What’s dark, wet, and smells like kelp?

How many times do I need to pass point of interest before I finally stop? How often do I get so fixated on reaching my destination that it never occurs to me to stop?

Well, I’ve driven north or south on US101 in Oregon at least a dozen times yet never stopped at Sea Lion Caves between Waldport and Florence. Why not? I like sea lions. I like caves. Sounds perfect, like chocolate and peanut butter. Uh, mostly because the parking lots always looked jammed.

But it was a slow travel type of day. Not far to go. No hurry. I had already spread out my chores with a few stops already. So I finally pulled in, found a parking spot on the upper lot I hadn’t known existed, then jostled my way through the gift shop to buy a ticket. (I commented to the young woman selling tickets that I liked how her hair color matched her maroon t-shirt. She said it wasn’t intentional.)

There were several sets of stairs, then a long paved walkway sloping halfway down the cliff face. That led to the elevator. When it arrived it was packed like sardines/anchovies/kippers. But I happened to be the only one waiting to descend at that particular time, so it was just me and the operator. There was a queue of about 30 people waiting at the bottom.

The area was dimly lit. There were artifacts and information boards. And there was the large viewing portal into the sea cave. Though signs had said there might not be sea lions in the cave where we were there, a couple dozen of them were draped on the rocks instead of being out in the ocean doing other sea lion things. 

Then there were more stairs and information boards up to an opening with a view north along the shore, with Heceta Head lighthouse in the distance (which I had visited several years ago).

It being the ocean, and the Pacific Northwest, and with the cave—and everything in it—being a cooler temperature that makes the abundant moisture condense, everything was a little wet. The floor, the steps, the handrails you want to use to keep from slipping…

After my own sardine/anchovy/kipper elevator ride, it was time to schlep my old self up the walkway, up the stairs (where there was a hand sanitizer dispenser), squirm back through the gift shop, dodge traffic crossing 101, and climb the hill to the upper parking lot. I felt like I had hiked half way up Everest. Man, I’m getting old. I envied the sea lions sleeping in the cave. So I slept a bit in my own cave.