Alright, buckle up folks. Decided to finally bite the bullet and drive down to Bandon, Oregon this weekend. Heard crazy things about those sea stacks, those big rocks in the ocean? Supposed to be epic, especially for photos. Let me tell you exactly how it went down.
The Bright Idea & Planning Phase
Woke up Thursday morning, coffee in hand, staring at the rain outside. Thought, “Man, I need some ocean air.” Pulled up a map app on my phone, not gonna say which one. Scrolled down the Oregon coast. Kept seeing Bandon popping up. Sea stacks. Checked the weather report – typical Pacific Northwest, said 50% chance of rain. Said screw it, let’s gamble. Packing was a mess. Threw in my big camera body, tossed the heaviest zoom lens I own into the bag, figured I’d need it. Grabbed the little travel tripod, its legs always feel kinda wobbly. Dug out my old waterproof jacket – not sure how waterproof anymore. Threw snacks, extra batteries, and a cheap instant coffee maker into a box. Oh, and grabbed that drone I barely know how to fly. Big mistake? Probably.
Hitting the Road
Saturday morning, started stupidly early. Like, dark outside early. Loaded the car, spilled half my travel mug trying to fit it in the cup holder. Road was quiet at first, just me and the headlights. Coffee kicked in by Eugene. Weather looked kinda promising? Broken clouds. Felt optimistic. Turned onto the coastal highway – Highway 101, obviously – and bam. Fog. Thick, wet, can’t-see-past-the-hood fog. Slowed down to a crawl, windshield wipers going nuts. Took way longer than Google said it would. Annoying.
Finally Seeing Face Rock
Rolled into Bandon around lunchtime, stomach growling. Fog was still hanging around, but lifting a little. Went straight down to the beach access near Face Rock State Park. Parked the car, paid the stupid parking fee machine (cramped my finger). Walked down the path to the sand. Wind hit me first. Freezing, strong enough to almost knock me sideways. Pulled my hood tight. Then I saw them. Those huge rocks sticking out of the water like giant fingers. Face Rock itself looked… kinda grumpy? Honestly creepy in the mist. Amazing sight, though. Raw power. Started taking pics immediately. Wind shook the tripod like crazy, every shot was blurry mess. Lowered the legs, planted it deep in the wet sand. Better. Walked further south, saw more crazy shapes – Cat and Kittens Rocks, Wizard’s Hat. Tried to imagine the names, some were a stretch!
The Drone Disaster (Almost)
Figured, okay, higher view. Unboxed the drone. Battery level? One bar. Of course I forgot the other batteries were charging back home. Felt like a genius. Waited for a lull in the wind. Started the motors. Thing wobbled like a drunk trying to take off. Got it about 20 feet up, buffeted all over. Camera feed was pure nausea fuel. Flew it sideways towards Face Rock, camera pointed down. Got maybe 30 seconds of decent video before a gust caught it. Swung wildly towards the cliff. Panic slammed the stick back. Brought it down hard onto a patch of soft grass just inland. Almost kissed the soggy ground when it landed in one piece.
Wrapping It Up and Driving Home
Cold was soaking right through my jacket now. Hands were numb. Decided the beach had beaten me. Packed the shaky tripod, stashed the scary drone, hiked back to the car. Found a little fish shack near the harbor. Ordered fish and chips. Sat in the car eating, staring at the churning ocean. Still epic. Still worth the fog and the wind and the near-heart attack drone moment. Drove home tired, sandy, smelling like sea salt and fried food. Downloaded the pictures. Most looked terrible, shaky, dark. But a few… just a few… captured the moody, powerful feel of that place. Definitely going back. Maybe when it’s not trying to blow me into the Pacific.
