Arybodys got they own kind of road ride.

Anytime one engages in a 'road ride' with he who is known as 6'7", one will inevitably wind up scouring paths, and off-the-beaten-trail byways in order to get from A to B.
Much like riding a horse drawn carriage where your engines have gone rogue (honestly, I've never experienced this, but I thought it was a suitable visual) it's best to just let go of the reins and let the momentum take you where it does.
In this case it was pavé to dirt to bushwhacking to dirt back to pavé again with little time to reflect on the absolute bumper crop of Poison Oak that seemed to spread with mutant-like efficiency as we passed.

As the sun set, and our legs grew weary, we basked in the glow of our own adventure and seemingly endless reserve of mediocrity.