On Siblings, Camping, and Cape Lookout State Park

When I watch my twins playing together around our yard or out in the woods, I often think of all the important things shared between siblings. Although I don't know what it's like to have a twin, I am lucky to have a little brother. There is no other person in the world who shares my wealth of childhood camping memories. Of course, our parents have fond memories of all the camping trips, backpacking treks, backcountry boat excursions, river rafting adventures, backroad journeys and bushwhacking shenanigans, but not from the perspective of a couple of kids growing up in outdoor places. We spent a lot of time exploring wild lands together, from the Siebert's Creek ravine behind our home in the Olympic Mountain foothills to nameless mountain tarns in the Alpine Lakes Wilderness. We played, we fought, we built forts, we imagined whole kingdoms, and we soaked up the outdoors. The woods, the mud, the rocks and the streams shaped us. We were quite the adventurers.

Recently, my brother and I decided it was about time we went camping together again, since the last time was when I was home for the summer from college and he was still in high school. We had never gone without our parents! I suggested yurt camping since this is the best way our family has found to get out into the outdoors in the wintertime. February camping in the Pacific Northwest can be very cold and wet indeed without a very warm, dry shelter, which makes the Oregon State Park camping yurts a year-round outdoorsman's dream come true. We decided on Cape Lookout State Park as a good halfway point between Seattle and Eugene, and a good place for a little agro-tourism fun in nearby Tillamook (think creameries...think cheese...lots of cheese.)

More exciting than the camping and the cheese was that my brother and his girlfriend recently announced their wedding plans for next Fall. I could think of no better way to welcome someone to this family than to go camping together and carry on our traditions of fun outdoor excursions. Dan and Kat have been keeping busy in Seattle working, bartending, cooking, playing music, and scheduling bands to play at the Irish pub where he works, while our family has been busy with our homesteading endeavors here in Oregon, so I was looking forward to spending some time together beyond the yearly visits at the holidays.

It was Kat's first yurt camping trip, and I wanted her to have a good winter camping experience, so we were very pleased to find that these were some of the nicest yurts we had stayed in. All the state parks yurts we've visited have been very well kept and clean, but these had a different furniture placement making them more roomy, and more lighting. Many of them were elevated several feet off the ground with covered decks providing nice views out into the trees. I was very glad we went with yurts rather than tents because it poured buckets and hailed every night, and the snow level came all the way down to the hill behind the campground. Through it all, our yurts stayed very comfortably warm and dry. We also noticed an intriguing cluster of new camping cabins in the woods looking right out over the beach, which I filed away as an idea for future camping trips together.

When we rolled up one of our window coverings we discovered we had a furry little friend! This tiny bat was taking his daytime slumber under the shelter of this nice warm spot. It made little squeaking and clicking sounds at us, but didn't seem to wake up. We checked back after sunset, and our bat friend had flown off to hunt for bugs.

We had hearty pancake breakfasts cooked on our deluxe camping / canning stove. My brother went to culinary arts school, and cooks professionally, so we let him take over the pancakes. He made these great kielbasa sausages one night wrapped in red peppers and dough and baked in foil over the campfire. I learned a lot about camp cooking from him on this trip. I loved our camp kitchen view off the covered porch of the mossy woods with all the gnarled roots and nurse logs. The kids had a great time climbing up the natural staircases of roots to the top of logs and hiding under tree caves while we prepared hearty camping meals.

We explored a little to the South of the cape, and found a small sand dune area with nice beaches along a river estuary. It was such a sunny day the kids kicked off their shoes and rolled up their jeans to wade at the edge of the tide. We also discovered a small island nearby called Whalen Island where you can hike a loop trail, or beach walk around the perimeter and watch birds in the wildlife preserve.

My daughter and her soon-to-be aunt created an intricate village of sand huts with gardens, roads and walls. This was a great activity, since the kids are studying house and shelter construction in their class at the Waldorf School. If only we could have taken this home with us to turn in for her report!

