Days 18 - 20: Reba's 2026 Adventure

Oysters, Offspring, and One Very Dirty Comforter

Where a detour becomes the whole point

There’s a moment in every great road trip where the carefully curated itinerary gets crumpled up and tossed out Reba’s window at 65 miles per hour. For us, that moment arrived when our youngest son Jonah (who lives in Vancouver and was supposed to meet us at one of our reserved parks) got tapped to cover the duties of an inspector at his company who had unexpectedly passed away. Jonah was needed in Long Beach, and he wasn’t getting time off.

So what do dedicated parents do? They point Reba east and drive. No hesitation. No debate. See you soon, baby boy.

Raymond, WA — The (First) Oyster Capital of the World

Our newly rerouted journey dropped us first into Raymond, Washington, a town that carries its shellfish pride like a badge of honor. According to the local historian (a former high school principal, because of course he is) the Willoughby River permits no industrial interference of any kind. No factories, no pollution, no nonsense. Just the shellfish industry, doing its quiet, briny, beautiful thing. The result? Allegedly the best-tasting oysters on the planet.

Bold claim, Raymond. Bold claim.

We explored the local historical museum and a genuinely stunning historic courthouse before making our way to the main event: Goose Point Shellfish Farm and Oystery on Willapa Bay River. We sampled large oysters and smoked oysters. Todd was immediately team smoked; loved every bite. I, however, will just say that particular flavor profile and I did not reach an agreement, and we left it at that. No hard feelings, smoked oysters.

Long Beach: The (Second) Oyster Capital of the World

You really can’t make this up.

Jonah took us to Oysterville; a town that, by virtue of literally having “oyster” in its name, feels it has the strongest claim yet on the coveted World Oyster Capital title. The rivalry is apparently real, deeply local, and completely delightful.

We ate small oysters, shrimp, and a full glorious seafood spread at the Oyster Seafood Market right on the Pacific Coast. Decidedly delicious. No notes. Five stars. Raymond who?

Next came Pacific Pines State Park, where we bravely attempted a coastal walk and were on our way in, we were immediately reminded that mosquitoes in the Pacific Northwest do not play around. These things would give Minnesota mosquitoes a legitimate run for the blood-sucker title belt. Fortunately and this is not my first rodeo — I had bug spray in my trusty backpack. Crisis averted, dignity preserved for one and all.

We also wandered through Long Beach’s charming little shops, where Sassy once again received the adoration she has come to expect as her absolute minimum. The people of Long Beach, it must be said, have excellent taste. Still no confirmed Bigfoot sightings, though. We remain vigilant. 

The Part That Mattered Most

I’ll be honest with you. We could have skipped every oyster, every shop, every mosquito-riddled boardwalk and this stretch of the trip would still have been worth every mile.

Jonah is our youngest. Seeing him, even briefly, even in the middle of his busy professional life; it filled something up. I couldn’t hug him enough. And letting go, both literally when we said goodbye and figuratively as we watched him disappear in the rearview mirror, was genuinely hard. The kind of hard that reminds you how much you love someone.

We are so grateful for every single minute.

Astoria, Goonies, and the Road Back North

The bridge out of Long Beach is massively long, dramatic, and worthy of a dramatic travel montage. It dropped us into Astoria, Oregon, the legendary filming location of The Goonies. The town wears its vintage soul openly and proudly. The iconic Liberty Theater is still standing, still gorgeous, and still very much giving main character energy.

From there, we looped back up to Vancouver, Washington to take a proper look at the city where Jonah calls home. It’s clean, thoughtful, and unmistakably art-centric; the kind of place where a beautiful riverfront walking path and a classic downtown square feel less like amenities and more like a philosophy. Good city, Jonah. 

Battle Ground — Brews, Antiques, and a Guardian Angel

Our final stop before camp was Battle Ground, Washington; a quaint little town with a handful of vintage and antique shops that could easily swallow an afternoon. My personal favorite discovery? Their local brewery. The craft beer selection was genuinely impressive, and I say that as someone with opinions about craft beer.

We settled in for the night at Battle Ground State Park, just a short half hour away. It was a picturesque little gem of a campground where we grilled chicken, toasted s’mores over the campfire, and exhaled.

It was in this peaceful moment, scrolling through our socials by firelight, that we learned Glacier National Park (which we had visited less than two weeks ago) was now under flood evacuations. The Road to the Sun was closed.

We sat quietly with that for a moment.

It’s bittersweet to hear. We love that park and it hurt to think of it under those conditions. But mostly? We felt an overwhelming wave of gratitude. We were there. We walked it, breathed it, got ourselves into a couple of mild adventures along the way and we made it out just fine. Things have a way of working out for us on this trip. I’ve come to believe that’s not entirely coincidence. I think my mom has something to do with it, watching over us from wherever guardian angels park themselves. Thanks, Mom.

Morning Plans vs. Dog Reality

We had every intention of biking the next morning. Truly. The bikes were ready. The trail was waiting. Nature was calling.

And then one of the dogs answered a different kind of call. On the comforter. During the night. I couldn't really blame them as someone started their 4th of July fireworks early and this resulted in the puppies barricading themselves in Reba for the night. No last potty break.

We love them anyway; unconditionally, helplessly, sometimes exasperatedly. We packed up the comforter and pointed Reba toward the nearest laundromat instead of the nearest trailhead. Such is life. Such is travel. Such is dog ownership.

Next up: Crater Lake National Park, Oregon. 

We’re officially bidding farewell to Washington state, and what a state it’s been. The oysters, the coast, the son we squeezed too tight, the campfires and the breweries and the mosquitoes and the comforter incident.

Washington, you were good to us. 🐚🌲🦟

— Reba rolls on.