My little brother calls Lincoln City the “Chile of the Oregon Coast.”
The long, long skinny beach town hugs Hwy 101 for miles: a rambling collection of nondescript businesses, gas stations, and strip malls dotted with a few eye catching boutiques, outlet stores, and saltwater taffy shops. I remember my parents taking us to the shoreline in the eighties and nineties to watch soaring cloth birds fill the sky during the annual Summer Kite Festival, but my adult memories of Lincoln City consist of passing quickly through on drives to destinations north or south: never quite enough time or reason to simply stop and be there.
This trip, though, the pin on the map at the end of our route was just a west turn off Hwy 101 and two blocks from the sand: a cheery little beach house in Lincoln City, proper. Continue Reading…