I think the kids really enjoyed hanging out with their uncle too. We did a lot of walking and talking along the beach, and catching up on life.

In the afternoon, we headed into Tillamook for some cheese tasting. Being the food appreciating folks that we all are, we could think of no better way to spend an afternoon. We started at Blue Heron French Cheese Company to sample their brie cheeses, mustards, jams, dips and sauces. For only 2 dollars you can sample four Oregon wines off of their very substantial list, which includes a lot of my favorite fruit wines. Still more exciting is the petting farm outside with sheep, goats, emu, geese, peacocks, and a large assortment of fancy chickens. Then you can poke around the collection of old farm vehicles, tractors and a vintage double-decker bus and enjoy a picnic beside the lush green fields of cows munching away, with the Coast Range mountains for a backdrop. It has always been a favorite stop of mine on Oregon Coast road trips, with all that good wine and cheese and little bantam chickens running about. I've gotten a lot of chicken inspiration from that place over the years.

At the Tillamook Cheese Factory we enjoyed the self-guided tour through an observation deck above the cheese extravaganza that goes on there. 40 pound blocks of cheese come in on conveyor belts where they are cut down to size, packaged and inspected for quality along the way. You can watch the whole process from above. Then we sampled a variety of cheese cubes on toothpicks, and had ice cream and sorbet cones to round out the experience.

The weather mostly cooperated with clear, sunny days and nighttime rainstorms, but we were caught in a downpour on our last morning's hike, and all huddled under a thick stand of shore pines where my daughter snapped this family photo. What a bunch of adventurers! I have so many fond memories of camping with my brother growing up, and I look forward to building some of those camping memories for the next generation.

You can find out more about Cape Lookout State Park on their website here: http://www.oregonstateparks.org/park_186.php.

There's a lot of good information on the local hiking trails and updates on those snazzy new cabins I mentioned. You can also make reservations online for the yurts and cabins, although I suggest planning ahead on that as the proximity to Portland makes this a popular destination during warmer months. I make our winter reservations in December. I also hear it's a good location for whale watching and beachcombing for glass floats.

You can also check out the Tillamook Cheese Factory's website for information and hours here:

http://www.tillamook.com/cheesefactory/index.html

And the Blue Heron French Cheese Company here:

http://www.blueheronoregon.com/

Blackbeard the Pirate

Ahoy!

This fearsome looking, swashbuckling rooster answers to the name of Blackbeard the Pirate.

Don't be fooled by his short stature, he's a scallywag for sure.

Arrrrrrrrr!

February Snow

For the second time this year, we woke up to snow!

This doesn't happen around here too often these days, so it's a big event!

Everything outside the window was white.

And the big flakes just kept on falling from the sky.

We piled up the woodbox to keep the house warm...

And kept the fire roaring in the woodstove.

I made some hot mulled cider on the stove with our last jar from this Fall's cider pressing to warm up cold kids when they came in from playing in the snow.

The fields were lovely and still, except for the singing chorus of redwing blackbirds in the treetops, and the occasional "V" of geese flying overhead.

Our dog, Applejack, didn't quite know what to make of this little snowman. She hasn't seen many of them in her young, snow-deprived life, after all.

My son reported that a little family of birds was snuggled safe and warm in our birdhouse.

Trees once plain and bare were transformed into striking shapes against the snowy landscape.

After dreaming of snowy days all winter, this was a real treat! Although I'm not wild enough about snow to live somewhere where it covers the ground half the year, I do enjoy the occasional snow day here and there and I feel like I can really appreciate it for the short time it sticks around. The snow is such a polite guest in these parts of Oregon, never staying around long enough to wear out its welcome. The weather report says we should see another couple of inches tonight, and we're looking forward to it.

