Lighthouses

The 1994 road trip

An Entire Coastline of Lighthouses

On my four-month 1994 road trip, I followed the Pacific coast for an enormous distance—driving the entire coast of Oregon, about half of Washington, and about half of California.

The lighthouses became natural stopping points along the way. I visited and climbed dozens of them, often taking the scenic route simply because another tower appeared on the map. Some stood on cliffs above roaring surf, while others watched over quieter coves and working harbors.

Oregon and Washington

The Long Pacific Edge

Oregon offered one lighthouse after another along a coast that never seemed to stop changing. There were sea stacks, headlands, fog, wind, pounding surf, and roads that constantly pulled me toward the next viewpoint.

Washington brought the same sense of wild coastline, but with its own mood—darker forests, colder water, broad headlands, and long stretches where the lighthouse felt like the natural destination at the end of the road.

California

Climbing Towers and Sleeping Beside Them

In California, the lighthouses continued south along the coast. I visited and climbed many of them during the 1994 trip, and stayed at both of California’s remarkable lighthouse hostels.

Those overnight stays made the experience even better. Instead of simply stopping for a photograph, I could spend the evening and morning surrounded by old station buildings, sea air, cliffs, and the sound of the Pacific.

Québec

A Summer Around the Gaspé Peninsula

One summer Marty and I traveled around the Gaspé Peninsula of Québec, following the shoreline where the St. Lawrence opens toward the Gulf. It was another landscape where lighthouses seemed inseparable from the communities and the coast. We spent another summer in Newfoundland and Labrador, where lighthouses were everywhere!

The routes brought fishing villages, rocky points, cold water, and long views across the river and gulf. As on the Pacific coast, each lighthouse became both a destination and a reason to keep exploring farther. 

Massachusetts coast

Cape Cod, Nantucket, and Martha’s Vineyard

Closer to home, Cape Cod, Nantucket, and Martha’s Vineyard offered a lifetime of lighthouse trips without requiring a cross-country drive.

I returned to the Cape many times, usually at least once every summer, explored both islands, and visited lights surrounded by dunes, beaches, old harbor towns, and ferry traffic. These trips made the lighthouses feel less like isolated landmarks and more like familiar companions.

Pescadero, California

Pigeon Point: A Night Beneath the Great Tower

Pigeon Point had the dramatic scale I always imagined when I thought about a classic Pacific Coast light station. The tall white tower rose above a collection of former station buildings that had been adapted into hostel accommodations. Because I was staying there rather than simply visiting, I could walk around the grounds in the quieter evening hours and watch the changing light over the ocean.

The setting was extraordinary: rugged cliffs, waves breaking far below, tide pools, seabirds, and a long view up and down the California coast. The hostel cottages made the old light station feel almost like a tiny coastal village. The cliffside hot tub was another unforgettable feature. Sitting in warm water beside the Pacific while one of the West Coast’s great lighthouses stood nearby was the kind of experience that could never be duplicated in an ordinary hotel.

Pigeon Point was first lit in 1872. Staying there connected my love of hostels, coastal road trips, maritime history, and lighthouses in one remarkable place. Long after the trip, what I remember most is the feeling of being able to slow down and actually inhabit the landscape rather than merely pass through it.

Provincetown, Massachusetts

Race Point: The Lighthouse Night I Kept Saving for Later

Race Point Lighthouse remains one of the clearest regrets from all my years of lighthouse travel. I visited the outer end of Cape Cod many times and checked out Race Point more than once. I knew that overnight stays were available in the restored keeper’s buildings, becaused I toured it many times, and every time I thought the same thing: someday I would come back and spend the night. I even joined the "Friends of..." group for several years.

It seemed so close and so achievable that there was never any urgency. Cape Cod was familiar. Provincetown was a place I always visited again and again. I assumed there would always be another summer, another weekend, and another chance to make the reservation. That is often how we postpone the experiences nearest to us—not because they matter less, but because we mistakenly believe they will always remain available.

I can still imagine what that night would have been like: traveling across the dunes, arriving at the isolated station, watching the day visitors disappear, and waking before sunrise with sand and ocean surrounding the keeper’s house. Race Point is located within the Cape Cod National Seashore, and its restored accommodations make it possible to experience the place as more than a daytime landmark.

The regret is sharper because I did stay at both California lighthouse hostels. I know how different a lighthouse feels after dark, when the parking lot empties and the coast becomes quiet. I am deeply grateful that I took those opportunities in California. But Race Point reminds me not to assume that 'someday' is a plan. Had I treated it with the same urgency, it might now be one of my favorite overnight memories. Maybe I'll get back there yet!