Life's a...Coast?

Native Southern Idea of Beach

Recently I've come across quite a few quizzes on Facebook and such about "Which Beach Town Should You Move To?" These quizzes are a bit silly, but they also reveal something about our nation's preconceptions, simplifications and regional predilections. I, who live on the West Coast, took the quiz and my results said I should live in Wrightsville Beach, NC. My mom, who lives in Coastal South Carolina, and has always said that the beach was on the wrong side on the West Coast, got Carpentaria, California. I highly encourage you to Which Coast town should you live in? yourself and see if you agree with your results. 

I've just gotten back from a weekend camping at Beverly Beach State Park, and I'm also watching all the updates from my Southern friends playing at their respective beaches. Virtues about but they're mutually exclusive.

As a Southerner, I have to talk about this Beach vs. Coast terminology. And not just that, but the behavior that goes along with those terms. They are not exchangeable. The Pacific Northwest and the Southeastern interchange between land and ocean are so dramatically, drastically different. We cannot apply the same mores to each one. Indeed, we need to acknowledge them for the delightful and attractive attributes each can lay claim to. PNW it's the coast; SE it's the beach. 

Water Temperature

The Pacific is cold. One only gets in the water when one has on a wet suit. Little children, oblivious

Yeah, that's cold. It's August. 

to irrationally cold temperatures will delight in the tide pools. Their sweet mamas and papas will wrap them up in a warm blanket before too long. 

In the summer months, the Atlantic is bathtub warm. It's so darn hot, that that bathtub temperature alleviates the hotness of the air. It's wet, and one can dive beneath the surface or splash oneself on a float whilst drinking a cool libation. In a coozie. In fact, staying in the water from shortly after breakfast all the way until sundown is more or less the sign of a well tempered day. There may be a break for lunch, but not necessarily. 

Inland Ambient Coastal Temperature

My family lives on a tidal river in South Carolina. It's hot in the summer, and one can go down to the dock and just lay in a raft in the river all day. But when we really want to cool off, we take a trip to the beach. We plan week long stays at the beach. Growing up in Atlanta, going to school in Winston-Salem and Athens, living in Charlotte—what did we do in the summer when it was hot? Go to the beach. Where it was only slightly cooler. The first beach houses I remember staying at on Edisto Beach did not have air conditioning. We packed big window box fans in the car and put them in the windows at night. I can still remember the sound of rustling palm tree branches and the whirr of the fan. Somniferous. We were sunburnt and kicked the top sheet off, exhausted from the day's exertions we slept. 

Honestly, this is the hardest thing I've ever had to wrap my head around. It's just so contradictory for me. I drove from Carlton, Oregon, (in the confines of the Willamette Valley) to Lincoln City—about an hour and half a way. The temperature dropped by 40 degrees. No kidding. I was cold. I had to put on long pants and ... no, I had to put on almost all the clothing I packed with me. It was 55 degrees and I bought two bundles of firewood. I went out on the beach to watch the sunset, and I had to leave fairly quickly as the golden orb approached the horizon. I've worn the same manner of clothing in February at the beach as in August. Does not compute in my Southern brain. This is a COAST not a BEACH.

Coastal versus Beach Activities

That's some beauty (with sweaters in August)

Maybe it's my Southern superiority coming over me. I don't know. I want an Oregonian to explain this to me. Why, when it's 63 degrees and party cloudy, pretty much misty, are children, teenagers, grown adults wearing bikinis and bathing suits, playing frisbee, in general gallivanting as if it's warm and they're not uncomfortable? You don't need sunscreen! There's a layer of coastal fog hanging over the coast that's impenetrable. Bathing suits should be banned from the Oregon Coast. They don't belong. You can't get a tan and you're not bathing. Period. 

Beach combing is an activity that I condone for both coasts. In the South we find fossilized bones, shark's teeth and lovely shells. In the Pacific Northwest, we find gorgeous stones, drift wood and sedimentary fossils washed down from the cliffs. 

PNW has the unsurpassed awe inspiring beauty of the Pacific Ocean. The ability to build and enjoy a fire in humidity-free peace also endears me to the left coast. However, I will continue to have my feathers ruffled when folks out here say they're going to the beach. No. You're going to the coast. (Northerners can have their own opinions of The Shore—whatever that means). Maybe I'm just feeling a little homesick. I'd sure like to be sitting in a lounge chair, smelling of sunscreen, drinking a coldie and reading a good book. At any moment I'll rise up, stride to the surf, lounge back in the salt water and feel buoyed up by the salty embrace of the Atlantic Ocean. 

That's a salty, loving embrace at Edisto Beach, SC. My Grandparents are awesome!