When the Squirts Hit

Bound (more likely unbound) to happen, tummy upsets and worse are guaranteed to descended upon anyone travelling through the 3rd world. A generalisation about travel in these parts is that you eat what the locals eat – well as much as possible, keep your hands clean and purify your water. These are the keys to staying intact as you pass through places of pretty questionable hygene. But even then there is no guarantee you’ll escape unscathed.

The most common and dreaded afflication is the squirts (uncontrollable bowel blasting), which typically strike just after you’ve had a roadside meal and your guts scream at you to dump it. Depending on the severity of the disagreement within, you can find yourself with precious little time to obey before nature takes over anyway.

Alternatively you may think that you are able to contain the rumblings, maybe relieve the pressure with a discrete gaseous omission or two, and wait until a convenient time to accommodate a more substantial alleviation. This is a high risk strategy – too often that little gaseous intent turns out to be a full blown liquid burn off and you find your motorcycle trou are the unhappy recipient of the exorcism your body just conducted on your lunch. In other words you get to recognise when when you’ve fallen foul of food and once you do time is of essence, you have to know when to hold them, know when to fold them.

I have been on bike expeditions where just after lunch I’ve come around a bend to find two or more bikes standing forlornely at the roadside with their riders either squatting beside them, running full pelt across an adjacent field, or nowhere in sight, as they endeavour to vacate their bowels without messing their own patch.

Even the most experienced 3rd world traveller can get it wrong. So it was last week with one of our members confident he was all-together was only to find that he wished he’d worn nappies. And we’d wish he had too – needless to say he was asked to ride at the rear of the pack for the rest of the day.

2 Responses to When the Squirts Hit

  1. nic roberts June 1, 2005 at 9:20 am #

    gareth and gang. enjoying the web site and the weekly reports on holmesys show. I once shit myself on the southern motorway, northbound. I had no idea it was going to happen.I was in the fast lane at two o clock in the afternoon. A sharp pain in my guts, I thought fuck I need to go to the toilet badly. Straightened my legs clenched my sphincter shut, but to no avail. I had no control over my bodily function and lo and behold filled my pants and work overalls with half a bucket full. I did not enjoy it. I dont think there are many grown men who have driven over the Auckland harbour bridge with shitty pants on a beautiful sunny afternoon.Ride carefully, and as on New Zealand roads watch out for the crazy bastards coming in the opposite direction.
    Cheers
    Nic Roberts

  2. Michael June 1, 2005 at 9:47 am #

    Too much info!!

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