The Getaway Oceanfront in Rockaway Beach
Winding roads, turn after turn, speeding through the trees faster than the little white signs on the side of the road tell you to go. Enormous dark green trees rise up around you and the smell of sap weasels its way into your car. Sun sneaks through the trees, rays of light that would make even Edward Cullen’s face sparkle. Just a short 70 mile drive to the beautiful town of Rockaway, Oregon. This small beach town isn’t home to many people, but it is home to the small motel The Getaway. The name of this fabulous place describes it perfectly; it is a complete Getaway, an escape. Your problems begin to seem as small as a grain of sand; worries wash away with the tide as your heart soars like the birds above you. There is no place more relaxing or comforting. Yes, there may be places that are more beautiful or better known, but that’s what makes The Getaway so special. An expensive, high ceiling, chandelier filled hotel isn’t the way to release and let go of everything. A small condo, older than your grandparents, 20 feet from the beach is the way to relax and heal.
The windy road spits you out onto the pavement hugging the side of a cliff, a mere railing between you and the ocean below. Drive a few more miles and turn left at the simple “Welcome” sign of The Getaway. Your car rattles as you drive over the railroad tracks, the tires crunch over the gravel of the small parking lot. The same gravel that you dart across barefoot as a young child. Your feet get so cold that the gravel feels like the bottom of your feet are going to split open. Once your toes touch the sand your feet begin to go numb from the cold. Walking up the dune, long grass covered in dew swishes against your thighs making your jeans damp. Salt filled air kisses your face and sticks to your hair. The only time the wind dies down is when you bring out your kite, because of course if you come prepared then whatever you are prepared for will not happen.
The sand is cold and heavy. Two years ago, my family buried my friend and me in the sand. They dug a deep hole for the two of us to lay next to each other, like little graves in the damp cold. Being buried in the warm beaches of Hawaii is much different than being covered in the cold grains of Oregon sand. The sand weighed down on our chests as we laughed hysterically throughout the long process. We turned into a very interesting mermaid, with multiple shell bras, muscular arms and a waist wide enough for two laughing teenage girls. We reached a point where the sand was too heavy and the cold was seeping in through our clothes. The weight of the sand was too much for us to get out on our own so my brothers had to drag us out by our arms. Covered in damp sand we dragged ourselves back up the dune, across the sharp gravel and up the stairs to our room. My mom had hot chocolate waiting for us so we could begin to warm ourselves from the inside. The Getaway can turn adults back into children as they play in the sand, run through the tide and collect shells. One of our favorite activities is to try and stop the small creek that runs from the town to the ocean. We’ve tried stopping the water completely and re-routing the path of the water. Each year we come up with new ideas, but each year we fail. To us, that never matters. We’ll stay outside in the cold until our fingers and feet go numb, only taking small breaks to warm ourselves by the fire, or to get snacks that our parents bring down for us.
The giant windows provide a breathtaking view of the sunset from the safety of your room. We have yet to see the infamous green flash of light when the sun disappears into the ocean. However, we search for it every single evening. The calm colors blend together to paint the perfect picture before your eyes, each sunset is uniquely different, but they are all consistently beautiful. Listening to the crashing of the waves creates natural music that soothes the mind. Personal turmoil always seems to swell up and rise, like a tidal wave right before any trip to The Getaway. But as soon as you take that first step out of the car, your problems fall away as the wave retreats, drowning your problems in the cold water. Emotions build up like the packed sand in the castles molded using plastic toys, but they come crashing down just as easily as they were built.
The Getaway doesn’t care who you are, where you’ve been or where you come from. Everyone has a different reason for loving this wonderful place. My mother grew up there. She used to spend weeks upon weeks there during the summer as a family vacation. Her father, a man I never got to meet had been going there since he was a child. Love for The Getaway has been passed down through the generations of my family. This past year, my brother proposed to the love of his life sitting on a log on that very beach that we’ve been visiting since we were born. My cousin used to say that she measures her growth each year when she visits Rockaway in the summer. She would always reflect on everything that had happened in the past year to see how far she’d progressed in life. To me, The Getaway is an escape. There isn’t much cell service and there aren’t many people. Life and reality are left just before you hit the trees and that long, winding road. The trees act as an impenetrable wall between you and your problems. The Getaway isn’t a person, The Getaway isn’t a medication, but The Getaway has its own way of healing people. You won’t understand until you escape into its embrace, until you feel the calm that washes over you like rain.
The Getaway
oceanfront lodging
621 S. Pacific
Rockaway Beach, Oregon 97136
1-800-756-5552
getawayocean@earthlink.net