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136 Posts
They finally got around to ruining my commute to work. I have always been lucky enough to enjoy a hill climb up a 17% grade with twisties and switchbacks that just happened to be right on my path to work any day of the week. Early in the week the signs show up announcing that chip seal is going on the 24th-25th. Ok, so the road is never going to be the same, it will be absolutely undriveable for two weeks, so I better get my last hurrah coming home from work. Coincidentally, the wife decides to ride 2-up for our car pool, something she almost never chooses to do.
So now I'm coming home after dinner out, and it's about 7:15. The signs on the road announce oil and rock on the roadway, but since they had previously announced the work wouldn't begin until today, I thought the work crews had simply set up the signs before going home for the night. That was my mistake.
Halfway down the hill I come off of a turn with the sun in my eyes, not blazing but not going nearly as slow as I would be if I expected to hit loose gravel, and, well, you know what happened. A very tense handful of seconds of profanity and sphincter tightening on a steep downhill. The story ends happily enough - no traffic in the oncoming lane into which I had to drift, no dropped bike or locked up tires or sliding - but I didn't let on to the wife just how close we came to fubar.
Just one more reason to hate that stupid road surface from hell. It's not just the side streets any longer. My county is covering everything but the most heavily traveled routes in it. It's bad enough for the riders, but my other two wheeled transportation can't be used on it at all, even after they sorta sweep up the debris. I'm not sure keeping the gas tax down a nickel is worth it.
So now I'm coming home after dinner out, and it's about 7:15. The signs on the road announce oil and rock on the roadway, but since they had previously announced the work wouldn't begin until today, I thought the work crews had simply set up the signs before going home for the night. That was my mistake.
Halfway down the hill I come off of a turn with the sun in my eyes, not blazing but not going nearly as slow as I would be if I expected to hit loose gravel, and, well, you know what happened. A very tense handful of seconds of profanity and sphincter tightening on a steep downhill. The story ends happily enough - no traffic in the oncoming lane into which I had to drift, no dropped bike or locked up tires or sliding - but I didn't let on to the wife just how close we came to fubar.
Just one more reason to hate that stupid road surface from hell. It's not just the side streets any longer. My county is covering everything but the most heavily traveled routes in it. It's bad enough for the riders, but my other two wheeled transportation can't be used on it at all, even after they sorta sweep up the debris. I'm not sure keeping the gas tax down a nickel is worth it.