oregon

What happens when the beautiful is abandoned? Sometimes it’s demolished, and sometimes it decays beyond recognition. But if we’re lucky, sometimes just enough of the beauty remains for us to see why we thought it was beautiful in the first place.

We’d had good weather the previous two days, high clouds with frequent blue sky and sun peaking through, but then we drove south on Highway 101 from Newport, Oregon, that afternoon of the third day. Our luck ran out and we got the normal spring conditions, low clouds blocking our view of everything except rain on the windshield. We were due back in Eugene, fifty miles inland, that evening. It looked like this last part of our trip might be a bit of a bust. Still, our older son told us that he wanted to see at least one lighthouse as long as we were out here by the ocean, so we took a chance and turned off at the sign for the Heceta Head Lighthouse.

At the mention of the Oregon Trail, many young Americans will recall fording rivers, crossing plains, and being waylaid by dysentery or broken legs in a popular game played on flickering computer screens. The real Oregon Trail, used by many American pioneers during the westward migration from Missouri to Oregon during the mid-nineteenth century, was far more remarkable.

When California resident Chuck Samonsky decided to try Salt & Straw, a small-batch, handmade ice cream shop in Portland, Oregon, he got a little more than he bargained for—but in a good way.

If there’s one summer activity that everyone can agree on, that’s eating food. Pack your bags, spoons, plates, doggie bags, and appetite, and head for a food-filled road trip through the wonderful world of factories

For over 2,500 years, Mongolians have built yurts, transportable tent-like structures made of wood lattice and heavy felt, to protect themselves from the icy blasts of their native steppes. Today in America, yurts are a wonderful, yet little-known, camping amenity provided at many of the country’s state and national parks.