Talkin’ shit about equestrians

Piles, man. Piles.

So, let’s say you’re a hiker, and you bring Bacon or whatever your wittle poochies is named. Hims is sooo good! Yes, he is!

I talk about your dog that way because I love him. I want to pet him. And don’t worry, I don’t care if he licks my face with his genital and bunghole lapping tongue. I love his kissies because I wuv him.

I can’t have a dog where I live, so I have to love your dog.

See, I got all distracted by my love for your dog. Back to my scenario.

Let’s say Bacon suddenly starts to do that stunted, tense crazy-assed arched-spine walk where it looks like his hind legs are more skimming the ground than actually supporting him, aaaaand, there ya go, Bacon. He shits in the middle of the trail.

How epically dicky would it be if you didn’t clean up Bacon’s bits? It’s amazing how much that few ounces of feces could fuck up someone’s day if it ended up on the bottom—and up the sides—of their New Balances, you know, all caught in the tread. Or even worse, say someone has decided to bring their little tot with them, and he steps on it, or worse, likes the look of it and wants pick it up to show mommy or daddy.

“Poo poo”

But that’s not gonna happen, because like Bacon, you’re a good boy. Yes you are! You’re going to bag Bacon’s leavings and get it off the surface where people are walking and my brothers and sisters on mountain bikes are riding. You have more than the tiny bit of common courtesy that it takes to clean up Bacon’s shit for your fellow trail users. You know why you’ve got this modicum of respect for your fellow trail users?

Because you, Bacon’s master, are not a fucking equestrian.

Nice ass. Both of you.

Now, don’t get me wrong. I love horsies. I don’t ride, but they’re lovely animals.

But why oh why is it acceptable for the turds of the most big shit droppingest beasts to go untouched by their owners? And I don’t buy the horseshit about how it may be hard to get off and on your horse. Too bad, man. Do it! There’re other people out here using the trail, Willie Shitmaker! Isn’t it enough that your heavy ass animal dents up and erodes the trail more than any other user? You’ve gotta pile shit on top of the hoof prints, too?

Riding up a steep trail is hard, man. Anyone who has ever done something hard knows what happens: youstart…totake…inmore…airto…oxygenate…yourbloodstream… foryour…hardworkingmuscles. And ain’t it just a biker or trail runner’s outdoorsy, green nature scene dream to take in a big lungful of the fumes coming off Mr. Ed’s digestive tract processed breakfast? Hay and alfalfa stinks like shit before it’s shit, so by the time it’s on the trail…fucker!

And there’s just so much of it, man. And if I run over a fresh pile? Rrrrr.


DramatizationOh, you say aren’t aware of when he shits because Artax’s asshole is behind the asshole in the saddle? My ass. You’re gonna tell me you don’t hear that load hitting the trail, Atreyu?  End that story.

It would take a week for Bacon’s turds to equal one horse’s load, yet Bacon’s owner wouldn’t dream of leaving it on the trail. Isn’t there some kind of Dr. Amos’s Horse Shit Shover designed to push Trigger’s dung off the trail? Why not? Why isn’t there a little carrier for a Dr. Amos on the side of the saddle?

You, equestrian, may think you’ve got a magical, majestic creature there, but believe this mountain biker, your wingless Pegasus’s shit doesn’t vanish in a puff of pine-scented fairy dust when it goes earthbound.

Note: Shit doesn’t magically vanish

So I have a challenge for you, fellow mountain biker. I would do it myself, but I’m too famous. The challenge is:

shit in front of an equestrian.

If you can do it while you’re still on your bike and moving, that’s badass, because you will be more horse-like, which would be way funny. You should whinny, too. Yeah, that would be cool.

This challenge will not be easy. Many times you don’t even see the shit machines, just their gross domestic product. And the chances of you having to drop a yam right at that moment, well, odds are not good.

But, should you pull off this masterpiece of protest, I would suggest a few things. For one, have a buddy film your protest. We want to see it.

Secondly, make sure you’ve got a good line for the equestrian to punctuate things. Maybe something really stupid-cool and schwarzeneggerian like, “Tough shit.” Or you could just go all sarcastic, like, “Oh, I’m sorry, did I shit where your horse was planning on shitting?”

And lastly, and most important, if your brown baby boy doesn’t stick to the bottom of Trigger’s hoof, make sure to clean up and push it off the trail. You are, after all, a mountain biker, not a fucking equestrian.

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