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I love mountain biking. It was fantastic when I lived in the Bitterroot mountains with National Forest land all over the place. Things were still good when I lived in California because I lived beside a mountain biking park. And when I moved to West Virginia, again, I lived near some great trails. So, I try to bike as often as I can, weather permitting now in the mountains of WV.
Women always seemed surprised by my actions even when they had heard from friends what would happen.
I also love pizza and specifically cheese. The more cheese, bacon, or pepperoni on a pizza, the more I will love it. And the beauty of living next to great mountain bike trails is I can eat, then hop on my bike and go ride it off. So on this particular day, I woke up a little hung over and decided the cure would be a gatorade, a pizza, and a bike ride. I ate a Red Baron pizza that I topped with extra cheese and extra pepperoni. It was delicious and I was feeling good. I debated whether I had to use the bathroom and decided I should, so I took a leak and then grabbed the bike and locked the door.
I took off out from my driveway and within a mile and a half, I was deep into the woods surrounding the Appalachian Trail. I was feeling adventurous, so I decided to explore until I got tired and then backtrack home. I headed up a four wheeler trail, crossing the AT and then after reaching the top of a mountain, decided I was tired enough so I turned and headed back down. The nice thing about living on the river is that I can just about coast home from any place I ride to. As I got back into my neighborhood, I had the sensation of needing to poop. No big deal, I was still in the woods and could easily hide myself.
Normally when I get this sensation, I try to hold it too long, shit my pants, and then have to get creative to clean up and get home. So, being a man of reasonable intelligence, I decided there was no point to risk pooping my pants in front of my neighbors’ houses.
Without the need to push my luck while trying to hold it all the way to my house, I hopped off the bike and walked up a rivine towards some cover. And once I got off the bike I knew I had made a good decision. My stomach inverted and I was cramping up a little. I could tell there was a lot and it needed to come out soon. At this point though, I was riding on a dirt road that cars used, albeit rarely. I got far enough up the rivine that I felt any passing traffic wouldn’t see me, so I dropped my pants and started pooping. It came rushing out in what can only be described as unhealthy.
When I was finally finished, I got up to find some leaves. When I looked down, I was horrified at what I saw. It was stringy. The cheese from my pizza was not only clearly undigested and visible, but it was still warm and melted. It was so clearly cheese, that I picked up a stick before wiping and actually played with it. It literally looked like a pile of shredded cheddar, melted to perfect melty, stringy deliciousness. It would cling to the stick, and like serving a pizza, would stretch between the pile of poo and the stick with a big glob of cheese on it. It was disgusting.
Now, I’ve pooped undigested food before. Most often, lettuce are the culprit. If someone tries to sneak lettuce into my diet, it nearly always gets rejected by my body in a disturbing, leafy bowel movement. Corn is also famous for coming out undigested. But this was different.
Scarred by what had just happened, I found a few leaves and cleaned up as best I could. Then I hopped on my bike and rode home. When I walked in the door, I decided that since I hadn’t digested my lunch, I’d make another pizza.
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