Astoria Us

At some point months and months ago, I was searching for good beach camping in Oregon. As a random thought entered my head, I used that search to investigate real estate near a random beach in Oregon. Zillow remembered my investigation—as good cookie-using sites do—and has sent me listings for the town of Warrenton, Oregon ever since. Not knowing anything about the town but for the amazing listings I was updated with every few days, I looked forward to reaching that area eventually.

It would be a long wait to reach that point—it’s at the northwestern tip of the state—but it was well worth it. It could be

that my heart had gained a little familiarity with the town thanks to Zillow or it could be that I longed to get to Astoria, the sister city to Warrenton, but it became a welcome point on our travels—an inviting distant family member waiting with open arms—when we finally did arrive.

Warrenton is a little suburb of Astoria, a northern point to Seaside and Gearhardt, a beach and fishing community with some modern world amenities like Fred Meyer, Ross, and Costco. We stayed at an RV park on Alder Creek alongside fishing guides who venture to the area for salmon season, which was about to tilt into full swing. We settled in for ten days, knowing we wanted to get to know this area like we hadn’t taken the time to get to know any area to this point. After all, we hope to find a home—a place to settle our small family for a content life and a future.

We patronized the local shops and the larger Fred Meyer while we were there and witnessed the groundbreaking of the future WalMart, catty corner to Fred Meyer and destined to destroy the northwest chain’s healthy role in the community. We gassed up at Costco where there wasn’t a single other car in sight—we thought they were closed! We drove right by the local Starbucks, where not a single car was in the drive-thru lane and the parking lot was empty, and favored local small coffee shacks instead. We ate at a corner diner for breakfast one morning—cocktails and bar by night, family diner by morning. The tables were sticky and the décor was dated circa 1980—mauve and sage green colors with smudged brass fixtures. They had a kids’ menu, however, and the waitresses offered a warm and inviting smile and conversation. Local fishermen grouped at tables nearby, grumbling about the swells and gossiping about other fishermen who had bumped their boats at the dock or forgot to wave hello that morning.

Warrenton was seasonably sunny while we were there, admittedly a misrepresentation of the area, which gets 74 inches of rainfall annually. Warrenton offers, however, roomy property and a small-town sense of community with surrounding areas of interest to explore: the Lewis and Clark trail and the Fort Stevens 1906 Peter Iredale shipwreck locally; tourist destinations Seaside, Cannon Beach, and Ecola State Park to the south; Washington state to the north; and of course Astoria to the east.

Warrenton sits across a long bridge from Astoria, a quaint miniature San Francisco town famous for its 4.5 mile bridge across the Columbia River to Washington on the other side, the Astoria Column, and of course The Goonies. Probably because The Goonies rooted nostalgia for the hillside homes on the water and the gray, rainy attributes of the area, I had an ideal set in my mind for the town. It didn’t disappoint and was, of course, much more than The Goonies, though there is no shortage of celebration for its claim to fame in the area.

We dedicated one afternoon to doing all things tourist there. We ventured up to the neighborhood housing the actual “Goonies house” one day. No one actually see the house; it sits hidden from view around a corner up a private dirt road. Signs at the bottom of the dirt road make it explicitly clear that no one is welcome to drive or walk up the lane—“Police will be called!”.

Not really all that disappointed and still giggling at the sign posted, we explored the neighborhood only to find a school I had seen from the highway below. Just a few days earlier, I had dreamed up at the school perched on the hillside and its playground with a full panoramic view of the wide Columbia River and iconic bridge spanning the waterway. I pointed it out at the time and told Brent, “How cool would it be for Evelyn to go to that school someday?”

Well, here we were, marveling at the school from the street and then it occurred to me—hey, this school is familiar! Anyone else recognize it?

Yup, Kindergarten Cop! Well, at least we saw the other Hollywood claim to fame in Astoria!

We also parked in front of the old Astoria jail, which is now a movie museum, where sits the actual Fratelli Jeep

from The Goonies. We took our requisite photos with this movie star and recited lines from the movie: “ORV… bullet holes… bullet holes!” Evelyn had no idea why we wanted to take pictures with this old car, but she was a good sport and played with the kids in another family who had pulled up behind us to do the same, taking her turn to peer into the windows of the jail (closed for the day) and at the actual coat that the character Data wore in the movie.

All tourist requisites aside, we loved Astoria. I spent an afternoon exploring the downtown area with Kailyn one day while Brent and Evelyn drove to Washougal for the motocross race. I ate at a vegan lunch shack a block north of the downtown streets and a block south of City Hall and a historic, closed-down hotel. Then, I drove the hillside neighborhoods from north to south, front to back, and sent Brent pictures of a skate park and playground on the south side that we would have to take Evelyn to in the days to come.

While in the area, we crossed over from Warrenton to Astoria several times. The first night we were there, we ventured over the bridge to find a place for dinner. We parallel parked along the main street in the downtown area and found a modern Italian restaurant. Evelyn, her usual pleasant self, chatted it up with the two waitresses on closing duty. They loved her and spoke fondly of Astoria and Warrenton. One of them directed us toward lighthouses in the area that Evelyn should see.