Old-Time Fun at the Frontier Fair

This weekend I took the kids to our local Frontier Heritage Fair. It has become a much anticipated annual event for our family, with demonstrations of traditional skills and all sorts of practical, useful things you can find there that they just don't make anymore. It's kind of like a trip to the shopping mall for homesteaders. My daughter talks all year about picking out a new sunbonnet, finding some exciting beads, and saving up for a rag doll. My son talks about those maple sugar cakes. I peruse the tables drooling over wooden bowls, aprons, cast iron, antler buttons and hides the way I imagine most women do at their favorite department store. Sometimes I think I was born in the wrong century.

This year my kids decided they were going to dress up. They made quite a fashionable pair, my daughter in her bonnet and shawl, and my son in his faux coonskin cap and thrift-score buckskin jacket. Several ladies in pioneer clothing came up and exclaimed over how much they loved our sense of fashion. Every year, lots of people ask us what Civil War re-enactment group we belong to. I always explain that this is us in real life. I have long hair and like wearing skirts. My daughter likes to wear her pioneer skirt and bonnet to school from time to time. My son frequently wears that jacket and cap around, and the dirt on his face is the real deal.  We're just homesteading type folks.  They're always very impressed that my kids know how to grind grain, churn butter, plant seeds, care for chickens, and possess so many traditional living skills.

My son enjoyed the woodworking and blacksmithing booths, which were the only thing that seemed to distract him from asking when we were going to find those maple sugar cakes.

I was drawn in to the stocking booth with all the fun, bright colors. I don't know if the wild stripes were around in frontier times, but they do carry all the traditional white, grey and red thick cotton knits and garters to hold them up. I think these are far more fun and functional than those throw-away pantyhose that are always running. I like my socks to stay put!

Then I oohed and ahhed over the pioneer dresses for a while. I managed to find a cotton skirt and two very useful aprons. When I explained to the vendor that I was not part of any Civil War re-enactment group and that I planned on using these for just wearing around, she looked at me kind of funny, but she was the one in a bonnet, after all.

The old-time merchantile booth was nothing short of amazing. The shelves were packed with pioneer sewing kits, stainless steel cups and plates, wooden bowls, candles, handkerchiefs, wooden buttons and all sorts of handy items. The lack of plastic was a welcome sight. My daughter found herself a rag doll and a new pair of white starched bloomers, and my son got an Abraham Lincoln top hat to use for his magic tricks. They were absolutely delighted with their purchases. It often seems to me that there should be a revival of the old fashioned merchantile with basic, real goods with real prices. I mention the last part because there are plenty of green living stores out there with many of these same items, and they are all wildly expensive. It would be great to go to one store where you could find dried bulk goods, cotton and wool fabrics, tools, and basic household items. And of course, maple sugar cakes.

We watched a spinning demonstration for a while at the Fort Umpqua Muzzleloaders booth. Spinning is one of those skills I admire greatly and just haven't found the time to take up yet. Since I don't know how to do it, yarn still holds an amazing magical quality for me. I'm very impressed with anyone who can turn wool into beautiful balls of yarn.

Here I took some time to admire the yarn they were selling. I was especially enamoured with that rich golden yellow.

The highlight of the day was finding the table with the jars of old-fashioned treats. Cane sugar cones, maple sugar cakes, black tea, and Mexican chocolate beckoned from jars beside the beeswax and gunpowder tea.

My son very generously bought a sugar cake for his sister as well as one for himself, and they were very well occupied with that the rest of our time there. We headed home with heads full of good ideas, mouths full of maple sugar, and arms full of useful homesteading finds.

Seeds are Here!

Time to get busy!

Signs of Spring

On a cold February day amidst the snow showers and hail, I'm thinking of all the signs of Spring I've spied around here lately. Nettles popping up, camelias blooming, green daffodil leaves emerging from the mud, and blossoming trees are all reassurances that winter will not last forever. What a welcome sight they are! Out at the coast, things are especially moving along, and on a recent camping trip, I saw an abundance of plants waking up from their Winter dormancy.

