They just repaved Pilot Knob Avenue, what I had referred to as the Beastly Stretch.

I came home from work to find a brand new black track of  thick, smooth and gooey surface.  The sight of it was enchanting, I had to tap around on it to make sure it was real.

I develop an intimate connection with the road.  It can sing or scream through each skate.  From the song of smooth asphalt to the mad morse code of chip seal.

One small regret in the back of my mind was that I never fully enterpreted the angry voice of that old surface.