Bridges and Beaches

Mighty Subaru steers a course southwest from Portland to Lincoln City where I can finally see what all the fuss is about---the Oregon Coast.  Such an expanse of blue water and white surf!  I can smell thousands of unfamiliar scents waiting to be explored.  I can taste the briny-ness and the moisture of the ocean on my long dry tongue as I whip it around, lapping up all tastes rushing through the windows and swirling around the inside of the Subaru.  A sense of excitement arises in me standing my ruff hairs on end as we move closer to the sounds of the Ocean:  the crash of the surf on dark broody rocks, the squawking of a multitude of birds overhead, the whistle of the wind rising above surf sounds....ahhhh, the coast at last!  Bridge after bridge we creep closer to our stopping point.  She comments about the art deco remnants of bridges preserved from  the 1920s whose beauty was only surpassed by their structural unsoundness.  I quit counting them focusing more on the Ocean with great impatience.  

I wiggle anxiously expelling my 'pay-attention-to-me' ummph to get him and her to stop Subaru so I can take in these sights, sounds, and smells whizzing by.  But no!  They are destination-oriented--non-stop now until we reach where the 'Forest meets the Sea' the little hamlet of Waldport (she knows this by virtue of internetting; he knows this because he understands German---who knew this would come in handy on the Oregon Coast?).  We slow down letting Subaru navigate dunes moving across the narrow road to our week-long rental, perched atop a large dune where a 4-wheel drive and a bobcat are useful vehicles.  At last Subaru releases me from its confines and I jump out into the snaking sand running towards the Ocean that I've watched from a-distance for what seems forever!  Dry sand turns to wet sand which sticks to my nose filling my head with scent-memories that will last my lifetime.  The Ocean at last!  

Cold water refreshes my pads as I plunge headlong into water and shallow surf.  A quick lap of the black-blue water confirms that although wet and refreshing, it is to salty to drink.  I am reminded of my trip to the island of Vancouver, B.C. and the barnacle-lined rocks in bays where I paddled until tired....well, actually until my blood flowed from a 4-inch gash received while retrieving a stick tossed by him.  Not sure I've ever seen her back up as much as on that day as she wrapped bandages and tape around my injury.  Have I said before that she is very protective?  Later we all learned I should have been sown up.  But I digress. 

 

Sea water may be tasty for fish, seals, an

d pelicans but not for 4-leggeds and I gather, nor for 2-leggeds.  Trotting around the fringes of the water I feel invigorated and free, my angel-wing markings taking flight as I playfully chase gulls (she doesn't like me chasing any living entity for real) who squawk at me, flap their wings with annoyance, and head out to sea.  

This Salty Sea Dog has found his niche!