The other day on the way to town I saw one of our denizens on his tractor, blading the gravel from the edges back onto the road proper.
"Oh, good," I thought. "It's nice of him to take this time while the ground has thawed, and use his own time and his own gas and shuffle the roadstuffs back onto the road."
That lasted for a day. The next evening, I was forced to navigate a mid-ocean ridge. You know what that is, right? Deep under the sea, where the tectonic plates are diverging, and magma bubbles through the ocean bottom (heh, heh, I said bottom) and makes a ridge of new rock. Uh huh. Mrs. Hillbilly Mom had to navigate a long hump of new rock, smack dab in the middle of her mile of gravel road, except that she wasn't deep under the sea.
The ground was no longer thawed, and this long snaky hump of rock takes up the middle of that mile-long gravel road Mrs. HM has to drive from the blacktop by EmBee to get to her Mansion. You can't really drive on your own side of the road, because that hump is in the middle. So you have to have two tires up on the hump, or two tires off the edge where there is no more road. You can't drive straddling the hump, because when you meet a car coming the other way, also straddling the hump, you both have to thump over that hump in a hurry to get to your own side.
People helping out make life so much more difficult.