<p>Dogs are welcome in the fenced area of the miniature gold course.</p>

There is exactly one establishment in the world where I can eat gizzards while drinking Rainier as my old husky chases bumblebees at the same time I play miniature golf on a course gone lovely to seed with blackberry brambles as hazards.

That establishment is called the Jeffers Garden Inn, and its a modest blue building located along the Warrenton-Astoria Highway in a somewhat mysterious unincorporated area of Clatsop County known as Jeffers Garden. I say mysterious because in a cursory Google search of Jeffers Gardens history, I found only an 11-word entry on Wikipedia that contained no history. For some reason, I relish this sort of anonymity. I doubt the NSA even knows anything about this locale.

I would rate the Jeffers Garden Inn as one of the best eccentric coastal watering holes Ive ever encountered. I absolutely love the languid feel inside. And well, an unkempt miniature golf course on site is simply fantastic, unprecedented.

Betty Chilson has owned the Jeffers Garden Inn since 1979. It used to be called Marys Tavern, but I changed it because I was tired of being called Mary, she said. On July 3, the inn will celebrate its 35th anniversary, although Betty hasnt decided yet if she will hold a formal event. I would think informal would better suit this place very informal, like a clanging toast of Rainier cans and call it good.

As for the miniature golf course: In 1984 we put it in, said Betty, and then it later sort of got away from us. The rain may have done something to do with that, she said smiling. Although the course is delightfully dilapidated, Betty keeps putters and balls around for anyone interested in playing. No extra charge. Bring the dog, too.

The Jeffers Garden Inn caters to mostly local working people connected to the fishing trade and maritime industry. You know everyone who comes in, said Betty. Its a family. The menu features items such as the Belt Buster burger (half-pound beef patty, ham, bacon, eggs and cheese), a pastrami sandwich with Swiss cheese on rye, taco Wednesdays, homemade potato salad, gizzards for $3.75 and a Reuben sandwich that a visitor from New York City told Betty outdid the ones in New York City.

One time, back in the 1980s, two celebrities visited the Inn. Betty cant remember their names, and Im happy not knowing. Id rather imagine it was Andy Gibb and Victoria Principal on a coastal lark where no paparazzi would ever find them. Or perhaps Johnny Paycheck and Tanya Tucker after gigging the Clatsop County Fair.

Thankfully, the Jeffers Garden Inn does not serve liquor. The thought of someone taking a shot of Fireball or Puckers in here is beyond depressing. Many a good coastal tavern has been irretrievably ruined by the introduction of hard liquor. With booze comes more noise, more energy, more confrontations, more miscreants.

People come to the inn for the quiet and the molasses pace that I liken to making a call on a rotary telephone or typing a novel on a typewriter. Pretension does not, nor cannot, exist here. Sideburns are real sideburns. There isnt one local micro beer on tap. The inn does not take credit cards. Occasionally someone plays pool or the Oregon lottery games, but very slowly I might add. There is a daily copy of The Oregonian and The Daily Astorian to read over at protracted leisure. Ive never seen a customer on a smartphone. There is no Jeffers Inn Facebook page; there never will be. There is no Yelp review. I was the first Instagram user to #jeffersgardeninn, and now I deeply regret doing so.

Thirty-five years is a long time to own a tavern, but Betty doesnt seem ready to retire yet. Im not leaving here unless Im in a casket, she said.

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Matt Love is an author and frequent contributor to Coast Weekend. His books are available at coastal bookstores or at www.nestuccaspitpress.com