Ass-toria... oh ass-toria!

Surely it is a wonder that Lewis and Clark lived as long as they did, given the travails of their historic journey. But here they came, to view for the first time as Americans, the great Pacific Ocean. I am camped not far from the trial they forged for Jefferson. Did I say trial? I did! I meant trail.

One man's trail is another man's trial, of this I am certain. And so here I am, in the mire of NW Oregon (pronounced ore-eh-gohn) known as Astoria. What is this mire, exactly? During this time of the year, it can be broken down into the following: gloom, fog, rain, moss, mushrooms, drizzle, muck, lichen and cold.

Yes, this is all true, but I have to say with all honesty, I love this damned town. Not just because there is a Rogue alehouse, which is the personification of the Pacific Northwest's identity as the microbrew progenitor, but because the Pacific Coast lurks only a few miles west from any point on the map. And with the Pacific Coast, you get such interesting entries into the photo journal as the following:

The "Peter Iredale" shipwreck on the coast of the Fort Stevens State Park.

The lone fisherman trying to get a steelhead at Coffenbury Lake.

The shore of Coffenbury Lake inside Fort Stevens State Park.

The bridge to Astoria says it all. The end of the world my friends, the end of the world. Or at least the end of Washington as we knew it.

I did NOT fall off the edge though. At the other side of this soup was a quaint little coastal town replete with booze, history, famous movie locales and black and white water fowl.

And I ended up at the Evil Astoria Rogue alehouse at the mercy of Amanda the Fierce and Jimmy from Escalante, UT. Here are some secret photos taken at risk of life and limb!

Lo' and behold mine fine friends! I neglect to mention that abutting the fine Rogue alehouse is one of the original Bumble Bee canneries. There is a COMPLETE museum with all the necessary goodies to prove its mettle. I found this out whilst trying to find a place to pee. The road to the loo was long and arduous indeed. For one, this ominous plaque scared off lesser men than myself!

It was posted along the route (via painted blue line through a cannery) to the pissoir! After relieving myself, I found these gems inside some rotting rooms. You could look through the floor and see the ocean below, no doubt. I did not take pictures of the ocean. They would be uneventful.

This dude was just sitting on a bench, presumably dead? :(

Here are some more pics of random shite.

Althea Harvey outside the Bumble Bee / Rogue pier 39.

This is my black bean/quinoa salad. Not shown is my yummy Rogue beer or the Dead Guy Whiskey shots I was impelled to take by Amanda the Fierce.

This was a check written to one of their Finnish workers to get him back home. It is an obvious copy and enlarged version, but back then a lot of their workers were such folks.

Here are some ducks that were just laying about for the taking. So I took... pictures of them!

Ahhh, well... the sneaky Rogue peoples sold me the barleywine for the road... luckily I am not ON the road. This stuff knocked me to next week... so I will have to sign off for the night, but I will leave you with a picture of the sun going down over the Columbia River. It is in B&W cause I forgot to change me settings on the camera.

Night all from the Great Northwest!