Many years ago, when The Logging Road Cyclist could still “move like a stud”, he used to do a lot of gym workouts. Weights mostly. One summer’s day, he was heading from Dixon Rec Center to his home in the Harding district wearing his usual gym garb: Dolphin shorts, tank top, vintage Vuarnet glacier glasses (cf. Hiatus Interruptus), Diskman (yes, it was that long ago). TLRC was bearded back then. He looked good, if thuggish.
TLRC had crossed Harrison from Arnold and was standing at the NW corner of the intersection when he noticed a little kid, say 4-5 years old, heading W on Harrison on the other side of the street. TLRC looked all around and saw no accompanying adult. Catching the eye of a woman motorist stopped at the light, he could see her concern too. Mouthing that he would look into it, TLRC and the woman nodded at each other, and then he trotted across the intersection (yes, it was long enough ago that one could do that at that intersection) to see what was up with the kid.
TLRC caught up with the kid, took off his sunglasses, knelt:
Hey, there, where’re you heading? To Gwandmas’. What’s your name? Hawwis. My name’s TLRC, where’s Gwandmas’? Over that way (points generally NW). Yeah, but where? Up on the hill, there. But, Hawwis, that’s about 6 miles away, you can’t walk that far (TLRC deciding that lying was called for here), where do you live? My mom hates me, I’m wunning away fwom home. Hawwis, look, you’re too little to run away from home, you can’t do that until you’re like 16 or something, what if you ran into someone who wasn’t nice like TLRC, here, or the police came or something, where do you live, anyway? My mom hates me, I’m wunning away fwom home….
Similar dialogue followed for another 5 mintues or so until TLRC managed to persuade Hawwis that his best option was to go hime in spite of his hateful Mom, and to bide his time until he (Hawwis) was a teenager before trying to run away from home. TLRC had an embarrassing memory of doing that at about Hawwis’ age and being humiliated, when upon returning from what TLRC figured was a considerable absence, his father said calmly “where have you been?”, thus robbing TLRC of the catharsis he was seeking, and TLRC thought that he might spare Hawwis the same fate.
Taking Hawwis by the hand TLRC and he sauntered up Arnold and up the steps of the nicely kept house Hawwis said was home. TLRC knocked. The door opened, revealing a 30-ish typically Corvallis type of of mom. She looked at TLRC, obviously wondering WTF?Then her eyes slid down to Hawwis, and she looked back up to TLRC, this time revealing a whiff of panic in her eyes. Again, WTF, but this time WTF is this guy doing here holding my kid by the hand? Hi, TLRC said, my name is TLRC, and Hawwis says he lives here, is that so? Yes. Then you must be his Mom, I (TLRC) found him heading down Harrison heading to Grandma’s. But that’s… (Here TLRC looks her in the eye and says) Yes, about 6 miles, much to far for a little boy to walk alone. Yesssss, she says about 6 miles. He says you hate him? Mom looks guilty here: We had a fight, he had been bad and I sent him to his room and that’s where he was… Yes, said TLRC, when he ran away from home, because you hate him. At this point Mom get’s TLRC’s schtick and says to Hawwis, come on inside honey, looks up at TLRC, smiles, and thanks him profusely.
TLRC has often walked past that house on Arnold and thought about going up and seeing if Hawwis did run off as a teenager, if that bomb TLRC had so delicately planted had gone off. TLRC never did, though, but try as he might, TLRC has never, ever been able to go out to Hawwis Covered Bwidge without saying it that way in honor of his little buddy.
TLRC and his buddy D. hadn’t ridden much together this summer, and instead of the usual overbearing ride selection process (D., TLRC is going to ride X. Wanna go?), D. said he had a ride in mind and would TLRC like to go. TLRC didn’t even hesitate before he said yes.
This ride sort of circumnavigates the area in which the Mudslinger and Test of Endurance races are held and is a good introduction to the area. Ride this, and once you start exploring the interior, you’ll know where you are when you pop out on some main road.
D. was all fired up this morning. Besides his usual coffee and generally upbeat nature, it was a stunning Fall day. Even the clear cuts looked good (fortunately; there are lots around here). D. had been out hunting all around here the day before and was stoked to go ride around and tell TLRC where we had to go. The main result of all these high spirits was that D. was continually nagging TLRC to take pictures of stuff. TLRC (not really a control freak as the X-wives claimed) was cool, deemed D. Website Art Director, and thus the unusally high density of pictures herein.
The ride starts at HCB. TLRC and D. parked across the street from the winery in the spot where it says you’ll be towed in 15 minutes (D. simply scoffed at TLRC’s concern about parking enforcement). There is a big log section cut out from a branch of a giant Doug Fir that still stands nearby.
The paper labels point to the rings that were formed (from the outside in) when Lindbergh flew the Atlantic (1929), Lincoln was assassinated (1865) and the Declaration of Independence (you guess).
Cwossing the Bwidge, one proceeds on Hawwis Woad past the perpetually alert Bwuiser:
Climbing over the ridge beyond Bruiser, one arrives at the new bridge (replacing that washed out a couple of years ago). They shipped this one in one piece from over Scio way.
Apparently, some locals are champing at the bit to git her built:
At the intersection with Tum Tum Rd., turn left and head up the big hill to Woods Cr. Rd. and enjoy the views:
The route then heads down Woods Cr. and some fun single track and an easy climb over the Woods Cr.- Mary’s River divide leads to a pleasant road along the river.
The riverside road gets back to Harris Rd. Cross the bridge, climb back up over the hill past Bruiser, and you’re done. A nice moderate ride with some interesting touches. Find the ride here.