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It was a typical early summer day in Oregon, warm and sunny when we left Portland, cool and foggy when we arrived at the Oregon Coast. Eventually, the fog burned off and the day was intermittently cloudy and sunny. Our route took us through the small town of Tillamook, but our visit to the town’s namesake Cheese Factory would have to wait until after we toured the Three Capes Scenic Route.

Our first stop was at Bayocean Peninsula—really a sand spit—that protects Tillamook Bay from the tumults of the Pacific Ocean. Tillamook is a word from the Coast Salish language group that translates as “land of many waters”—quite possibly in reference to the five rivers that empty into the bay. All of the rivers are fairly short in length with none exceeding 20 miles. Four of them, the Kilchis, Wilson, Trask, and Tillamook feed into the southern part of the bay while the Miami River flows into the northern end.

The Bay and the ocean both looked fairly calm that day, the most action was from a flock of terns that were searching for food in the shallows. Every so often one would stop in mid-air and dive straight down into the water with a loud splash. Of the dozens of dives we watched, only one tern came up empty-billed, as it were. A nearby beach yielded some pretty, polished pieces of agate and a few shells. Most appealing were the flowering Beach Peas that covered the sand above the high tide line. So cheery!

As we continued south our scenic route became more and more rustic, or “rusticker and rusticker” as our friend Rich would say. It was a good thing no one else was on the road that day since we had to drive on the wrong side of the road several times to avoid huge potholes, fallen limbs, and heave-ups. The road did provide us with a great view over the bay and up the coast. A few miles south, we pulled into the Cape Meares State Scenic Viewpoint.

The headland is a little over 200 feet above the ocean and at the end of the point sits a squat—yet at one time powerful—light, the Cape Meares Lighthouse. It is immediately apparent why a lighthouse would have been crucial along that stretch of coast; offshore rocks and sea stacks are scattered around the point. Built in 1890 the lighthouse was named after John Meares, a British explorer and opportunist. Although other words come to mind: exaggerator, prevaricator, fabricator, liar, and scoundrel—but enough about him. Though the first order Fresnel lens was deactivated in 1963, the scenic lighthouse is still maintained in working order.

Interestingly, the rocks that proved treacherous for early sailors are now more famous for the life that they support than the lives that they took. Scattered on the rocks, sea stacks, and cliff ledges are the nests of gulls, Bald Eagles, Peregrine Falcons, several species of cormorants, Pigeon Guillemots, and Common Murres. We scanned the closest sea stack hoping to see Tufted Puffins, but excepting a few gulls, every bird on the rock was a Common Murre. It is one of the largest Common Murre loomeries in North America. Oh, cool Murre fact, their eggs are pear shaped, with one end much narrower than the other. That way if an egg is dislodged, it will roll in a circle and hopefully not off the top of the rock.

The Three Cape Scenic Route continued south to Cape Lookout and Cape Kiwanda but we turned inland and headed for the Cheese Factory. The Tillamook County Creamery Association is a dairy co-op that was founded in 1909. Today the co-op has 150 dairy farmers, all of whom have pledged to not use BGH (bovine growth hormone). They are reknowned for their sharp cheddar, and their ice cream is quite tasty. The Visitor Center has two floors, the top floor features windows that offer a peek into the cheese-making process. The top floor also has a scoop shop stocked with all their current flavors. We tried a scoop of their Oregon Blackberry—scrumptious!

On the lower floor, interpretive signs line the hallway leading to the cheese samples. If the line hadn’t been so long I would definitely have gone back for another taste of their extra sharp white cheddar, it was so tangy. In a stroke of marketing brilliance, the sample line ends in their huge cheese and gift shop. Almost anything made in Oregon is available there. Tillamook even has a fudge shop and a small dining room. Though it wasn’t time for us to eat, we passed by a table with a serving of macaroni and cheese that looked delicious. Oh, I know, it’s not gourmet food, but there is something about mac-n-cheese that I just love. Strange but true.

Leaving the Cheese Factory we rounded the northern end of Tillamook Bay. The first American in the area was Captain Robert Gray who landed in August of 1788. His stay lasted only a week; he left after a hostile encounter with natives that cost him a crew member. Gray was a Rhode Island sea captain on a fur-trading voyage funded by Charles Bulfinch and other wealthy Boston merchants. After Gray filled his ship Columbia Rediviva with furs, he sailed to China, traded the pelts for large amounts of tea, and sailed back to Boston. In 1790 the Columbia Rediviva was the first American ship to circumnavigate the globe.

After his successful venture, Gray set sail for the Pacific Northwest again, arriving in 1791. As he was exploring along the coast in 1792, Gray discovered and named the mighty Columbia River. Not only did Gray discover the river, but he accomplished a feat that would torment thousands of ships in later years, he managed to sail his ship past the treacherous mouth. The entrance of the Columbia River is not only guarded by the constantly shifting Columbia Bar, but also the river’s strong flow. Stretching north to Vancouver Island and south along the Oregon coast but centered at the mouth of the Columbia River is the Graveyard of the Pacific, where hundreds of sailors have perished. Gray’s discovery of the Columbia River strengthened American claims to the area many years later.

