I went for a spin in the slop on Sunday and learned -- quite by accident -- that some local riders just don't understand how fenders work.
To whit: A group of riders caught up to me as I walked over an icy path on the trail. We all worked back up to speed together, and I noticed that only one out of six had full fenders... and he was riding at the back of their little peloton.
Guys, a tip: The one with the fenders? He's the only one not spitting a nasty rooster tail off his back wheel. That's the back wheel you want to be on. I couldn't help but feel like the crusty (excuse me, "colorful") old guy in the Redford/Newman classic Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid trying to explain to Butch/Sundance that they aren't going to get robbed when they aren't carrying any money: "Morons. I've got morons on my team."
I sat up and let them go. Even though nobody was fighting me for the one dry wheel in the bunch, there were enough fender-free folks weaving in and out that I kept catching spray anyway. Kinda defeats the purpose of having my own fenders if I'm getting grimed by someone less prepared for the weather.