Razor clamming at Fort Stevens State Park
Joining an Oregon coastal tradition
Mike grew up clamming the California coast, though my first experience with that activity was chasing horseneck clams with him as a newlywed back in the 1980s. I can't say I loved digging in muddy sand in pursuit of the flaccid, phallic-looking critters, but I sure did enjoy the chowder and fried concoctions Mike made from them.
Razor clams were a new variety for both of us to try. When Doug and Carolyn, generational coastal Oregonians, invited us to camp with them and a group of friends who met annually at Ft. Stevens State Park to hunt for this elusive delicacy, we took them up on it.
The annual razor clam hunt was held the first weekend in June, a special event when no licenses were required and camping was free at Oregon state parks.
Mike and I packed up our trailer and rolled out to join the group at Fort Stevens State Park, where the tip of the state meets the mighty Columbia River.
Mike has "found his people" now that we're in Oregon. He blends perfectly with the white bearded fishermen in their flannels and hip waders, and he’s made new friends through volunteering at the nearby salmon fish hatchery.
Though less enthused about clamming in general, I was game to try. I do love any activity that takes place on the beach, and the beach at Fort Stevens is 18 miles long. (!)
We rolled into the park after driving up the coast through a series of oceanside towns, busy withsummer tourist traffic. The campground at Fort Stevens, which we had visited before during our long road trip, was much fuller than I remembered.
Of course, the day’s social plan involved getting up at 5:30 in the morning and being down at the beach upon a receding tide before dawn. Fortunately, we got a good night’s sleep and we ready to roll on time. Sipping hot coffee from a thermos mug, our SUV “the Pearl” in four-wheel-drive, we roared along the sand past the beached shipwreck, following the taillights of Doug's F350 Ford Super Duty (which seemed to be the ultimate Oregonmobile for those towing campers, at least.)
Dawn clouds skirled up, rising above the dunes and lighting the day with peach, rose, and salmon reflections.
Doug, representing the third generation of his family to come to Ft. Stevens for the annual clam dig, chose a spot based on some interior wisdom and parked. We did too, and I let Koa out. My fuzzy little German spitz was delighted to be at the beach, his favorite place. He romped and twirled on the pale sugarlike sand as we gathered our gear.
“Better keep him in the car,” Carolyn said, her silver curls lit by early morning. “See the eagle?” She pointed to a bald eagle nearby, big and deadly-looking, standing so still on the beach that I hadn’t noticed him. “They’re everywhere down here during the dig, looking for easy pickings. One of them wouldn’t hesitate to carry Koa off. I never let our dogs out for that reason.” She indicated a pair of snow-white Bichon Frises standing with their hind feet on the seat and paws on the armrest of the truck, their noses against the window as they yapped at us longingly.
“That’s not something I’m used to worrying about!” I called Koa and put him back in the SUV (windows cracked and water present, of course—it was fifty degrees so overheating wasn’t a worry.)
Soon we were stomping in our waders out to the low-tide edge of the immense beach, Mike equipped with a clam gun and me with a short, narrow clamming spade.
The beach was crowded (for Oregon) with clammers and trucks, but a holiday feeling reigned and people were friendly and helpful. I paired up with one of the other wives from our group, a woman named Toni who had an eye for spotting clam-sign. Already limiting out (each person was allowed fifteen) within an hour, Toni took me in hand, helping me spot where the elusive critters were burrowed deep in the tidal flats.
“Look for a donut shape in the sand,” she said. “Usually about the size of a quarter. If you have a question about the donut, press on the sand beside it with your shoe and if the clam reacts with movement, you’ve got a good one.”
Finding the donut-shaped marks was challenging enough, but digging the clams out was much more so. I broke the friggin’ digging spade within an hour by shoving it too deep into wet sand and trying to pry it up.
The tool of choice turned out to be a “clam gun,” a section of PVC pipe with cap on one end, a hole you could cover with a finger to create suction, and a handle for pulling.
Once you found a clam, you worked the pipe section into the sand over its location, wiggling it back and forth until it was as deep as possible. Then you covered the hole on the “gun,” creating suction to keep the wet sand (and hopefully the clam) inside the tube. You then pulled the tube up and released the sand (and clam) out, on the side of your hole. Rinse and repeat until clam was caught.
(In gym terms, this is like doing a 2-5 deep squat pulls with a thirty pound weight each time you go after a clam. Never let it be said they made it easy; as soon as the mollusks sensed a change in their surroundings, they dug deeper and most of them evaded me.)
Afterward, back at camp, Mike would clean our catch (a very slippery and slimy undertaking) while I’d fix a plate of bacon in the trailer.
Equipped with crispy bacon and fresh grease, Mike fried up some of the clams rolled in spicy corn coating. The pictures don’t show how tasty as this actually was, especially with tartar or cocktail sauce. Yummy, and worth all the hard work!
Fort Stevens State Park also has the most terrific biking. There are nine MILES of gorgeous paved trails meandering through the park and the old fortifications, as well as a top-notch frisbee golf course. The 3,700-acre (15 km2) area includes camping, beach access, swimming, and a military history museum.
As of 2019, Ft. Stevens was the eighth busiest park in the state's system with 1,197,738 visitors that year—and probably a lot of them where there for the annual razor clam dig!
This large Oregon state park boasts full hook up campsites, primitive and electrical sites, yurts, and deluxe cabins; most are pet friendly. Even if you’re not there for clamming, there’s always something to do in Fort Stevens State Park!
When all was said and done, I highly recommend this calorie-burning coastal workout.
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How about you? Ever gone clamming before?
I grew up in the 60s and 70s digging razor clams every summer with my parents and grandparents at Ocean Shores and Copalis Beach in Washington. Lots of good memories. I have also visited Fort Stevens and it is a lovely place.
I love Ft. Stevens! Such a beautiful area. I enjoy eating razor clams but I’m happy to leave the digging to others lol! Looks like you had perfect weather for the event