The next Americans to navigate the Columbia River were the members of the Corps of Discovery in 1805. Led by Lewis and Clark, the expedition reached the mouth of the river near the modern day town of Seaside. Seaside sports an “End of the Trail” statue of the two leaders, and the expedition’s salt works have been located nearby. The men of the Corps struggled through a long and miserable winter by boiling salt from the ocean, hunting game, and trading with natives. On one such trading trip Clark and twelve members of the Corps trekked south along the coast to a small beach, enticed by the rumor of a beached whale. By the time they arrived, the whale had been reduced to bones by the native people who were busy rendering the blubber and cutting up the whale meat. The explorers bartered for some blubber and whale oil before returning to Fort Clatsop. The name of the beach commemorates the event, ecola is a native word for whale.

The small town just south also shared the name Ecola until 1846 when wreckage from a US Navy ship, the USS Shark, washed ashore. The Shark was attempting to cross the Columbia Bar and sail up the river when it crashed, yet another victim added to the Graveyard of the Pacific. The area is now named Cannon Beach after one of the cannons was discovered on the beach. Interestingly, the name is even more meaningful since on February 16th, 2008 two more cannons were found on the beach. A huge winter storm had washed away large quantities of sand and revealed the cannons. Though the find is still being studied, preliminary investigations seem to indicate that the cannons are a perfect match of the one found over 150 years ago.

Cannon Beach has another claim to fame: at the south end of the beach, just offshore, rises one of Oregon’s most photographed sea stacks, Haystack Rock. If you’ve seen a picture of the Oregon coast you’ve probably seen it. While I admit it is scenic, I can’t quite understand what all the fuss is about. More interesting to me, and also seen from the same area, is Terrible Tilly. Located on a rock a mile or so offshore, the Tillamook Rock Lighthouse first shone its beacon in 1881. The area’s dangerous currents and horrible weather made construction and operation of the light difficult; one of the builders lost his life during the process. Massive storms continually battered the lighthouse and threatened the lives of the keepers. The ocean often hurled rocks and debris through the glass windows of the light; in one particularly violent storm a 135-pound rock was thrown through the roof of the keepers’ quarters. Deactivated in 1957, Terrible Tilly is now privately owned and serves as a makeshift columbarium, a storehouse for cremains.

Our day meandering along the Oregon coast ended with a stroll on the beach in Seaside. Thankfully, Oregon had the foresight to protect all the beaches in the state as public domain. In 1967 the state passed a law that claims all the sand within 16’ of the low tide mark for public use and they also established an easement up to the vegetation line. It is reassuring to know that beach access is open and available to all, not just the wealthy few. Since we were beginning to lose sunlight, we turned off the Pacific Coast Scenic Highway, U.S. 101, and headed for home.

The road home took us over the Coast Range. A stretch of mountains not outstanding for their height—Marys Peak the highest in the range tops out at a mere 4,097’—but for their forested hillsides. At first glance the forest seemed unremarkable, the trees were roughly the same size, tall and green, and in many places we could see the scars left from clear-cutting. A rest stop gave us a new appreciation for the area. According to the interpretive signs, 355,000 acres burned in a series of fires called the Tillamook Burn. The first conflagration started in August of 1933, the next was in 1939, followed by one in 1945, and a final fire in 1951. All four of the fires were determined to be human caused, but the 1945 fire stands out because it may have been caused by a foreign country.

It was during World War II, and the U.S. and Japan were enemies. Starting in late 1944 and continuing into mid-1945, the Japanese military launched 9,000 incendiary-carrying balloons into the jet stream. The air currents, they hoped, would carry the bombs over the sea where they would explode upon impact. The Japanese strategists figured the fiery explosions would wreak havoc on American cities and forests, thus disrupting American life. Ridiculous as it may sound, the plan could have worked. Roughly 300 of the 1,000 “fire balloons” that are estimated to have survived the journey across the ocean have been found. Not surprisingly, all of the western states reported findings; what is surprising is that some of the Japanese handiwork had been found as far inland as Kansas and Michigan. Potentially, more of the balloons could be found since the most recent one was discovered in Alaska in 1992.

Just two months before purportedly igniting the third fire of the Tillamook Burn, an incendiary balloon caused the first and only fatalities. It was early May 1945, and a church group was out picnicking near Bly, Oregon. As a young girl tried to pull the balloon out of a tree it exploded, killing her and five others. At the time, the U.S. military wasn’t as worried about the balloons’ fire-starting capabilities as they were about the potential for the Japanese to fill the balloons with biological weapons. Thankfully, the Japanese scrapped their unsuccessful program in mid-1945.

Regardless of how the fire started, the combined fires of the Tillamook Burn wiped out huge swaths of old-growth forest. A massive reforestation effort took place in the 1950s, and one would have to look very carefully for evidence of the devastation. And that was the last surprise of our day.

Photos: View our photographs from the Oregon Coast: Cape Meares to Seaside.

Dates: We visited Tillamook, Cape Meares, and Seaside on June 15th, 2008.