Some people read tea leaves. I read the the road: leaves, spilled paint, bubbles in the asphalt, discarded clothing, manhole covers, highway flotsam and jetsam... The practice probably says something about the loneliness of long-distance bicycle riders. The signs today were especially confusing...maybe it was the rain..., I was about to say “clearly confusing,” but a little old English teacher still alive and kicking somewhere inside me said I really shouldn’t keep playing with myself like that, so... I’ll just show you.