A spontaneous road trip to Oregon Coast
Waves raced towards us at a speed we could never outrun. They looked intimidating. Huge waves, rolling with a thunderous noise that abruptly ended in a crashing sound as they broke apart on the lonely rocks. We had never experienced the Pacific Ocean like this.
At the end of 2014, Tanja and I came to the conclusion that we hadn’t taken a single ‘personal’ vacation throughout the year! Sure, we saw amazing places throughout British Columbia, but every single one of those trips was work-related. And that in the year where we’d experienced our busiest wedding season so far, and had gone through a big life and business make-over with coaching and Fight Club (see our previous blog post). No wonder we felt exhausted!
In the last days of December, Tanja and I decided on a whim we needed to get away from it all, and follow our own advice: take a spontaneous road-trip without booking hotels in advance.
Our first stop: Portland, the city that kept popping up as a must-see. What do we remember of it? Great craft beer places, and one hell-of-an-awesome paleo food restaurant. You may be thinking ‘meh’, but for us it’s the holy grail we’re always looking for when road-tripping. So hello new stop whenever we’re driving South along the I-5. Other than that, Portland was… nice.
So on we went to the rugged, untamed beaches of the Oregon Coast. We didn’t have a clue what to expect, but oh wow. Just oh wow.
To experience the raw, unfiltered Pacific Ocean. To see those fierce waves race towards you, and hear the thunderous rolling and loud crashing felt magical. Something we’ll never experience at the shores of Vancouver, safely tucked away behind Vancouver Island.
On a grey, wet and cold Monday we arrived at the coast of Cape Kiwanda. It reflected how we felt. Exhausted, dull, empty.
The beach was deserted. It welcomed us. So we walked. Alone. For hours. Surrounded only by the loud thunder and crashing of the waves. We knew we’d find each other again. But we needed time first. To let our minds unfold. The price for running on empty for months on end.
In the next days, our moods changed in tandem with the weather. Drab, grey clouds made place for blue sky and sunshine, our lonely walks became spontaneous seagull chases, and we shared new ideas for our business over copious amounts of shrimp cocktail and seafood. Signs that we were healing.
On one of our last nights we went for a night-time beach-walk. Under an (almost) full moon, all we could hear was a soft rushing of the ocean. It felt magical.
