Our favorites are the I-pay-taxes-it's-MY-road types who get right behind us and lay on the horn to announce their exalted presence. Apparently, the sight of two cyclists riding abreast conjures up images of the end of life as they know it, and only massive amounts of pressure on the horn will fend off the death and destruction to be wrought by those perceived fitness fanatics chewing up the miles on the roadway in front of them. Now mind you, there won't be another vehicle in sight for a gazillion miles (okay, I exaggerate -- 37-and-a-half miles), and they'll still act as if we're supposed to dismount, adorn the roadway with red jerseys, and applaud as they motor by. YEESH!
"If we know where we want to go, then even a stony road is bearable." ~~ Horst Koehler