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Florence, Oregon: Siuslaw River and Heceta Lighthouse
Stained glass pinwheels and flowers outside shopkeeper’s in Florence, Oregon
One of the tourist books at our resort in Yachats mentioned a restaurant for foodies in Florence, Oregon, that no longer exists, as we discovered when we went on a hunt for it. The day was gloriously beautiful, with warm sunshine wrapping her rays around my shoulders, making the weather comfortable enough to remove my jacket and tie its sleeves around my waist. After wandering the gift shops to pick up gifts for my hard-working Elizabeth Weintraub team members back in Sacramento, we set out to find a place for lunch.
I asked one of the shopkeepers about the restaurant, which is when I received a long explanation about who used to own it, who sold it to whom and why it’s closed now, none of which was putting any food into my stomach, and ended with the shopkeeper saying, “But this is a small town and I just keep to myself.” The pace in Florence, Oregon, is much more laid-back and relaxed but not quite as slow as say, Hawaii, or Mexico. Probably because they kinda like visitors and don’t necessarily view your presence as an intrusion into their privacy.
Banks of the Suislaw River Bridge in Florence, Oregon
We tried the Spice Restaurant, known for its creative presentation of seafood and steaks, but it was closed, which accounts for the fact the door would not open regardless of how hard I tugged. No problem, there are many restaurants and cafes in Old Town Florence, and the day was still young. We were not pressed for time like we were the other day when I was forced to eat a grocery store hamburger that had been warmed up in the microwave for lunch.
There are two large seafood restaurants next to each other on the Siuslaw River: Mo’s, whose sign looks like MG than MO and immediately made me think of Booker T and the MGs and about which we had been warned about all the deep-fried stuff, and the International C-Food Restaurant, which is called ICM and features only wild-caught seafood. It seems that the tourist favorite no matter where we go is battered and deep-fried fish, accompanied by French fries: fish and chips. This restaurant was no exception, either, so I opted for a salad topped by wild Mexican shrimp.
“Oh, I don’t know if we can do that,” our waitress said, looking very concerned, almost distraught. I pointed to the menu where it featured a shrimp cocktail and then to the salad, explaining that they could simply combine the two and leave out the cocktail sauce. After lunch, we sauntered over to BJ’s ice cream parlor. It’s probably named after somebody like Bobby Jean and not what you otherwise might think. Then again, it IS ice cream served in a cake cone. And yummy salted caramel at that.
Heceta Lighthouse from Highway 101 near Florence, Oregon
I felt like we had only one option at that point. To curl up under a tree and take a nap. But my husband had more energetic ambitions. Plus, he was the one driving us back to Yachats, and we still needed to visit the Heceta Lighthouse. This still-working lighthouse was hauled up the hill in parts, some 205 feet above the ocean, sometime in the late 1800s. It features, like many, the Fresnel lens, which beams light 21 miles out to sea.
Hemet Lighthouse on site has been restored
We poked around the lighthouse house, but it was locked and we could not enter. At one time there used to be two houses on this lot, and the cement steps, created to allow easy access for getting up on your horse, still remain. I looked in the window because I can’t help myself. I love older houses, especially the vintage homes I sell in the central core of Sacramento with a sense of history. The buildings speak and can transport you back in time. The floor was wood, covered with an ornamental rug in the living room, and the dining area featured an antique table with a lace tablecloth.
In the photo below, you can view the lighthouse in the distance from the front porch and also see the ocean through the trees.
Hemet Lighthouse Keepers front porch
Road Signs and Elk on The Oregon Coast
A Bengal cat in Florence, Oregon, stares at her nemesis, a dog along the Siuslaw Riverbank.
A little unnerving are some of the road signs in Oregon. Some of them contain only one word. Which is OK, I suppose, because you don’t really need a lot of words to explain yourself if one word will do; however, I can’t help feeling it’s like using the F-word without the You: alone, the emphasis remains but without its companion pairing, it’s meaningfulness and impact seems to wane. Not to mention, it can leave you a little confused as to its actual intent. Somebody could be upset, for example, but why. When you add the “you” to the F-word, well, it becomes crystal clear what the problem is.
One of the signs that seems ubiquitous on the Oregon Coast is the one-word sign: ELK. Now, that raises all kinds of questions. You might say to yourself, does that mean one elk or a whole bunch of them? Will they be in the road or are you supposed to enjoy the view of elk in the distance? Is this another roadside attraction? Another one-word sign is ROCKS. It’s like the guys at the Oregon Transportation Department are people of brevity. At least the word is plural. Perhaps it is meant to build awareness of one’s surroundings? As my husband pointed out, at least it’s not Elk Throwing Rocks. Or is it?
Which brings me to thoughts of that elk head that is sitting in my family room on our floor, horns splayed into the view of our television screen. It’s a real elk with 5 points on a shoulder mount, and it’s in excellent condition. I first spotted him on a wall at my seller’s house in Winters. She shot Elkie herself and then had him stuffed, attached to a board in the shape of a crest and hung him in the living room of a house she bought for her dad. I’m not really a big fan of stuffed animal heads on the walls, but since I’ve been selling a few homes lately that have these prized possessions on display, I’ve become more tolerant and intrigued by them. My mother would roll over in her grave. My younger self would join her.
When my seller said her next-door neighbor had offered her $700 for Elkie, I couldn’t ignore my competitive nature; I offered her $500 if she’d let me take Elkie home. I couldn’t help it. Besides, the elk head was too big to fit into her car, and her new home in Coos Bay, Oregon, was not large enough to offer a space on the wall anywhere to accommodate him. On top of all of this, it’s not like we could call him a fixture and just leave him there. For real estate sale purposes, it would be better for Elkie to go live somewhere else. That somewhere else, I decided, against all signs of logic, was in my home.
After much pleading with my husband, he finally acquiesced and agreed Elkie could come live with us as long as she didn’t live over the sofa. Her long neck would separate us from each other and make it difficult to pass the remote or receive a foot massage while watching TV, anyway. Getting Elkie to my house proved to be more difficult than I had imagined.
Elkie would not fit in my car, not even with the top down. My team member, Dianne, tried to squeeze him into her SUV, but his horns almost punctured her stereo speakers, and after much twisting and turning, she gave up. Then, my other team member, Josh, offered to bring Elkie home. This involved a 90-minute drive all the way to Winters and back to my home in Land Park, but he was successful, and that’s how Elkie came to live on my family room floor. He is way too big to even try to hang over our sofa, which is out of the question anyhow.
There is no spot in my house for Elkie. We can’t even hang him from the ceiling, which I had considered, like that goofy movie theater restaurant and lounge in Lodi. I asked my seller if she could put an ad on Craig’s List or eBay to sell Elkie, which is when she pointed out to me that it is against the law in California to sell an elk head. You learn something new every day, don’t you?
Fortunately, my husband came up with a good idea. Perhaps an Elk’s Lodge would like a donation, and then I could send the tax deductible receipt to my seller, which she could use to reduce her tax liability next year. I called a bunch of Elk Lodges and left messages. Then, yesterday, as we cruised into the town of Florence, a CEO from one of them called back to say yes, the Sacramento Elk Lodge would be delighted to give Elkie a new home. We are driving down from our vacation resort in Yachats to Coos Bay today to visit with Elkie’s previous owner. Her home in Winters is closing in two days. This gives us several things to celebrate.
Photo: Bengal cat, Adam Weintraub
