Layer Failure At Moonshine Park

The Very Observational Newsletter, Vol. 3

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📍 Field Report - Layer Failure At Moonshine Park

Living on the Oregon Coast, I have had to come to grips with its strange weather. For the majority of the year it sits between 40 and 58 degrees Fahrenheit. Whether it’s January or July, it’s usually in the 40s or upper 50s.

At first, I enjoyed this weather. Anywhere else in the United States gets HOT in the summer. Wisconsin, where I grew up, gets into the 100s. I can’t handle that type of heat.

I DIE!

In Newport, Oregon, most summer days require a sweater. I like to layer. Some people don’t, but me? I’m a layerer. You NEED to layer if you’re on the coast because one hour, rain and forty degrees, the next hour, fifty-eight and sun!

The cool summer weather only exists from the Pacific’s waterline to about five miles inland. Our apartment is only a quarter mile away from the Pacific, so we get the cooling effect year-round.

Moonshine Park

Last weekend, I made a stunning error in outdoor attire, all because we headed east to central, inland Lincoln County.

We had never been to a little riverside park named Moonshine Park the entire time we’ve lived here. It’s out past Siletz, up a long, long windy road that makes you feel like you’re in the movie, Deliverance. That said, we did get to see a herd of Scottish cattle which I had only seen in documentaries.

You have to respect the Scottish Cattle of the Siletz Valley!

K.L. Rockwell

had read that there is a waterfall at Moonshine Park so we HAD to go there. She cannot pass up a waterfall, even if it means hiking ten miles. I’d rather sit in the car and look at pictures of the waterfall on Google Maps than hike, so this place was a good middle ground. At least I thought it was.

It was a cool morning in Newport, as per usual, so I put on jeans, boots, a long-sleeved shirt, and denim jacket. It was still early April, so I erroneously thought that it would be cool, even inland.

It was not.

We got to the park and it must have been seventy degrees! For me, seventy degrees is shorts and sandals weather. Having slowly turned into a Coastie, I can’t abide the heat and seventy is definitely heat.

The park was a nice little place. You can camp there if you’re into that kind of thing, which I’m not. If it hadn’t been so dang hot, we probably would’ve made a fire in one of the fire rings. But not with heat like that!

So, there I stood, all dressed up, not properly layered for the severe heat, staring at a little waterfall. It was more of a runoff chute if you ask me, but people seem to like it.

K.L. Rockwell

and

Fineas Rockwell

seemed to enjoy staring at it. There were a couple of semi-naked people enjoying the water, which must have been like thirty degrees. But remember, weed is legal in Oregon.

When you visit the Oregon coast, you MUST layer appropriately. I broke all the rules. Sometimes, it’s difficult to layer in reverse. I often find myself standing in an eighty-degree vineyard wishing for death or a medically induced coma due to heat.

That day at Moonshine Park I couldn’t even enjoy the moonshine because just sitting in that heat meant I was sweating. I need cargo shorts and sandals to be happy in the Inland Empire of Lincoln County.

This area of Lincoln County was known for the strong, illegal liquor known as moonshine. These days, it’s mostly methshining. We saw a methshining grow room on our little drive.

190 proof moonshine coming down the mountainside. 🍸

🌊 Staring Into The Abyss

My novel, The Unexpected Exorcist, is almost complete. Ready to go. I know I’ve been saying this for a few weeks now. I won’t get into the weeds here, but we needed to make a few changes to publishing rights etc. Publishing can be quite maddening.

Disaster-Horror Novel Update

I’ve made it into the final stages of my disaster-horror novel’s first draft. The title is locked in and ready to be revealed next week. I can also tell you that it is set in Newport, Oregon. This book is bound to ruffle some sensitive Newportian feathers. (Spoiler alert: A tsunami is going to hit Newport.)

📚 Totally Recommended

For the past couple of weeks, we’ve had a streaming service called HBO MAX!

K.L. Rockwell

subscribed to watch The White Lotus season 3, but I’m not going to recommend that show because it’s super depressing.

For an upbeat show, I’ve found something much better called, The Pitt! It’s all about an emergency room called, “The Pitt”! That’s the slang term Noah Wyle uses to refer to his ER.

How dare they.

For all I knew, Brad Pitt had opened up his own branch hospital, or it was just a horrible place to work.

Turns out it’s named “The Pitt” because the hospital is located in Pittsburgh, PA, and the hospital is named, “Pittsburgh Hospital” (or something). Who would’ve guessed? I didn’t know people in Pittsburgh called their city, “The Pitt.” Honestly, it seems a bit on the nose, if you ask me.¹

Hypochondria and “The Pitt”

I have a condition known as: being a hypochondriac. I watched all of House, and whenever the weekly show was done, I would think I had some new and spectacularly rare disease for the next four days. Honestly, it’s not good for my mental health to watch these type of shows.

Like most Americans, I have ended up in the emergency room either for myself or a family member.

K.L. Rockwell

is there at least once a year.

As a hypochondriac, the emergency room is not the best place for me to be. I’ve seen all types of bloody messes while waiting to pass a kidney stone or be stitched for this or that. Once, I even saw a guy die at the emergency room.

Therefore, I have decided to watch all of The Pitt to desensitize me to emergency rooms. I don’t think it’s working and I have been experiencing incredibly intense nightmares about being at “The Pitt.”

(Who names shows these days??)

Unabashed Self-Promotion Alert! 🚨

If you’d like a signed paperback copy of The Unexpected Exorcist (once it’s ready sometime between now and the end of June 😹), consider becoming a paid subscriber. My memberships are on sale right now! Not only will you get a signed copy of the book, but also my undying gratitude.

That’s priceless. 💰

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1. I don’t believe people in Pittsburgh really call it, “The Pitt.” 😹😹