Oregon Blue, Straight Outta Brookings

Voter Registration, State of Oregon, 2017

By Douglas V. Gibbs
Author, Speaker, Instructor, Radio Host

When my father passed away in 1999 he left me some property in Brookings, Oregon.  We used to make a trip up to house and 80 acres one to two times a year.  However, as time has passed, work hours have increased, and affordability has decreased, so it's been a few years since we've been up here.

With some personal business calling us, and the need for the therapy of a vacation, my wife and I decided this week would be the week we'd make our return.

I have been talking for years about the possibility of moving to Oregon from California.  People try to coach me back from the ledge, constantly, arguing that Oregon is also very liberal.  Compared to California, the progressive madness in Oregon is not as bad, though the liberal left has been gaining strength and has a firm foothold in places like Coos Bay, the northwest corner of the State, Portland and its suburbs, and the college towns along the I-5 corridor.  Unfortunately, the population centers, as in any State, controls which party has the majority in the State legislature - making Oregon a firm blue marker on any election map.

Don't worry, those of you, who attend my constitution classes, enjoy my public speaking, and are attached to the Constitution Association, I am not leaving Southern California for the peace and serenity of the Oregon Coast any time soon.

While Oregon is liberal, one thing is for sure, these liberals love their guns . . . for now.

In fact, in the mid-term election of 2014, Oregon voters stood against liberal left policies on the immigration issue by overwhelmingly voting to cancel a new State law that would have allowed driver's licenses to people who are in the United States illegally.

Immigration is a losing issue for the Democrats, and that is one of the reasons Donald J. Trump vaulted into the presidency during the 2016 election.

The importance of controlling the invasion of illegal aliens is a big deal in Oregon, as well.  In 2014, The State law in Oregon giving driver's licenses to illegal aliens seemed popular on the surface, and the drive to gather enough signatures to put the repeal question on the ballot barely reached the minimum number needed. During the campaign, pro-amnesty groups outspent their opponents 10-1. Yet, when it came to the polling place, the effort to repeal the law in the State of Oregon won with 66% of the vote in their favor.

As for Brookings, it's a pretty conservative area . . . for the most part.

Here's the pictures I've taken so far during my trip to the American Northwest:

The artery you must get through to escape the Los Angeles
Basin, and pour into Central California is the Grapevine.
The Interstate 5 drive tops out at over 4,000 ft. above sea level,
and when we got to Gorman, the town near the zenith of the
elevation during our trip out of Southern California, we hit
a pretty solid snowfall.  We stopped for a quick meal at
Carl's Jr., and then got out of there.  The temperature dropped from
39 degrees to 35 degrees during the short time we went through
the fast food restaurant's drive-thru.

Once we got over the grapevine, my wife took over driving.  Basically,
the rule is, she drives the long straight safer parts of the journey, and I
drive the scary parts (inclement weather, mountain passes, winding roads,
and through busy city areas).  So, while she was driving, I told her take to take the I-5
to I-580, and then take the 580 to the U.S. 101 at San Rafael.  When she got to the
Bay Bridge (I-80) I woke up and she said, "I thought you said there were no tolls."
I replied, "There isn't."  I snapped this picture, thinking at first we were north
of San Francisco, then I realized at the split where the 580 went one way,
and the I-80 was your other choice, she had mistakenly taken the 80.
So, we paid our toll of $5.00 (weekend rate), and drove through San Francisco.
Good thing it was the middle of the night.  During the day, with the traffic and stoplights,
getting through Frisco would have taken an hour and a half. 

Once you get past Sausalito and the other towns on the north side
of the San Francisco Bay, the scenery opens up into incredible scenes of
forests you just don't see much of down in Southern California.  This is a shot
of the beginning of that part of our journey.

When we got to Eureka, the U.S. 101 goes through town as it does in

San Francisco.  When I saw signs about a historic old town,

I had to see it.  This was one of the views we got.  This is

the Ingomar house in Eureka, California, built 1885.

If you travel along the Northern California Coast, the redwoods are
definitely something you should stop to appreciate.  some of the trees
are massive.  There is one place where you can drive through a tree (tunneled
through the trunk of a very old one).  This is a rest area along the 101 that
also has some paths to walk through the trees, allowing you to enjoy the
scenery.  This is about ten miles away from the
Redwood National Park, tucked north of Eureka, and south of Klamath.

This is what the California Coast looks like around
Klamath, California.
The Oregon Coast is my favorite drive in the United States, with
The California Coast (shown above) as my second favorite, the
New England Coast (Connecticut to Maine) is in a very close third place,
and Georgia and South Carolina are tied for fourth.
I have yet to drive the Gulf Coast and North Carolina/Virginia.
I've been to all of the States along the Gulf Coast, but never drove
along the coast.  That said, New Orleans and Pensacola are pretty cool.
The Florida Space Coast is definitely a nice trip, too.  The State of
Washington is not as filled with forests as the Oregon Coast, but the
Puget Sound area makes for a great trip, as well.

When we arrive at the house in Brookings, Oregon, this little critter,
and friends, were watching us carefully.

The deer daily come to graze in the meadow just below the
main deck on the side of the house.

The caretaker of the property, who was like an uncle to me
when I was growing up, told me they come up in the morning,
and the evening.  Sometimes, they will take pieces of apple
right out his hand.  Roosevelt Elk used to frequent the property,
as well, but since the golf course down the hill put in electric
fencing and warning cannons to keep the wildlife off the course,
the elk have not been seen by him on the property for two years.

This beach is right next to Brookings Harbor.  It's about five minutes from the house.
Another beach is south of here, pictured below . . .

Harris State Beach.  Image taken during my trip in 2007.

Brookings Harbor.  The Hungry Clam (right side of photograph), in my opinion,
serves the best clam chowder on the West Coast.  The only chowder I've had
that was better was at a place in Mystic, Connecticut . . . and it was close . . .
they are both fantastic.  There's another place in the harbor here where you can buy
a whole crab, cleaned up and steamed, caught only hours before.  Nothing
better than having a fresh crab and bowl of clam chowder while sitting
on the deck enjoying the scenery.

It's a busy harbor.  This is a picture I took of it back in 2007.

Here I am standing on the corner of the main deck at the house.
Behind my wife, who took the photo, is the top of the driveway.
slightly to the right in front of me is the main window of the living
room, which means the scenery behind me is what you see through
the windows of that side of the house.

On the opposite side of the house is the game room.  There is also a television, ample seating,
a pinball machine, and as you can see on the far side of the room, a bar area. 
That's one of the two places I tend to set up my computer.  The other is at the
bar between the kitchen and the living room . . . you know,
so that I can write as I soak up the scenery.

This was the view form the deck this morning.  The white area you see
is fog.  When there is fog in the hills, that means its foggy in town.  When it
clears the hills, town is clear.  At 500 ft., we are above the fog, in the woods, yet only
five minutes from the harbor.

After taking a short walk, twisting my back into usability, and
getting the blood pumping, I walked over to try to get a shot of
a bunch of bunnies watching me.  The moment I headed in their
direction, they scattered, as expected.  This is the shot from where the
firewood is stacked up, and where the rabbits like to hang out.

Rick has become such a part of the environment, that even the chipmunks
come right up to him.  He feeds them, and pets them as they eat.

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