Riding in the local hills

This morning I was going thru some old notes I made to myself after a longish bike ride in the local hills. Here's a note that sort of stood out for me.

Whenever I am doing a climb up a long grade, I notice many things that might not be picked up by someone driving a car. You see, it's like this. There are a significant number of drivers and motorcycle riders who like to use these curvy roads for thrills. They use the road as though it was their own private Laguna Seca.
It is said that good judgment comes from wisdom and wisdom comes from bad judgment. I see clear and striking evidence of this in my rides in the hills. There will be patches of road with dark skid marks running oblique to the direction of the road. The skid marks often lead up to a section of a brand new guardrail with brand new posts. More typically, however, the skid marks end at a misshapen guardrail with several bent and distorted posts.
Like tea leaves at the bottom of a cup, the road and the dirt near the guardrails will be stained with oil and littered with pieces of chrome, glass, and plastic. The story here can be easily read by even the most illiterate.
I try to quicken my pace away from this transient archive of bad judgment when I hear from somewhere behind me the increasing pitch of an accelerating engine from the approaching vehicle. History has a way of repeating itself.