Netarts Spit stretches northward from the tiny fishing village of Netarts, a five-mile thread of sand anchoring the western edge of Netarts Bay. You'll park near the southern access and set out on foot across compact sand, the Pacific hammering the western flank while the bay spreads flat and silver to the east. Driftwood logs the size of telephone poles lie scattered in tangled piles, bleached bone-white by salt and sun. The air smells of kelp and wet sand, and harbor seals sometimes haul out on the tidal flats across the bay, dark commas against the mud.
“You walk the fragile boundary between ocean and estuary on a sand ribbon that rewrites its own geography each winter.”
Credit: PexelsTwo adults walking along Ocean Shores beach in Washington with waves crashing in the background.
The spit belongs to Oregon Islands National Wildlife Refuge at its northern tip, a protected nesting ground for snowy plovers and streaked horned larks. You'll need to turn back before reaching the closure signs, but the walk itself—sometimes two miles, sometimes four, depending on your ambition—rewards you with solitude that's increasingly rare on the Oregon coast. Storms reshape the spit every winter, carving new channels and piling fresh dunes.
Come in January and you'll watch gray whales spout offshore during their southern migration. Come in July and the bay warms enough for a brief, bracing swim. Whatever the season, bring layers: wind is the spit's constant companion, and the weather turns faster here than you'd expect.
