Once in a while I get this itch to go somewhere. Not in a week from that moment, not in a month, but right then. It seems completely irrational because I live in the greatest place ever – but I love the feeling of being on a highway, the sun going down and waking up somewhere completely new and undiscovered.
Or-somewhere familiar, and re-discovered. That works too.
When I used to live in Vancouver, weekend trips down the coast were more than accessible. A quick border crossing and you’re on the I-5, headed south to whatever spot on the coast you find appealing for that getaway.
In Whistler, we have to add two more hours of driving – and that’s if the traffic is good. But when I have the itch, the two hours may as well be two minutes… when escape is on my mind there is very little that can convince me it’s not worth doing.
So, with a little over 50 hours in total vacation time, we set off on a last minute weekend drive down the rainy Oregon coast. Whistler to Pacific City, Oregon.
Since Tasmania, I’ve been having major ocean withdrawals. I love my mountain paradise, but there is something so incredibly massive and majestic about the big blue ocean. To fully become immersed we rented longboards and despite the rain, had fun being pushed around by the waves.
Cute little coffee shops, American diner food and fresh scenery captivate my every move when I’m on a trip. The newness of a place is intriguing to no effect, and creates this burning stoke inside that there will never be a moment quite like the one I’m having right then.
Did you know – At Cape Kiwanda, you can drive up on the beach and just… hang. Cue fun music, laughter with friends and a bonfire cookout tailgate party. It’s a little slice of perfection – no matter the weather.
It was quick, but it was good. There’s something magical in that coastal sea-breeze – Something that fills my soul every single time.
In short, when you feel the itch – go. It’s better than regretting the experiences you’d never had if you didn’t.