Finally, we find a dive bar. Amidst all the breweries with their eight-dollar thick beers, upscale “bar food,” and revamped downtowns, the American icon dive bar is facing extinction. Nice to find a place where they open the doors before eleven o’clock in the morning, and the bartender sets up a round for regulars before they take a seat. We found one called “The Crow’s Nest” in Gold Beach, Oregon.

Here, you sit at the bar and look through a picture window at the ocean, while a cool breeze flows through the door.

Chat with local folks about whatever comes up. Grab the special of the day, in our case pizza, and bring it back to the campsite. You learn alot about the best places to eat, camp, and hang-out from the locals once the conversation starts.

As a result, we find a gem of a campsite at Lobster Creek National Forest Campground right on the roaring Rogue River.

Sit by the fire in the middle of old growth forest where all seven of the sites are large and private. Sites come with a cement picnic table and fire ring. Flushing toilets are down the road near the water spicket. No electricity or RV hook-ups equates to a quiet setting without the constant hum of generators.

Not sure you could call this primitive because we feast daily on delectable, fresh caught delights from the sea. From dungeness crab, halibut, halibut cheeks, Oregon bay shrimp, king salmon, and oysters roasted over the fire, to the obligatory camp bacon and eggs and hot dogs, we eat well.  So well, that we extend our camping stay to the fourteen consecutive night limit, a new record for us.

Civilization sits only ten miles away in the town of Gold Beach. There, we take long walks on the beach, work-out and shower at the gym, buy supplies at the store, and “catch” fish at the fresh seafood market.

Then we drive back to the $7.50 per night Mitchell Motel in the forest where we drink beer at our personal dive bar next to the fire, followed by fabulous sleeping in the pickup truck breathing the crisp, cool air all night long. The Oregon coast looks like the only area in the USA that has cool temperatures, according to weather maps.

Yes, I try a few days of fishing. I am familiar with combat fishing from some places on the river shores in Alaska. Here, where the Rogue River meets the ocean, combat comes with anglers in fishing boats. Hordes of them. The only thing I caught (with a trophy cast) was a trolling fisherman’s line. Thank goodness for the seafood store.

Once I get tired of fishing instead of catching, Marilynn takes me on some refreshing hikes through old growth forest filled with Myrtle, Spruce, Fir and Cedar trees. Then we hike along the Pacific Ocean. She is a hiking animal, and I can barely keep up.

A couple weeks of this, and we’re ready for some of those breweries with eight-dollar thick beers, upscale menus, and different faces in the crowd. Yes, next stop will be in downtown Portland. We saved enough cash for some well-earned luxury.

Thank you, Abundant Universe!

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