Salal (Gaultheria shallon)

I have always thought the delicate pink flowers on this shrub look like little fairy bells or lanterns. They're very striking against the shiny green foliage in the early Spring. I found this great article on Salal by B.C. naturalist, Jocie Ingram, which you can read here: Simply Salal.

I recently discovered her blog and it is a nature lover's delight!

Skunk Cabbage (Lysichitum americanum)

In spite of the common notion that this is a stinky plant, I have always enjoyed the pungent aroma of skunk cabbage when I'm out in the woods.

Coast Willow (Salix hookeriana)

Bursting open in sand dune marshes, these silvery pussy willow buds are always a welcome sign that Spring will soon be here!

Rhubarb, Strawberries and Asparagus: Planting Foods of the Frontier

This weekend we planted two of our 12" x 4" raised beds with Strawberries and Asparagus. The rhubarb will be in at the feed store in early March to fill the third. Many pioneers and settlers brought dormant asparagus and rhubarb crowns and seeds with them to plant on their homesteads because they transported well and produced food in varied climates. I once found rhubarb growing along a creek by a homestead cabin foundation  and ancient asparagus flowering away in a fallow field in Idaho's River of No Return Wilderness. In Alaska, homesteaders often plant rhubarb and strawberries as they are one of the few vitamin-c sources they can grow in the extreme climate. I also have a clump of my great-grandmother's rhubarb growing in my garden that I have been moving around with me from garden to garden for the last decade. Strawberries were an important food of the North American frontier as well, and so well loved as a wild food that they were cultivated in homestead gardens. These hardy plants have quite a history of sustaining hardy folks!

I really enjoy Willa Cather's description of a homestead garden in this passage of O Pioneers! : 
"One September afternoon Alexandra had gone over to the garden across the draw to dig sweet potatoes--they had been thriving upon the weather that was fatal to everything else. But when Carl Linstrum came up the garden rows to find her, she was not working. She was standing lost in thought, leaning upon her pitchfork, her sunbonnet lying beside her on the ground. The dry garden patch smelled of drying vines and was strewn with yellow seed-cucumbers and pumpkins and citrons. At one end, next the rhubarb, grew feathery asparagus, with red berries. Down the middle of the garden was a row of gooseberry and currant bushes. A few tough zenias and marigolds and a row of scarlet sage bore witness to the buckets of water that Mrs. Bergson had carried there after sundown, against the prohibition of her sons. Carl came quietly and slowly up the garden path, looking intently at Alexandra. She did not hear him. She was standing perfectly still, with that serious ease so characteristic of her. Her thick, reddish braids, twisted about her head, fairly burned in the sunlight. The air was cool enough to make the warm sun pleasant on one's back and shoulders, and so clear that the eye could follow a hawk up and up, into the blazing blue depths of the sky. Even Carl, never a very cheerful boy, and considerably darkened by these last two bitter years, loved the country on days like this, felt something strong and young and wild come out of it, that laughed at care."

Here is an asparagus crown. They look a little like strange aliens, don't you think? Much like our fruit trees, we'll be waiting on these for a few years, but fresh asparagus is well worth it. The first settlers in America would have encountered wild asparagus along sandy coastlines and near riverbanks with sandy soil. In 1672, the first domesticated asparagus was brought to New England, and was regularly cultivated in America by the mid 1700's. It was reportedly a favorite vegetable of Thomas Jefferson. The pioneers brought asparagus with them as they moved west, establishing patches at their homestead sites that are still growing today.

