[LEAKYSEALS951]

Three bicycle stories.

1. One local dude I rode with had the worst B.O. It was concentrated ass, a millionfold power, and you could smell him a mile away. One day, while closely following him in a race, a drop of his nasty arse sweat dripped off his back, and went right down my gullet. I started choking on it. I would have rather inhale mace.

2. Riding a bike up a mountain, you are working hard and going slow. Dead/rotting roadkill in the summer heat are bad, as you ride up to it, and can't get by it in short order. Worse yet, you have to breath labored/heavy to muster up the power to get past it. At full speed, you might be going past the carcass at 2-3mph. Walking speed. It's a slow speed trainwreck of olfactory hell- specially a bloated deer with some buzzards chewing his butt out.

3. Another riding up a mountain story- HOT sweltering day. Sun beats down on a very steep mountain pass. Once again, breathing heavy, working hard, hot and burning.

Down the road comes a torrent of running water. "It's water from heaven" I exclaimed. It covered the entire lane and within no time, I was riding though it, and the tires splashed it all over me. There was really no way to avoid it. Where does a mysterious river of water come from in such a dry hot day?

The RV that dumped it's waste tanks as it took the twisty turns right ahead of me. Not only did it smell of raw sewage, I wore it.

I should give up biking.