Storm Watching on the Long Beach Peninsula
By Crai S. Bower
“Great joy in camp, Ocian [sic] in view.” —William Clark
Waves curl sideways against each other below a slate sky. Dune grasses bend and an ocean mist rises like steam from our tea. Witnessing storms roll into the Northwest feels ineluctable this winter as El Niño throws incessant tantrums. Yet, watching storms from the cozy confines of a beachfront condo provides a welcomed, and romantic, lull to any schedule.
What better place to do just that than Washington’s very own Long Beach Peninsula? In the summer, this kitschy beach town offers saltwater taffy, boardwalks, tacky T-shirts and “The World’s Longest Beach.” You can even find “Jack the Alligator Man.”
During winter, kitsch is traded in for quiet
Just over two centuries ago on December 3, 1805, the peninsula’s southern end was the terminus of Lewis and Clark’s cross-continental journey. Upon arrival, William Clark wandered alone up the beach for several days to contemplate the significance of his sojourn.
Our winter arrival conjures similar connotations: The streets are all but abandoned and the beach is vacant for miles. While not exactly alone (you’ll need dinner reservations on weekends), a whisper falls over the 28-mile peninsula, like a college campus during spring break. And oh how the storms do blow. When the December winds shoved Seattle around at 50 mph, the gales whipping over Long Beach topped out at one hundred.
The Lighthouse Oceanfront Resort offers the perfect perch for viewing the weather. Every condominium has vistas of soft dunes, beach and sea. Inside, the fireplace burns and our tea water boils. Outside, the setting sun mixes new paints across the sky—swaths of purples and reds.
After the sunset, we brave the storm and trek to The Depot in nearby Seaview offering a full menu of French Bistro fare and fourteen wines by the glass. We choose a seat in the kid-friendly bar for Burger Night, a local tradition. “It lightens up the middle of the week in winter,” offers The Depot’s owner-chef, Michael Lalewicz. Even in the dead of winter, the Depot buzzes like an A-Train platform.
A lull in the storm
The next morning, the weather lightens, too. We awaken to blue sky, seize the moment and stroll the beach. The culinary discovery of the trip is made in tiny Nahcotta, a small town located in the middle of the peninsula. Bailey’s Bakery and Café is discreetly situated beside the post office. The shingle dangles and wainscot walls feature local artists. Fresh black bean soup and grilled sandwiches, crafted by Ms. Bailey herself, complete the fantasy, where even the self-service water arrives via tasteful pitcher located in a historical cold locker.
Sated with incredible mint chocolate cookies, we travel seven miles north into Leadbetter Point State Park to hike from Willapa Bay to the Pacific, a mere 1.4 miles. Salt marshes transition to old growth cedar groves as juncos dart through the understory and a varied thrush calls.
Leadbetter Point offers solitude as the “unexplored” end of the peninsula, and even popular Cape Disappointment to the south affords plenty of sightlines in the heart of winter.
Within Cape Disappointment State Park, the new Lewis and Clark Interpretive Center, set spectacularly atop the bluff, and Maya Lin’s Confluence Fish Cleaning Station remain dividends from 2005’s bicentennial celebration of the explorers’ arrival. The sunset we spy from North Head Lighthouse rotates the color wheel through yellows, reds and blues so deep, I expect to spot the night’s first star within the hue.
A day set against brisk wind calls for rich dinner fare; the 42nd Street Café answers. Crab beignets melt away, washed down with Full Sail Amber Ale. My robust chop bullies the boiled baby potatoes and squash purée to the edge of the large plate. I manage room for fresh blackberry crisp and depart, ready for one more game of Scrabble, as the winds reconvene at the windowpane.
Next morning, our excursion to the shore complete, I pack the car and begin the three-plus-hour drive back to Seattle. Though our condo had a television, I never thought to turn it on. I didn’t want to offend the real reality show, which continues to perform in the fleeting distance, sending dazzling spray skyward.
Crai S. Bower spends plenty of time in downtown Seattle and Vancouver, reviewing restaurants and hotels. ‘Escape the Pace’ provides him with the opportunity to ‘turn off (the road) and ‘tune out’ (the world).
