It was a 1997 Benchmark Atlas of Oregon that brought me to Toledo the first time. My friend Brendan was babysitting his mother's convertible so we decided to head out to the beach "the long way." The long way, in this case turned out to be a series of logging roads and two-tracks that looked much more passable in my atlas. We were so close to the bay there at Toledo that we could smell the mill, but someone had blocked the road with an earthen berm. After high-centering on said berm because we were 22-year-old college studens that didn't know any better, we walked down to Toledo and flagged down the first pickup we saw to help us get unstuck. I'm always getting a car stuck somewhere, and each time it seems that I find the same stereotypical logger-type person to help out. He sighs, shakes his head, tells me how much of an idiot I am, and then won't take any money for his troubles. Every town in Oregon with a population of less than 3000 must have like a dozen of those guys.
Toledo Mayor Rod Cross is, as he put it, difficult to get in contact with during basketball season. After a couple of emails and a few phone calls to City Hall, I luckily met him in Salem at the OMA and he autographed our map.
13 down, 229 to go.
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