Cannon Beach must be absolutely mobbed in season, but when it's so rainy there's barely any point in taking out your camera, only the hardiest types show up and slog from coffeehouse to brew pub to Haystack Rock.
Ecola State Park had so many roads and paths washed out that admission was free, not that there was a lot of demand for walking in the sideways rain and blustery wind, but it was fun to be there, creeping around the misty paths under giant dripping ferns and swaying evergreens. Every tree was being slowly overtaken by bright green moss and the ground was carpeted with the thickest leaf litter I've seen since I stood in the jungle in Costa Rica.
I stayed in a small motel close to the beach. After battling around Ecola I spent a couple of hours reading, but suddenly realized that it seemed brighter in my room, though it was near dinner time. I looked out and noticed that the sun had come out, perfect timing for a walk down to Haystack Rock.
The sun brought people out of the woodwork and spilling onto the beach from all directions. They were wide-eyed and smiling, stopping to talk to strangers and friends, gasping about how "AMAZING IT ALL IS" and then staggering along, bathing in the light. The rock is pretty spectacular, but the sun was the main show for most of the locals.
I wandered for an hour, taking far too many shots of the rock, the sunset, and the waves. When it got chilly I headed back to my room and heated up some soup, then plotted my route to Portland.
In the morning the sun was still going strong. I ate breakfast at The Wayfarer, recommended by my friend Cliff, who had been the Executive Chef 17 years prior. The Wayfarer is the only restaurant with a view of Haystack Rock, which was gorgeous in the bright sun. After some of the most delicious Eggs Benedict I've ever had, I hopped in the car and headed southeast through Clatsop State Forest toward Portland and a new house sit.