I realized about a week before I left that I hadn't made it to the notoriously beautiful Oregon coastline. The day after this realization I woke up early and drove to it. I spent hours laying on the beach, which was practically empty this time of year, and walking in the surf to the infamous Haystack Rock.
Then I went to the nearby Ecola State Park. Here is my obligatory self portrait.
I made some rock sculptures.
And then went for a hike up the cliff and into the woods.
After the hike I sat on another cliff and ate some food and wrote about some stuff in my notebook.
Later on that day around dusk, I ran into a herd of Elk. I had never seen an Elk before, so I watched them for a little until they were frighteningly close to me.
After I got into bed that night I replayed the events of the day. I considered how different it would have all been if I had spent the ten hours with another person. I suppose it might have been nice to share it with a friend, and it could have made for an epic-ly romantic day were I with a man, or the right man, rather. Instead I was alone. I didn't have to wait for anyone to catch up during my hike(which is often the case due to my long legs and generally hurried movement), I could sit and stare at the same rock, elk, or tree for as long as I wanted, and I only had to worry about the timing of my own bathroom breaks. I decided in my half sleep that I preferred the solitude.
