Dogshit hide and seek.
I was enjoying a cycle in the woods recently, gripping the bars and clenching my teeth as I pounded the trails at what felt like warp speed, trees were zipping past me on either side like something out of Return of the Jedi. This is what off road biking is all about, hitting the trails at insane speeds and throwing your body weight around, manhandling the bike into bermed curves and shifting my weight backwards, so that I'm behind the saddle, with my arse over the rear wheel, I keep my body low, lift the bars slightly as the suspension makes an audible "hiss-squelch hiss-squelch hiss-squelch" as I rise and fall over a series of roots traversing the trail. All good, wholesome fun. All is right with the world.

However, my contentment was somewhat diminished when I sensed - with my nose at first - that I'd ridden the bike right through the middle of a turd of epic proportions. Yep, whatever was stuck to my frame had been dropped by either a well fed Great Dane or a small, Pedigree Chum imbibing shetland pony.

"Aww, fuhkin' hell" I cursed slowly.

A fetid, orange-brown dollop had glued itself to the underside of the frame and splashed the forks as if Pollack himself had hurled paint in his usual frenzy.

With a resigned vexation, I stop and climb off the bike to retrieve a sturdy twig and a dockleaf with which to remove the offensive Gordon Brown from my bike.

"Fucking dog owners. They just let 'em shit everywhere!" I uttered, loudly enough for the lady walking the poodle to give me an evil stare. I harbour no guilt, for said lady is not carrying the necessary plastic bag to pick up her dog's inevitable parcel, for it is now sniffing at the ground furtively. I hope that she burns in hell.

With careful wiping, accompanied by a disgusted look on my face, the front of my frame is clean enough to continue. The tyres will need pressure washing as dogshit has an Araldite like adhestion to rubber, but that I could live with for now. I got back on the bike and continued on my way

Oddly enough, the eau-de-turd is still rancid in my nostrils. I chance a look down at my left foot, resting on the pedal.

Oh fuck.

Yep, I'd managed to tread in another turd which had worked its way not only into the tracks of my sole (sounds like a Smokey Robinson song, no?) but also the metal cleat on the bottom of my shoe AND the retaining mechanism of my pedal. This was going to be no easy cleanup operation.

Words cannot begin to express my rage at this point. I'm a huge softy, I love animals especially dogs but right now my sentiments are up there with the South Koreans, I'd happily see the entire semi finalists at Crufts skewered and barbecued along with their blue rinsed owners who have no appreciation for the misery that their pets emissions cause the public.

I swing by the local jet wash and three whole British pounds of my hard earned goes into the machine. Jetwashing is absolutely not recommended for mountain bikes, life giving grease is purged from bearings causing creaks, rust and ultimately considerable expense.

I painstakingly and sparingly use the pressure washer and foam brush to gently ease the stubborn turd from my bike and my left shoe, at no point does the look of utter and complete disgust leave my face.

Fuming...

What irks me though, is I can STILL smell the wreched odour of dogshit somewhere. I furiously check the bike, which is at this point covered saddle to tyre in foam. Nada. My right foot is lifted and although turd free is cleaned anyway.

I slowly ride home, still convinced I can smell dogshit. I fight the urge to gag and talk myself out of vomiting violently in the street. Think. Pleasant. Thoughts.

I get home and carry the bike indoors. Yep, I can STILL smell shit. Why do the Gods taunt me so? My frame is clean, but even so I scrub some more just in case.

I can STILL smell it!

I give up at this point, whereupon I discover the source of the foul odour. Yep, I had managed to get dogshit sprayed up from the rear wheel, not only over my back but also the camelbak I was attempting to remove at the time....
(Bicycle Repairman "you're also a bit of a wanker", Thu 27 Mar 2008, 15:47, 4 replies)

Oh, Lordy
That is foul. And you've recounted the tale so well dear fellow, that I can also smell dogshit now....
Think I'll go run my nose in one of Mildew's scented pooper-sacks.
( Tourette's ( . )( . ) has a monkey hair in her fried egg, Thu 27 Mar 2008, 16:20, closed)

Hey PJM
I feel your pain.

That smell that lingers and makes your face all wrinkled. I know it.
(Che Grimsdale Best before:, Thu 27 Mar 2008, 16:38, closed)

Even Better
When you're wearing shorts...

Trying to get doggie anal WMD off that has stuck to your hairy legs and formed multiple clagnuts. Yummy.
(osok Rebel without a clue, Thu 27 Mar 2008, 16:44, closed)

Haha!
This made me giggle because I know the very expression you had!
( chickenlady b3ta's very own Elizabeth Taylor, Thu 27 Mar 2008, 18:51, closed)