The Honey Wagon

I live in a rural area. I like it that way, and drove the real estate people crazy until I found just the right place. You know, somewhere out in the country, where I could roll down my driveway and ride 100 miles in a couple directions with no problems. Rural is good.

One of the "issues" with living in a rural area is that twice a year, George's boys fly by my house with the "honey wagons." George leases almost all the farm land in Goochland, and its thanks to him, and the horse people that my county stays rural. Farm land needs to be fertilized. George also has a dairy operation, and a sewage lagoon where he stores "honey." Twice a year, he siphons up that gold and puts it in spreaders and off his little Mexicans go to dump it on the fields for spring planting.

I've used manure tea in the garden and the plants love it. Me as a cyclist, not so much.

Riding from my house for the next week or two is a toxic nightmare. Tuesday and Wednesday I was coming back in with the wind blowing across the fields... I'm sure that I'm going to have a raging case of systemic e coli. Between the crap on the roads from spillage, and the dried particulate blown all over me... yuck. First thing I did when I got home was strip and toss the kit in the washing machine, hop in the shower, and do the Neil Med sinus wash routine.

My new friend Col. Sharon Leary, now at Ft Lee, and fresh back from Iraq thinks this is hysterically funny. When she was in Iraq she had the same problem, but it was human waste from open and broken sewers. Either way, its just bad.

Its only two or three weeks a year, to live in such a great place. I'll take it. But if you see me riding with a mask on, don't laugh!