After I arrived, and had yelled and screamed, myself and the man who's back end had been bludgeoned, struggled to stretch Fargo's front bumper back. In the end it took a tow truck, two-by-four, crowbar, four pound sledge hammer and some Coast Guard kid (whom we met outside the Home Depot, who just so happened to have a 9,000lb Warn winch on the front of his truck), in order for Fargo's front wheel to move freely. It was after eight by the time we hit the highway. And three hours later we were in Astoria, camped out in a dark corner of the Comfort Suites' parking lot, listening to a bunch of seals having some kind of wild sex orgy.
We drove all the way down to Pacific City the next morning, stopping in Seaside for but a few minutes. It looked awesome everywhere. A small swell, little to no wind and low tide. We parked at the Pelican Pub, pulled our boards out the back of the van, slipped on some rubber suits and paddled out. There were a few fun ones. Okay, a lot of fun ones. And it was nice to see some familiar faces. Afterward, we ate tacos and drank mango-strawberry margaritas at Ben & Jeff's. Then we climbed the giant sand dune. Bad idea. Shortly before the sun began to set, we pulled the van into the parking lot behind Moment Surf Co. and setup our stuff.
The film was a lot of fun. Everyone crowded around our cargo van in the paved parking lot right behind the surf shop. The taco stand stayed open late so people could eat and drink. Beers were bought, schwag was scattered amongst the stoked and we may have drank a few more margaritas. The evening ended around eleven, I think. Wind and wild waves arrived first thing Sunday morning. Hungover and hungry, we ate a big breakfast and then headed north toward Tillamook. A rather depressing "tour" of the cheese factory was followed by beers at Bill's Brewhouse, pizza and a four hour drive home in the dark. Not sure why we hadn't headed south sooner?!
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