I was toddling along on a local road minding my own business when Michigan's equivalent of the Tour de France came from the other direction. There was no dividing line but had there been I'd have been comfortably to the right if it. The road was smooth all the way across with no (a rarity here) potholes, so there was no need to favor any part of it. Still, the cyclists rode the imaginary center line almost as if to try to push me further right. No thanks, you arrogant spandex warriors. I'm staying right where I am. Don't spit on me or my car or smack us with your air pumps. Driving through a swarm of bugs might have been preferable.