Coast Chronicles: Home again, home again, jiggity jig 

Published 5:00 pm Sunday, March 8, 2026

Being away from home allows one to size home up, to experience anew the advantages or disadvantages of where one lives. I think this fresh look requires a distancing of at least a week. A weekend won’t do. A couple weeks — particularly in another country, or maybe another state — are even better at giving one a new look at things. So two weeks in Baja California Sur were enough for me.

And just a note here on “ Baja California Sur.” Our Mexican tour guide explains to us that this name vastly predates the name of our largest west coast state. Though we Americans say simply “Baja” for the Mexican peninsula south of the state of California, that is incorrect and actually insulting to Mexican people. Their peninsula is actually two states: the most southern is Baja California Sur; and the northern part is just Baja California — we usurped the name California for our state. For simplicity’s sake here, I am mostly going to use our common, if mistaken, nomenclature of “Baja” for this region of Mexico.

Mexico

First, let me say again there is more than enough magic and beauty to compel one to return to Baja California Sur. But there are many things that unsettled us Americans. Would there be hot water at the hotel when we landed for the night? Would our hotel keys actually open the doors? Would the air conditioning work? Would there be toilet paper? Would breakfast be served on time? Would the lettuce be properly washed? First-world problems did abound.

The domestic side of events, products, and facilities often left questions in one’s mind. However, the wild natural side of the equation was spectacularly stunning. The whales were never late. The sun rose as expected over Mount Seurat on Carmen Island, shining brilliantly across the Sea of Cortez, and went down over Sierra de la Giganta. The moon took over as expected in the evening. The seas, lagoons, and bays exhibited their bluer-than-blue blues and turquoisey-turquoise lapping up against the many white sand beaches. Dolphins frolicked in the waves.

The virtues of home

But still, coming home was a delight. Driving onto the peninsula over the Astoria-Megler Bridge gives a returning citizen a magnificent view of the majesty and breadth of the Mighty Columbia. No wonder so many explorers thought that it was a bay and not the mouth of a navigable river to the interior. There can’t be many other places where entering one’s home state is as dramatic as that!

Then there’s our weather. Though the Baja trip was reputedly taking place during the winter, there were many days when the towns we passed through were in the high 90s. One day 104 was the norm. I worry about our neighbors to the south when summer arrives. (But don’t tell Trump — it will upset his “no climate change” apple cart.) Anyway, I opened my window to take in our cool, refreshing air as soon as I drove over the bridge.

RE that: I will never complain about our rain again (though check with me next winter). Everywhere we went on the Baja California Peninsula my first thought was “Where is their water coming from?” The Jesuits had it right. Every place they found an oasis in the middle of the desert, they built a mission. And the valleys that had aquifers underground were readily identifiable because of the larger, healthier cardon cacti and other dry land flora. Though I’m not sure we have as clear an understanding of our aquifer as we need, its refresh rate is no doubt higher than any in Baja.

Friends and family

Of course one misses one’s beloveds when traveling. I was sorry to miss Sydney Stevens’ 90th birthday bash. I hear it was quite the event and, in fact, the celebrations carried on for several days both before and after her actual birthday. As for me, I cannot see any signs of aging in our local Oysterville doyenne. I’m quite sure she’s going to continue telling tales and reminding us about times past for decades to come. She may outlast us all.

Some of us also pined for family members that had to stay at home: dogs, cats and horses. I called my sis — who had graciously agreed to keep care of Jackson — every evening on WhatsApp. That is, if I could find a reliable internet connection. I was appalled at how dependent on the internet we have all become. For one whole day we tour-mates did not have Wi-Fi, and the next morning we all hungrily arrived desperate to plant our faces into our phones again when the ‘Net’ was available. Bette Lu, my trusty trip-mate, began some mornings by calling her pet-sitter to “talk” to her bereft cat Lucy who was hiding in the closet.

The ability to send texts and photos to far away friends kept us connected. It’s a small world now for most travelers. But coming home catalyzed wonderful reunions.

Conveniences and faves

Ah, those glorious conveniences of home. My first order of business, after unpacking, was drawing a hot bath. IMHO there is not much a steaming soak cannot cure. Not only does it loosen creaky joints, but it softens and cleanses the mind of bric-a-brac, peevish thoughts, and worries. At least temporarily. Also it allows the mind to release the less appealing travel memories and focus instead on the brilliant highlights of whatever has come before. (In this case, stroking whales!)

Then laundry. Though a few things could be hand-washed and then laid out to dry, after a trip one has stacks of clothes and underwear to send through those time-saving machines most all of us have in our homes. Set a few controls, add soap, throw stuff in, and voila, clean clothes emerge on the other end of the process. (I still remember tales of my Pennsylvania grandma who had eleven kids: she and her husband got up at 5 a.m. two days a week to wash, ring out and hang to dry in the basement all the family laundry.)

I also gathered up on the way home all my favorite local foods: Blue Scorcher bread and a cardamon roll; Straus whole milk and tofu egg salad at the Astoria Coop; Mary’s Harvest hummus and Tillamook cheese at Jack’s. I think that’s when I knew I was really home. (Though I’ll miss Mexican papayas and mounds of fresh scrumptious guacamole.)

Beauty and bounty

These things enumerated above are perhaps only the surface reasons why I live here. What really struck me was the beauty of our peninsula. There is no question about it. We are surrounded by the most stunning bodies of water. Our beach is a gift from God, or the Columbia River, or whoever or whatever arranged for these things.

The bounty of nature here is remarkable, both the wildness and the wildlife. It’s why Jimella Lucas and Nanci Main stationed themselves and their incredible eatery, The Ark, here “in the middle of nowhere.” They wanted to exist at the source of fresh, local seafood, and not in downtown Seattle, Los Angeles or New York — places that would have made their labor of love so much more profitable.

Finally, along with all these indisputable glories, our community is extraordinary. We are surrounded by thoughtful, giving, hardworking, and friendly people. How did we get so lucky?