My friend was a real piece of sh*t

 The road makes strange comrades. I've written before about micro landmarks. Micro landmarks are those little things that a cyclist will notice because we scrutinize the road closely for hazards, and we're generally traveling much slower than a motorist piloting a two-ton sensory deprivation tank. You can develop an odd affection for some of this detritus.

Sometime around early June, I was riding home on Elm Street when I noticed a small pile of what I guessed was raccoon feces sitting in the lane. I based my identification on the caliber and content, and the tendency of many animals to leave poop piles to mark their territory and their routes through it.

This poop led a charmed life. It had been deposited in exactly the right position for cyclists to pass to the right of it and motorists to straddle it. Also, we had very little rain this summer, and almost none of it was heavy. Even when we did get a downpour, the poop must have set up enough to resist the deluge.

All of June passed. I started to feel some admiration for the little shit. As July followed, the poop's survival took on a supernatural quality. It diminished a little in size, and showed signs of some glancing tire tracks, but remained a three-dimensional presence as summer matured into August.

Onward the season fled, and the poop remained. My bike commuting days were winding down as the sunset encroached, and still the little turd stood its ground. As one little shit to another, I saluted its persistence.

October marks the end of daily practical bike commuting. Short hours on Sunday have allowed me to get that one day a week on the bike, but when the clocks change on November first that will end. Last Sunday I noticed that the poop had finally been reduced to a flat stain. Whether from natural forces, a direct hit from a motor vehicle, or some combination, its time was finally ending. From the car, I can't even discern where it was. This Sunday I will get one final slow flyover to see what's left.

Farewell, you little shit. You were one strange inspiration.