We put in three varieties of strawberries; Seascape (an everbearing producing June-November), Hood and Benton (both June-bearing.) I can't wait to send the kids outside this summer to pick their own snack! These nursery-grown crowns we plant in our gardens today were once an important wild food in North America. In his book, The Strawberry in North America: History, Origin, Botany and Breeding, by Stephen Whitcomb Fletcher, he writes: "As the pioneers pushed westward, in parallel lines, occupying successively western New York, Michigan and Illinois, Kentucky, Ohio and the great Mississippi Valley, the wild strawberry everywhere greeted them with an abundance of fresh fruit - a most welcome addition to frontier fare. It was so in lost Arcadia, and in old Quebec. The wild strawberry refreshed "forty-niners" in California, and those who followed the Lewis and Clark trail. In our own time, it has brought cheer to the settlers of the last frontiers, in Manitoba and Alaska. Always the wild strawberry has been intimately and gratefully associated with pioneer life...For many years after the colonies were established, there was little, if any,  garden cultivation of the strawberry. Wild berries were so plentiful that this was unnecessary. The abundant supply of native berries was appreciated all the more because of the limited supply of most other fruits...The first step in the domestication of the strawberry naturally would be to transfer to the garden some of the most superior plants found in the fields...Small towns soon sprang up and the cultivated area surrounding them gradually widened. As the land became more fully subdued in tilled crops, it was no longer the habitat of the wild strawberry. It became necessary for the housewife to go farther and farther afield to gather the annual supply for preserves and jams. There came a time when this trip became long and irksome; then wild plants were transplanted to the garden. This was the beginning of strawberry culture."

Here is a picture from last Spring of my proud little farmer planting the rhubarb descended from my great grandmother's garden. This year we moved it into one of those beds, now filled with good rich soil, to await the arrival of many more rhubarb crowns to keep it company. You might be surprised to know that rhubarb is technically a vegetable, but has been used as a fruit in cookbooks for centuries. I found this great article in the Silver Queen's Preservation News of Georgetown, Colorado, by Sandra Dallas called "Rhubarb Pieplant: a Blessing to Colorado's Pioneers," in which she writes: "For pioneer families who had survived the winter on meat, potatoes and dried-apple pie, one of the nicest harbingers of spring was the sight of furled green leaves on bright pink stalks poking up through the earth. Rhubarb still is one of nature's gifts to the dinner table, but it was even more highly prized in Colorado¹s early mining towns because of the year-around dearth of fresh fruits and vegetables. Pioneer women brought rhubarb seeds with them on the Overland Trail, sowing them beside their log cabins and sod houses. Long after the houses had returned to the earth, the rhubarb, which requires virtually no tending, still thrived. Ghost town buffs know that a clump of rhubarb on the prairie or in a mountain valley means that a dwelling once stood nearby. As the pioneers settled in, they established kitchen gardens behind their houses, and rhubarb was one of their favorite plants. In Georgetown, rhubarb beds dating back decades and perhaps a century or more, grow in the yards of many houses and along the roadways."

Since they were such eye-candy at the garden store, I also put in a few pansies for a little early Spring color by the front steps of our farmhouse. While they are not as functional of an addition to my homestead as the others, I do enjoy these lovely flowers in salads, and candied with sugar-water to top cakes. What a cheerful sight they made to welcome in the early beginnings of garden season!

To a Snowdrop

To a Snowdrop

Lone Flower, hemmed in with snows and white as they

But hardier far, once more I see thee bend

Thy forehead, as if fearful to offend,

Like an unbidden guest. Though day by day,

Storms, sallying from the mountain-tops, waylay

The rising sun, and on the plains descend;

Yet art thou welcome, welcome as a friend

Whose zeal outruns his promise! Blue-eyed May

Shall soon behold this border thickly set

With bright jonquils, their odours lavishing

On the soft west-wind and his frolic peers;

Nor will I then thy modest grace forget,

Chaste Snowdrop, venturous harbinger of Spring,

And pensive monitor of fleeting years!

