Drifting southward along the edge of Willapa Bay on U.S. Highway 101 — the coast route, coast highway, or, to those who’ve traveled north from California, “the 101” — mark the distance by crossing rivers and sloughs.

Beyond South Bend, Washington is the Bone River, then the Niawiakum and the Palix, before the road meets a turnoff toward the oystering town of Bay Center.

In the west, lights appear from the distant northern shores of the Long Beach Peninsula. Crossing the forks of the Nemah River, drivers parallel the peninsula towns of Oysterville and Ocean Park. Just a few more turns to reach Seaview and Ilwaco, then cross into Oregon.

U.S. Highway 101 is that rare instance of a road that is also a destination. To take the coast route through Clatsop County is to wrap around steep headlands and stoic sea stacks, to tunnel through mountainsides, cross wide rivers and slow time breathing in the ocean air.

It’s this dramatic landscape that took road builders and advocates well into the 20th century before crossing the Columbia River — completing the final link in the Oregon Coast Highway and establishing a continuous road connecting the U.S. Pacific coastline.

Beach drivers

By the 1910s, railroad lines had connected inland cities like Portland and Salem to several popular coastal destinations. Early trains met riverboats along the Columbia River, bound for Ilwaco, Nahcotta and Seaside.

Railroads were relied on by shellfish growers, loggers and, especially after direct routes began to run from Portland, sightseers.

Families bound for the cottages of Seaside and Elk Creek (the latter’s name changed to Cannon Beach in 1922) often stayed for months, lingering through the summer to escape inland heat. Many brought carriages or early cars along.

Some of the earliest stretches of what would become the Oregon Coast Highway stretched south from Astoria. A wooden plank route linked the city to Warrenton.

Farther south, passages like the Elk Creek Toll Road, where travelers crossed Tillamook Head after fording the Necanicum River, evolved from narrow footpaths, many of which had long been used by the Clatsop and Tillamook people.

Still, even with developing roads, coastal towns remained isolated — separated by waterways, mountains and difficult terrain. Often the most practical route between them was to walk or drive along the beach, which involved the risk of encountering rogue waves, shifting sands and obstacles.

Headlands like Hug Point, which got its name from the close travel required by “hugging the point” at low tide, posed further challenges.

But the wide and densely-packed sands were still a reliable route to travel between isolated towns.

In 1913, this led Oswald West, then governor of Oregon and chair of the newly-formed Oregon State Highway Commission, which would later become the Oregon Department of Transportation, to establish Oregon’s beaches as public highways.

This gesture, further preserved in the 1960s with the passing of the Oregon Beach Bill, continues to ensure public access to the state’s beaches up to the high tide line.

Winding roads

Maj. Henry Bowlby, hired by the commission as Oregon’s first state highway engineer, was among the first to imagine how a coast road might look.

Bowlby’s proposed plan involved a network of five state roads, including one that promised to connect the shorelines of neighboring states, which he called the Oregon Beach Highway.

Over the years, what eventually became U.S. Highway 101 was known by various earlier names.

In 1919, the road became the Roosevelt Coast Military Highway, named for Theodore Roosevelt by early advocate Benjamin Jones. Following calls for a military highway along the edge of the Pacific, Jones successfully sought support for the route from the state’s voters.

The first segment of the new highway in Oregon opened two years later, connecting Coos Bay and Coquille, but progress remained slow.

Much of the remaining route — over 350 miles — would have to be carved out of dense rock and old-growth forests. In these places, landslides were common, work was often suspended over the winter months and some supplies had to be brought in by boat.

By 1927, a road along the coast connected Astoria to Tillamook, but with a notable interruption.

South of the Necanicum River, near Seaside, the route turned inland, taking a route similar to U.S. Highway 26 toward Portland and overland via what is now Oregon Highway 53.

To access summer cottages in Cannon Beach, travelers had to descend Tillamook Head on a county road with 111 hairpin turns. With few turnouts, drivers over the headland would stop every 100 feet or so to call out for other motorists for safety before moving on.

Until the Arch Cape Tunnel connected the road in 1940, the spur route ended abruptly at the cape.

On the south side of that headland, Neah-Kah-Nie Mountain posed more challenges for construction. Highway engineers were faced with the difficult task of carving out a narrow road from near-vertical basalt cliffs, hundreds of feet above the sea.

In doing so, they worked with the terrain to preserve views for motorists. A decision was made to leave a rocky outcropping on the west side of the road. Safety additions like stone work kept in mind the aesthetic appeal of a scenic byway, and turnouts were added to give motorists a place to stop and rest.

Construction work on the Neah-Kah-Nie Mountain section was done primarily by workers in the Works Progress Administration, a Depression-era federal employment program.

With the completion of that section, the Oregon Coast Highway became a continuous link — and put Cannon Beach on the main route, a milestone celebrated by the town.

However, it was not until several years later, in 1949, that drivers over Tillamook Head were relieved of the road’s harrowing turns.

Crossing rivers

On a clear day, the ferry trip across the Columbia River, between Astoria’s 14th Street landing and a dock near the town of Megler, Washington, was a 30-minute trip.

Aboard the M.R. Chessman, introduced in 1947 as the largest of the river ferries, passengers chose between breakfast and lunch options that included cinnamon toast and coffee (35 cents), oyster stew (75 cents) and “double rich” milkshakes (30 cents).

The M.R. Chessman carried up to 44 vehicles and 400 passengers between Astoria and Point Ellice, near Megler, Washington. The new ferry was joined by Tourist No. 2 and Tourist No. 3, among others.

But despite daily sailings on the half-hour, the ferry fleet struggled to keep up with long lines in the summer months.

By the time the M.R. Chessman began ferrying drivers, U.S. Highway 101 had been completed through the length of the Oregon Coast. The ferry was a stop along an otherwise continuous road.

Conde B. McCullough, an Oregon state bridge engineer, had completed the Old Youngs Bay Bridge, one of the first along the coast, in 1921, the same year that ferries began crossing the Columbia.

McCullough’s Lewis and Clark River bridge followed in 1924, as did a bridge that replaced ferry service across the Naselle River in Washington.

Through the early 1930s, concrete spans designed by McCullough stood in for ferries that once ran across the Rogue River, Alsea Bay and others. By 1936, just one bridge remained to be built.

It would take another three decades, but in late July of 1966, the last ferry arrived in Megler, Washington, and at 4 miles long, the Astoria Bridge — the largest continuous truss bridge in North America — linked the coast road between Oregon and Washington.