It happens

After a couple of phone calls to the Milwaukee folks I determined my services weren't needed for the weekend. I decided to stay in Madison and ride locally. Well, maybe locally isn't correct. I went to Stoughton this morning to join in the 9am Bombay ride to Illinois and back. I arrived 10 minutes late to lot with only 4 cars. Since there were no cue sheets I struck out on my own southward. After Edgerton and skirting Janesville I noticed it was a little after 11 so I turned the ship around and took what I thought was a parallel route back. You'll notice My route looks like a figure 8. I was rolling along happily with a tail wind when I noticed an Interstate 90 overpass just ahead. I said "dammit" loudly but saw a guy shoveling water from one side of his driveway to the other via a wheelbarrow. On the other side of the driveway was a pond. I should have snapped a picture but I wanted accurate directions back to Stoughton and I didn't want to rile him. I listened to his instructions and turned around. A the next intersection I ignored his suggestion to keep going west and I turned north. At that point I was roughly 5 miles from my car. Instead I continued further away until I recognized a road which is part of a WNBR route. I followed that back to the car, which resulted in a route roughly 17 miles in length. So instead of a 55 mile ride I did a 67 mile ride. I was fine with the mileage, but it's obvious I don't listen to instructions.

On the way out I saw a Sand Hill Crane or two wading along the road side.

On the way back I passed an alpaca farm. This one has a goat hanging out along the fence. Alpacas and llamas are the coolest farm creatures.
As a reward for not whining when I was headed the wrong way I put French dressing on my salad. Or did that get renamed "Freedom Dressing" at some point? Spicy V-8 to wash it down.