Paved driveways are common, nowadays; more common in the suburbs and the city than gravel drives. This has not always been the case.
In the late sixties, the driveways in our neighborhood, and most of the neighborhoods I ever visited, were gravel. One day, when I was eight, this changed. The people at the top of the hill, across Shacklett Drive from the Dead-End, had their driveway paved with asphalt. The crew showed up one fine summer morning, paved the 12'x30' drive, set out some cones, and left.
Ten minutes after they were gone, I was at the end of that drive, studying the smooth black expanse before me. The cones were there to keep cars off, I figured. I, however, was on a bike. So, I figured the driveway was open territory to me.
I rode a small arc across the end of the drive, and was stunned to see that my tires left indented tracks in the surface. I just couldn't believe that I had crated that little double-arc (the front wheel and the back wheel rarely follow exactly the same path in a turn). So, I tried it again.
Five or six tries later, it finally occurred to me that the people who owned that driveway probably wouldn't appreciate the tracks on it. I got off the bike, and tried stomping on the asphalt to erase the bike tracks. I succeeded in producing a few nice cowboy boot prints.
So, I proceeded to Plan B, and rode home. I hoped that if I just pretended nothing had ever happened, that that would be the end of it. And, it seemed to be. I never heard anything about it, anyway.
I don't think I ever publicly admitted to making those tracks until now. I just hope the Statute of Limitations has kicked in, 42 years later...