~William Wordsworth

Have a Heart: A Wild Mountain Recipe

When my dad came back from his annual Idaho elk hunting trip this year, he said he had a surprise for me. What, I wondered, could be a better surprise than coolers filled with packages of ground wild elk, steaks, sausage, roasts and summer sausage? Well, my dear old dad saved me the heart. Feeling honored to eat such a vital part of this wild creature, I decided to save it for a special occasion. My husband and children made it clear that they did not want to have any special occasions where elk heart was on the menu, so I saved it for a hearty meal with my friends who would appreciate it. When Jeff, Taryn and baby Bracken, my homesteading friends out on the Siuslaw River invited me over for lunch, I could think of nothing better to share than my heart. I made a brown rice stuffing with dried apples, shittake mushrooms and fresh sage, and brought it over for lunch, seasoned, stuffed, and ready to bake.

Now, I realize this might sound gross to some of you. Perhaps you are vegetarian and the thought of eating a heart is most offensive, or maybe you have traumatic childhood memories of your mother making you eat organ meats. I have to be very honest that organ meats are one of those things I know are really good for me and I try really hard to like them, but usually the texture is what gets to me. I have fond memories of the chicken gizzard and macaroni dinners my grandma used to make for my brother and I, but I still can't handle liver no matter how hard I try. I took a course one semester in college on world foods, and a big focus was how the United States is one of the few countries that mostly wastes the organ meats of the animals we consume. We read this wonderful book called The Eternal Food: Gastronomic Ideas and Experiences of Hindus and Buddhists, edited by R.S. Khare that I highly recommend. If you are an omnivore, it is certainly something to think about. I'm not into wasting anything, so I keep trying to stay open to organ meats.

Back to this heart. It looked and smelled delicious when it came out of the oven, and I was excited to try it with the blackeye peas, bear meat, and sauerkraut Jeff and Taryn had made. The flavor was very much like  any other cut of elk, and the texture was a little more spongy than I am into, but overall, I thought it was good. As we were eating, it crossed my mind that this would make a very fitting Valentine's Day meal. After all, what says "I love you" like a heart?

Jeff posted a picture of our meal on his Facebook page with some words of appreciation, and the thread of responses it elicited gave me some food for thought. I have noticed that there are many times when vegetarians pass harsh and righteous judgment upon folks who eat meat, even upon those who strive to do so very consciously and sustainably, yet I don't often see omnivores making judgmental responses to vegetarians concerning the soybeans and corn they eat. I can see room on both sides for concern about sustainability and the widespread effects of our food production on the planet, but really I think we ought to all just have a heart (figuratively) and be respectful of one another's choices. I was feeling especially appreciative of my vegetarian and vegan friends when I thought about all this, with whom I have had countless mutually respectful conversations about food and sustainability. I am encouraged by this, that respect and understanding are possible on a wider scale.

So, I encourage you to have a heart and to try some organ meats every once in a while if you are inclined. They are rich in nutrients and vitamins, and provide a good deal of energy in the wintertime. Know that somewhere in Oregon, I'll be having some food adventures and challenging the preferences of my palate right along with you.

Mountain Hearth's Wild Heart Recipe

one elk heart (or deer, moose, cow or sheep will do)

sage leaves

garlic

salt and pepper

1 cup cooked brown rice

a handful of shittake mushrooms

a handful of dried apples and/or pears

1/2 an onion diced

2 stalks of celery diced

sage powder

garlic powder

butter or coconut oil

1. Heat 2 tbsp butter in a pan and saute onions, celery and mushrooms

2. Stir with the rice, diced dried fruit, and seasonings

3. Stuff the heart and season the top with salt, pepper, garlic and sage leaves

4. Bake covered at 350 for about an hour

Happy Heart Day!