We drove up to the Astoria Column, a structure mounted at the highest point on the peninsula. It commemorates Lewis & Clark and invites visitors to climb its spiral staircase to the top for a stunning view. We started up the climb, Evelyn and Brent ahead of me and Kailyn in the sling strapped to my chest. I was fine until about the half way point when I realized the stairs shook just a little bit, and though I could see where it was fastened to the concrete walls and reason flashed about in my head that thousands had climbed these stairs without them crumbling somehow below them, my legs froze up. I hardly recognized my voice when I told Brent, “I’m done! I’m going down!” I scarcely heard him reassuring me before he realized I was well out of reach to convince any further, then heard him return his attention to Evelyn who was asking why I had turned back.

From the bottom, I stood on terra firma with still shaky knees while Evelyn and Brent flapped their arms like chickens at

me: “Bok bok bok bok!!” They took great views from the top, and even from where I was standing I could hear Evelyn telling others up at the top with her that her mom had chickened out. What’s a scaredy-cat mom to do? As luck had it, there was a stuffed chicken for sale in the gift shop. Coincidence? I think not.

A few mornings later, I made an appointment to get Evelyn’s hair cut at Salon Boheme in the downtown area. As luck had it, the waitress who had told us about lighthouses a few nights before was there with her granddaughter, who was having her hair colored teal and purple much to her chagrin. Nervously and reluctantly supporting her grand daughter’s choice, she was happy to see us and was a friendly and familiar place in a notably small community. The staff at Salon Boheme was friendly and welcoming, as well. One of the stylists who appeared to be in on her day off with her 10 month old son, brought her baby over to see Kailyn and the two babies marveled at each other. I asked her where I could find cute baby hair bows since we had a family photo shoot scheduled a few days away, and though she didn’t know, she later used the contact number I had left when I made the appointment at the salon to text me that she had found some at both Ross and Fred Meyer, explaining exactly where in the stores they were displayed. How nice was that?

Evelyn left the salon sporting a new short ‘do, completing her choosing, and looking adorable! We walked the neighborhood a bit, looking for somewhere to grab a bite to eat and finding some real character on the streets—from a local homeless man sporting a retro motorcycle helmet, cut off belly t-shirt, and combat boots to a Pac Man bench and actual working telephone booth.

On our way back home to Warrenton, I spotted an espresso stand on the right side of the road. I spotted it as we were passing it, so I hung a right immediately, thinking it would take me into the parking lot housing the coffee I was craving. Instead, I realized too late we were actually getting on the 101 North, the entrance to the bridge crossing the Columbia River! With no way to turn back, I laughed to Evelyn that we had taken a heck of a wrong turn and we giggled as we gawked at the five solid minutes of driving across the water to the other side.

While across the river in Washington, we took pictures at the Dismal Nitch, an area where the Lewis and Clark Expedition was halted in its tracks for seven days in an epic northwestern storm. They were so close to the anticipated Pacific Ocean and couldn’t reach it; instead they were stuck starving and cold, their clothing weathering right off their bodies while they could do nothing more than wait for the storm to pass. I have to appreciate their eloquent and euphemistic choice of label. I would have had a touch more scorning name for the spot than “Dismal Nitch”, myself! We snapped some pictures there and then went west into Chinook to find a children’s consignment shop we had heard about from the stylists at Salon Boheme—well, since we’re over here, right? I found some cute hair bows and Evelyn painted a rock at the shop’s rock painting station, making the mistaken right turn a fruitful bounty, and we even found an excellent espresso stand on the way back to the bridge.

Later on during our stay in Warrenton, we ventured again over the bridge to Washington to see the two lighthouses at Cape Disappointment. That same day, we spotted whales spouting in river on both sides of the bridge back over to Astoria. People pulled haphazardly to the side of the road to snap their photos. Notably, when I got out of the car to snap my own, a lady next to me asked if I could see the whales. I assumed she couldn’t find them and was asking, so when I smiled that I had and pointed them out, she smiled back and told me she just wanted to make sure I knew where to look. If I did hashtags, I’d tag that moment #notincalifornia!

Our last day in the area, we finally made it the two miles from our campsite to Fort Stevens, a once active military base. It is there where the Peter Iredale shipwreck sits since beaching itself in 1906. Little is left of the ship after over 100 years of weathering on the shore, but it’s pretty neat to see and knowing that most of it sits beneath the sand—it is sitting at a slight angle with portions of metal jutting out of the sand like a quicksand victim clutching at the surface to stay above land—is a little bit eerie.

We were sad to leave the Astoria area, but there is still so much more to see. We still fantasize of the possibility of a future in Warrenton, though we shy from the very real presence of rain, rain, rain most of the year. Warrenton lies in wait of our possible return. For now, though, we’re on to the next!