towns that sound like diseases you don’t want.”

Where the community mostly preserved its downtown, but lost its post office.

 

I’m not sure what happened to its mural.

But the once-public building sits vacant and for sale, mostly hidden behind a cheap green fence. Replaced by …