This must be what the bull feels like during the bull riding event in a rodeo: slipping and sliding through deep mud with an unwelcome weight clinging to your back.

But this was just another day, the final day, of the Cross Crusade series, and we were all there voluntarily, humping our way through the animal-waste-tainted mud without prodding or coersion. We were, we told ourselves over and over, having a good time. In fact, we paid money to do it.

And that’s what it looked like. As the ethereal morning fog gave way to plain old cheery sunshine, it revealed a whole buttload of people smiling like kids in a mud puddle.

There was racing, too. Maybe more than any other event of the season, the gathering at Washington County Fairground served up a heaping bowl of killer racing. It seemed like each group had at least a few people who were trying to end the season with a burst of competitiveness. The men’s Hot Shit racers fought like true heroes to a mud-slinging sprint that we’re still a little breathless about. The women’s Hot Shit race, in which three really, really fast women clawed their way over the course to an exciting finish. When Rhonda crossed the line to give her little boy a muddy hug, there were smiles all around.

We do love this weird sport and the lovely people who do it...even when they are covered in poo.

- torsten