"Made From Scratch": A Homesteaders Must-Have

With all the things to do around this homestead, reading has definitely taken a back burner this past year. However, I am proud to say, that after a handful of stolen moments here and there, I finally finished Jenna Woginrich's inspiring do-it-yourself memoir called "Made From Scratch: Discovering the Pleasures of a Handmade Life." I have to say that not only do I wish this book had been around much earlier in my life, but I think I would be doing you all a disservice by not telling you to go out and read it. Her message is to follow your farming dreams, in whatever little steps you can, and let those small accomplishments toward self-sufficiency feel huge and feed you as you go. You don't need a picturesque, sprawling farm to get started with the do-it-yourself lifestyle. You might only have an apartment with a patio and a few peas growing in a windowsill. It's all about those little steps along the way. Along with this encouragement, comes some very practical advice to get started in the right direction, like how to keep bees, raise chickens, bake bread, sew some clothes, make your own mountain music, and make the best cup of coffee ever.

I have been following Jenna's blog, Coldantler Farm for about a year now, and it is nothing short of amazing.
What sets Jenna apart from most modern homesteaders I know of, is that she is just a young, single working woman doing this on her own, on top of her 9-5 day job. She works all day at an office, and goes home to her old farmhouse to tend a flock of sheep, raise chickens and geese, feed her pig, and train her sheep dog. She tells stories of baking bread, knitting with yarn spun from her own wool, making delicious pies, and making old-time mountain music on the banjo, guitar, fiddle and dulcimer. She recently started a fiber CSA on her farm where folks were able to buy shares of the wool she produced this year from her sheep. This woman is my homesteading hero.

In this part memoir/part how-to modern homesteading book, Jenna lays it out honestly. She shares the joys and heartaches of backyard homesteading in your rental, trial and error of raising portable livestock, trying to grow your dream garden, moving your homestead across the country in a station wagon, and living this lifestyle because you love it and couldn't do it any other way. She shares some of her mistakes that other greenhorns starting out may learn from, and presents it all with wit and humor. There is also another book of hers recently published about raising chickens called Chick Days, which sounds equally wonderful and worth reading. I say go out and get your hands on these books ASAP!

Here is a link to one of her past blog posts about gratitude that I found especially inspiring: http://coldantlerfarm.blogspot.com/2011/01/most-peculiar-thing.html

Happy handmade living!

Animal Tracking at the Oregon Dunes

It's quite a feeling to be out walking on a wild stretch of beach and realize a whole array of wildlife was walking in the same place just before you came along. People tend to be so bumbling and noisy, we may never see the other creatures occupying the same space, but if you look closely you can find signs of who was there. Beaches and sand dunes are excellent places for animal tracking because the prints are so easy to see and follow. Bring an animal tracks guide along with you, and you're ready to go! Our favorite is Animal Tracks of Washington and Oregon by Ian Sheldon, but there are many others specific to various regions.

Here are a few distinct tracks we found this past weekend on the beaches and sand dunes of the Oregon Coast. Most of these are common animals whose tracks you can find in both urban and wild areas, and maybe even right in your backyard!

We came across a lot of raccoon trails by the ocean shore. The long "fingers" reminiscent of tiny human handprints are a good way to recognize these tracks.

Often you will find a walking pattern of a foreprint next to a hindprint with a heel mark.

The long heel and long toes are pretty distinct.

Here the coyote tracks stopped right by a pile of scat! Sorry to post poop pictures on the Internet here, but it's helpful to note all the hair in the droppings, which makes it look quite different from doggie doo.

These tracks were much larger, and came from a low dune by the beach, where they went along the shoreline for a while and then back up to the dunes. I think they were bear tracks because of the size, and the presence of claws (a cougar had retractable claws which wouldn't show in prints.)

See how the back heel pad shows here? I am definitely thinking bear.

When we saw these little tracks on the sand dunes, our first thought was that a bobcat made these. Then we thought about cats and retractable claws, and decided these were made by a small fox.

They went all the way to the top of the dune we were climbing, as though the critter had been there just ahead of us, and out-foxed us by hiding! (No pun intended.)

These tiny prints came from some little critter, probably a mouse or chipmunk.

It looks as though this bird left behind instructions for some sort of dance.

I wonder what the animals make of these tracks when they come across them?