Sur La Mer (our 31st Anniversary) Part 29: The Devil's Churn

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This is a spot worth seeing, and we felt emotions worth feeling.

There seem to be a surplus of places in wild area's like this named for the Devil. God may own the world, I guess, but the Devil's doing well enough to get naming rights to things. The Devil has a Punchbowl up near Otter Rock, and a Churn just south of Yachats.

Maybe that's where he gets his butter, who knows? 

But, in seriousness, what the Devil's Churn is, is a very very small inlet of the ocean. A very long time ago, the Pacific started worrying at a small crevice in the rocky shore. That crevice became a cave, which probably collapsed to form a crevasse, and in which the ocean's surf just kept working away at until it gets very narrow and very dramatic.

It is said that the incoming waves impacting the narrow end of the crevasse can send spray up hundreds of feet, but even if it isn't doing that, it's still impressive to watch. 

I can still hear the crashing of the water coming in.

This is a few minutes south of Yachats on US 101, though if you aren't familiar with the craggy shore, it might seem like forever. Leaving Yachats means the end of the friendly, flat and open shore of the central Coast and Lincoln County for the aggressively uncompromising crags of Cape Perpetua. This is USFS land, and is managed by the US Government. The wayside is comfortable and impressive, and offers this great view.

But you have to have a little bit of guts to drive that stretch of OCH. There's precious little shoulder on the seaward side, which drops straight away; this caused me to grip the door handle a little more firmly on the way down, the Brown Eyed Girl (in the pilot's seat) to be similarly wary on the way back, and both of us, I think, to respect the existential practicality of the average Oregon Coast resident, who countenances this sort of thing on a daily basis.

They always did seem to be the doughty sorts.

The wayside lets you get, to a degree, a bit up-close and personal with the business end of the Churn. It's most impressive and you get a sense of the power there.

It's not a thing to be taken lightly. One can go down there; there's nobody to stop you, but it's terribly easy to get yourself messed up permanently. Not long after we visited a vacationer from Walnut Creek, California decided to explore up toward the end of the chute and lost his life after slipping and falling because of a split second's inattention. Best to stay back and take pictures, I think. 

On a more cheerful level, this was something of a peak experience for the Brown Eyed Girl. She comes from a long line of women who have had a long operating love affair with the forces of nature at work, and the crashing of the surf into the end of the channel has always had a special allure for her. She could gaze at this particular place for hours, entranced by the natural power at work here and I, taking my cue from her reverence, began to listen for the heartbeat of nature here both aurally and visually. 

As a girl, she was beholden to the whims and plans of adults as to how she came here and how long they stayed. This day, she was in the pilots' seat, and she said when we came and when we went. I was along for the ride at this point, and that was fine with me, because she was sharing this dear and mighty thing that was so very special to her. The drive back north - this was as far south as we were destined to go on this visit - created a vivid memory, one I'll never forget, of a placid happiness that was quite unique. 

That of reaching out to grab something of great value, holding on to it until one is ready to let go, and not before, and not on anyone else's word. 

The day-use area, a bit of which is pictured here above, is well-kept and comfortable even if you're just stopping by for a short visit. There's an adjacent RV parking area which you can use overnight for dropping a small bit of cash into the collection box, which we did, because why not? The place gave us both a dear memory that'll last the rest of our collective lives, and that's worth something, and a few bucks to help the cause is a minuscule price to pay for that.

The experience and memory is something that one doesn't think they'll discover after more than 30 years as part of a couple: a new shared experience that lines up next to the mileposts that one passed when one was part of a new couple. 

It's part of how those who are lucky enough to grow aged keep a little bit of youth along for the ride. That's worth it.