Put one of those fingers on each hand up...

So about a month or so ago, this 5 mile stretch to and from my regular riding loop was repaved in delicious new black asphalt. Butter. Beautiful. And as there were more than a few cracks and potholes the first time, it was like a whole new world. It meant on my weekly time 20 mile time trials, and my weekly 56 miler, I had a 10 mile stretch of sweetness to look forward to, especially the last 5 miles being smooth as silk. And since that stretch is kind of rolling, it made for pleasant climbs and screaming descents. All was right in my corner of Dane county.

Today I headed out on my time trial, with pretty much exactly an hour window with which to ride before other commitments came into my evening, and as I turn the corner to embark on the blacktop stretch...what the hell is this? The sonzabitchez went and slathered the whole damn thing with pea gravel. Well, I think, maybe it's just to the bottom of this hill. So, I ride my brakes down the hill to the stop sign, having to ride out into the lane where tire ruts have smoothed the gravel a bit - the shoulder, where I'm supposed to ride, is all mushy rocks.

It continues after the stop sign. Well, maybe it stops after the next, which would be okay because after that it's clear sailing for the next 4 miles. Well it didn't, and long story short, some bastards have ruined my road. It's totally worthless. I was in the small chain ring the whole time, just crawling along because my inch-wide tires are no match for loose gravel. My being relegated to the middle of the road made me the bane of every passing redneck, who passed me with loud honks and unfriendly gestures, each wishing for a Calvin peeing on xt4 sticker on their bumper. With each car that passed I was privy to a smattering of pellets across the bow, then a good minute or two of breathing in dust. It was awesome. At the end of the 5 miles it was time to turn around. I ended up going 12 pointless miles in an hour. Awesome.

I don't get it. RB? Can you explain the mindset of the inner sanctum of transportation officials who clearly do not consider the proficiencies of a bicycle when making these decisions? What's the point of the awesome blacktop if you're just going to puke all over it? So now I'm in a conundrum. I need a new way to get out my loop, because having nearly a fifth of my long ride route shot to hell isn't cool. It's also the corner where I stash my water to refill after the first loop. The whole shebang needs to be rearranged now, and my obsessive compulsiveness has barely enough room for life the way it is. Sigh.

Oh - and don't think it's lost on me that a few days ago I proclaimed myself Leader of the Spandex Cabal. And suddenly, mysteriously, they crap all over my road. All coincidence, I'm sure. Bastards!

Screw you guys, I'm going home.