In the beginning, there was snow.
And the snow begat snowplows, snowblowers,
snow shovelers and very large pick-up
trucks with blades. And the snowplows,
snowblowers, snow shovelers and
very large pick-up trucks
with blades begat snow berms.
And the snow berms begat -- BERMTOPIA.
Sunday, February 8, 2015
Bermtopia by the Sea: The 36-Hour Edition
One of the many advantages of being retired is the ability to pick up at a moment's notice for an adventure.
Well, not exactly a moment's notice. . . finding a Ben-friendly hotel in Cannon Beach proved somewhat vexing for my date. And took a couple days. Largely because when the website of said hotel said it was pet-friendly. But wasn't.
But that's neither here nor there. We found The Guest House Inn and took off with Ben Wednesday for an overnight at the beach, or as Ben calls it, The Place of Noisy Water.
Ben: Sweet. But I won't get my paws wet.
Although Arch Cape is our go-to coastal sweet spot, we landed in Cannon Beach because of the plethora (or so we thought) of dog-friendly hotels that will book one night with you. Of course, it helps it's February -- the lowest of the low season on the Oregon coast -- and the middle of the week. We packed for a windy, wet overnight trip -- and were rewarded with balmy shirt-sleeve (well, long-sleeve/sweatshirt) weather.
Fat Bastard and I are having such a time of it, figuring out these mild climes.
Upon arrival, we beat feet to Ecola Seafoods for clam chowder. My date ordered the bread bowl and promptly sent a cell phone pic to the Number Two Son. Simply to torture him.
I ordered a side of pickled herring. Simply to torture my date.
Then on to the Cottage at the Guest House Inn. Just steps from the beach, it's a tidy little place, fully equipped with a serviceable kitchenette, electric fireplace and -- ahem -- the biggest jacuzzi tub I have ever seen.
In the living room.
Use your imagination.
*sound of crickets*
On to the beach. You know it's going to be a good walk when this is the first thing you encounter:
Don't tell Ben, but I have an inexplicable obsession with pugs.
This 14-week-old puppy cemented it.
The rest of our walks over the next 36 hours did not disappoint either. Especially a chance encounter with a South Korean choral group who took approximately 8 zillion selfies with Ben. A sweet soprano's voice guided us home Wednesday afternoon.