I have a favorite tree.
This tree is everything a tree should be. It’s just tall enough to be majestic, its branches wide enough to spread a canopy, but low enough to climb, and best of all, it makes the perfect perch with a book and a pot- yes, a pot- of coffee on the cool mornings of the Oregon Coast, when the rest of the campground is sleeping.
The view of my campsite from my perch in the tree
Humbug State Park is one of the Oregon Coast campgrounds that often flies under the radar. This small park is tucked away just south of Port Orford; it’s the kind of place where you can find a campsite, even in the busiest of seasons-that’s how we found it. It doesn’t have playgrounds or disc golf. It doesn’t have a long list of amenities designed to keep you busy.
It has something better. It has room to breathe.
If you look hard enough, you might even be lucky enough to find…some luck 🙂
It has a stream with a bridge, perfect for pretending to be goats and trolls or for wading and catching minnows. It has a path lined with blackberries and ferns, with signs describing native wildlife. It has the tallest mountain in the Coast Range and a trail that goes up to Old 101 for the best views. It has the rough, wild scenery that makes the Oregon Coast so beautifully rugged.
And, best of all?
It has my tree.
Writing this piece made me realize that for the past 15 years I have spent too much time in this tree to take a picture of it
This was the first park we camped at when we got our first motorhome in 2011. It was Memorial Day Weekend, and we had always been die-hard tent campers, but life, time, and children won out. We traded our camping supplies full of tubs and bags for a used Class C and a rolling bathroom.
That weekend it rained, and rained, and rained. We woke up to find tents turned upside down to dry out and the campers sleeping in cars with fogged-up windows.
We were warm, snug, and maybe a little smug.
On that trip I started my camping log.
This small, green notebook has notes on every camping trip since then. It has campsite reviews, dates, notes, and lists of the best and worst sites at campgrounds.
That is how I found my tree.
I was taking the short hike up to Old 101 when I spotted it in the back of a small campsite tucked up against the hill. The site was empty, so I took an exploratory climb.
It was the perfect tree.
I am a tree-climber from way back, so no matter my age, if there is a climbing tree, I will climb. After that initial voyage up, I knew next time that had to be our campsite.
We have been back to Humbug State Park many times, and I always try to book that site. Sometimes I get lucky. Sometimes I don’t. And sometimes I have to fight for my tree.
It was Mother’s Day weekend a few years ago. I was fighting a spring cold, our motorhome battery had died, and we were running late getting off work. All I wanted to do was get to the campsite and go to bed knowing that the next two mornings would be spent up in my tree with a book and coffee.
We got to the campsite late, probably around 9:30 or 10:00, and someone was already camped there.
It was a big rig that barely fit.
We parked, and I walked back to the registration station to make sure I wasn’t mistaken about our campsite. I wasn’t, so I knocked on their door.
With my smiliest smile, I told them that they were mistakenly in our campsite and asked them to move to theirs. They were not smiley.
They “kindly” told me where I could stuff it, and that they were there first and liked this site better than theirs. They claimed to be camping for only one night and said they would move early in the morning.
I didn’t buy it.
Besides, I wanted my tree.
I know I should have let it drop, but I went to the camp host and knocked on his door. He was friendly, acknowledged that I was in the right, and said he would take care of it.
After several minutes of back and forth, the squatters packed up and went to their site a couple of places down.
I know I should probably have let it go, but when I was still up in my tree at 11:00 the next morning and they still hadn’t popped their head out of the camper, I knew I had made the right decision.
It is a tree worth fighting for.
Even if climbing trees and drinking coffee isn’t your thing, Humbug State Park is still one of the best.
The beach has changed over the years and gotten smaller. When we visited a couple of weeks ago, the path to the beach had moved up the hill. The creek had changed course to cut off much of the sand, and sea urchins have taken over the tide pools.
Humbug beach tide pool finds over the years
The coast is always changing. That’s what makes it the coast.
But some things are worth returning for.
For me, it’s a small campsite tucked up against a hill, a good book, a pot of coffee, and a tree with branches just low and wide enough to climb.
My tree.
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