I went to bed hoping for something other than a thick blanket of fog, and I have to say, when I woke up I wasn’t sure if I was going to get it. My hotel was on the water, down by the fishing vessels, and everything was shrouded in mist when I looked out the window. I dawdled, drank coffee, and settled on an itinerary for the day, beginning with a repeat trip to Chetco Point. I was still hopeful the morning might provide some redemption.
As I drove out there, I felt like I might just get it.
These vibrant colors bear no resemblance to the foreboding landscape of the day before.
The light was amazing in the direction of the sunrise, but it was also incredibly bright, creating glare on the water, and making photography a challenge. There was an older gentleman out there with me, taking pictures on his phone, and we talked about how nice this morning was compared to he pea soup we had the day before. However, my joy at getting light and clouds quickly began to fade as the sun started to burn off the clouds, and the forecast told me I was in for a day of clear blue skies and temps into the 70s. On the Oregon coast! In October!
I knew I had limited time before the sun rendered everything full of contrast and impossible highlights. I made a quick stop at Harris Beach State Park, which was lovely but largely fell into the “rocks in water” category of places that are interesting in person but underwhelming in pictures.
I hurried on to Lone Ranch Beach, hoping to get in a short hike or two before the heat set in. You see, I had packed for “dreary fall Oregon weather” and was completely unprepared for the “lovely summer Oregon weather” facing me. I had layers and long sleeves and hats and scarves, but what I didn’t have was shorts or tank tops.
The last of the clouds.
Additionally, the AllTrails map was confused, and I ended up taking many wrong paths up some very steep hills, scrambling over rocks while trying to avoid the incoming tide, and wondering what I did wrong in a previous lifetime for the temperature to be closing in on 65F well before noon. I finally made it to the top of the ridge, where sun sent streams of light and shadow down towards the water, and I found a tiny bit of cloud!
Now, if you’re a photographer, you get it. If you’re a normal person, you’re probably wondering why I’m talking about clouds so much (Warning: it will get worse in future blog posts!). Without any interest in the sky, it’s just dull and flat, which makes all the landscape below it feel unbalanced. Your eye ends up stuck in one part of the image, rather than moving around the way it should. Yes, there are ways of still making the photograph feel dynamic through creative framing and other stylistic choices, but clouds are a natural element that just make everything so much easier and prettier.
I had no cell signal in this part of the road, so my plans about where to go next were based entirely on seeing a sign along the road and navigating on instinct. I was looking for a particular trail, drove way too far (still no cell signal!), turned around and drove back, STILL couldn’t find it, and decided that Thomas Creek Bridge seemed like it might be a good for a view or two.
It wasn’t, but it did have some amazing dark woods, and that’s just as good.
What a difference a bit of light makes. These pictures were taken less than a mile apart, in the same patch of forest.
Eventually I caught a glimmer of cell signal and mapped my way to Whaleshead Beach. I had managed to get through the bulk of the day by now, and the sun was no longer scorching everything in sight. The stillness of the tide pools made for some interesting compositions, and this nice couple decided to stand in exactly the right place for me to show the scale of the rocks.
However, the bucket list destination of this trip was always Secret Beach.
I knew I was still most likely looking at blue skies for sunset, but the weather wasn’t going to be any more cooperative the following night, so I made my way to the trailhead and snagged the last parking spot that wouldn’t have risked damage to my rental car.
Listen, I know people will turn up their noses at certain destinations because everyone knows about them and they’ve been photographed to death. I get it. But sometimes… sometimes those places are well known for a damn good reason.
That’s not photoshop or filters, that’s sunlight and water and pure luck.
There were a lot of people on the beach, and the tide was quite high, cutting off the other half. If you peeked between two barnacle-covered rocks, you could make out some very neat things on the other side, but the options were to squeeze between those rocks, or scramble up some other very steep rocks to the side. I opted for the squeeze, and when I tell you that I baaaarely fit without tearing my clothing, I am not exaggerating. However, the other side? Worth it.
Yes, those are people for scale.
Anyone that knows me at all knows I am not a patient person. There’s a reason I don’t shoot with a tripod. I’m rarely in one place for longer than a minute, and that’s only if it’s really interesting. I have to say though, this was one of those rare times when I really wished I had one handy. The sun was hitting the waves and lighting them up as they rolled into shore. I was balanced precariously on barnacle-covered rocks, having to watch for rogue waves that would soak my shoes while also watching for the incoming waves and minding the water patterns in the foreground. While handholding the shot. I must have taken at least a dozen shots, but I think this one shows both the light and the dynamic movement of the water.
These two images were taken not that far apart, but facing in different directions.
By this point, I had decided to stick around for sunset, even though that would mean staying in the same place for over an hour, requiring a truly remarkable feat of patience. I knew I wasn’t going to find a better location, nor was the sky going to magically sprout clouds if I drove 20 minutes in another direction. Most of the other people were starting to pack up their families and scramble back up the trail to their cars, leaving only a handful of other photographers on the beach.
A few of them came up to me and we talked briefly about where we’d been and where we were heading, but like so many photographers, I suspect we were all introverts, and settled quickly back into a comfortable silence, even as we stood within 10 feet of each other. They all had tripods. Just saying.
Once the sun got close to the horizon, it started to sink pretty quickly, creating pockets of deep blue shadow.
I left Secret Beach feeling as though I got the experience I’d been after, even if the conditions weren’t perfect. One of the photographers I talked to said they’d been there the night before, during the intense pea soup fog, and man, that would have been cool! It won’t be my last visit to this place, that’s for certain.
