I-94 And The Ocean

I was born in Menomonie, Wisconsin. A small town with a little state university. I lived there until I was 19.

Every night, I was lulled to sleep by the sounds of Interstate 94 which was about a half mile away. The trucks jake braking, state troopers running their sirens, and the occasional accident.

But it was the dull, constant white noise of the cars and trucks moving over the concrete and asphalt that I remember. White noise of the man-made variety. It was soothing.

At night, the sound was the most distinct. It seemed to travel easier to our bedrooms.

The distant freeway. We just called it The Freeway and everybody knew what you were talking about.

When you were laying in bed, you could imagine all the fabulous places everyone was going.

Usually just semi-trucks moving goods from Chicago to Minneapolis.

But that sound can still put me to sleep.

The sound of The Freeway.

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Highway 101 and The Pacific

Fast-forward 30 years. I made good my escape from small town Wisconsin to small town Oregon. Newport, Oregon. To be honest, Menomonie and Newport are very similar. The only difference is one is on a lake and one is on an ocean. They both have Walmarts.

I can see the Pacific Ocean from our balcony. We sit on a ridge about 150ft up.

I always wanted to live near The Ocean. I was thinking more along the lines of California, but this will do. I don’t like going in the water anyhow.

When we moved here, I realized that I could see Highway 101 just to our west. It sits just in front of Pacific. People around here just call it “101.” If you call it “The 101” or “Highway 101” you may get chastised by a local.

Highway 101 is the main connector that runs the length of the Oregon Coast. It can get pretty busy in the summer and pretty desolate the rest of the year.

101 is also deadly.

Just about every week you hear the sirens going to a wreck. Usually, somebody swerved over the center line. Or off the side of a cliff. Just a few miles away. Often, somebody will die, but sometimes they live.

I have never lived next to such a deadly and beautiful spot that seem to merge together.

101 runs right along the Pacific in most spots. I suppose gazing out at one of the most beautiful places in the world, The Pacific, lulls people into thinking their vehicles are safe.

And then, they cross the center line or drive off a cliff.

The siren song of the Pacific is a reality. The beauty of the ocean pulls many a driver off, onto the rocks, to their deaths.

And lots of them are drunk.

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When we first moved into our apartment, I heard the sound of 101. It reminded me of living in Menomonie, near I-94.

The lull of the cars driving by day and night. It helped me sleep. Occasionally I would hear sea lions. There’s also a barred owl now that live in the Douglas pine forest to the east.

A few months after we moved in, I was standing out on the porch at two AM, listening to the sound of 101. That’s when I realized there weren’t any cars driving.

That wasn’t 101 I was hearing.

That, was the ocean. Waves in the distance crashing and moving.

For those first two months I lived next to the ocean I thought I was hearing Interstate-94. The white noise machine of my childhood.

But it wasn’t I-94 or Highway 101.

It was the ocean.

The sound of the ocean is much more pleasing than the freeway from a rational perspective, but I will always correlate the two. Now.

I can still imagine escaping via boat instead of truck. If I ever need to escape. Which I won’t.

Fishing Boats Last Night