Nearing home on the rising, curving single back-county lane of Daniels Run, a shape appeared and disappeared above the horizon of pavement, bobbing right then left, the bulk of this something hidden by the next hill my car would climb. I thought I was seeing things.
Reaching the crest, I thought I was seeing things.
A dude in his full Spandex Pointy-helmeted glory was speed-skating against traffic in the other lane, glancing casually over his shoulder as I passed heading uphill the same direction he was.
I didn’t look back to see what happened when the next oncoming car would have encountered him quite unexpectedly on a curve and just over the top of the hill.
But I did wonder how to submit a Darwin Awards nomination. And next pass down that road a few days later, I looked for his carcass in the ditch along with the bloated daily deer suicide victim. Unfortunately, his genes live on.