If you brought a swimsuit to the Oregon Coast, don’t worry, someone will loan you a sweater.
People don’t come to the Oregon Coast to work on their tans. You won’t see many bikinis on Cape Blanco or folks sitting idly with a book next to the Devil’s Punchbowl.
We don’t even call it “the beach.” We don’t come here seeking the sun. Sure, you might see it peeking through the old growth of Oswald West. But as soon as you hear the surf crashing into the cliffs, you stop paying attention to anything else.
That’s the moment you start to realize how big this all is. Troubles seem smaller and the little moments feel magnified. And as you splash in the tide pools, watch the whales, hunt for agates, explore lighthouses and wander all 363 miles of free and public coastline, you might be like, “I’m calling in sick tomorrow. I’m learning to surf.”
And someone will probably teach you, because Oregonians are just cool like that. Eventually you realize that your beach bod still looks pretty good under those layers of clothing.
Lots of places have a beach.
If you want to go to the Coast, you have to come to Oregon.