My expression when realizing I was on a mountain bike trail

Took a break from my bike ride to spend part of the weekend with Korey Jackson, a friend from the digital scholarly publishing world, who lives on the outskirts of Corvallis, Oregon. So far on the outskirts, in fact, that Google Maps directed me down a mountain bike trail to reach his house. While my rig can handle most stone dust roads and dirt trails, this one had so much loose gravel, steep grades, and barbed wire fences that I had to walk about half of the 3-mile trail. It was a hot and dusty way to end a 6-hour ride.

Fortunately, Korey is an excellent host and culinary guide. He has a particular knack for locating excellent food inside what on the outside looks like a dive bar. The most interesting find of the weekend was The Woodsman, an old bar in the lumber mill town of Philomath, which also happens to serve enormous portions of some of the best-tasting Thai food in all of my travels. Who would have thunk it?

My host Korey, with the largest chain saw I’ve ever seen inside a Thai restaurant.