Tilda's brother, an avid recreational bicyclist, is supremely fit and often spends entire days out on the road. His idea of a good time is when his hi-tech cycling computer crunches the numbers (heart rate, temperature, humidity, speed, etc.) and reports that his Suffering Index is at the "Epic" level.
There's one factor his computer doesn't take into account, however: horse manure. On a recent ride he took a wrong turn and ended up riding through a drenching rain on the back roads of Lancaster County, which, it seems, had recently experienced an extraordinarily heavy volume of horse-drawn carriages and wagons.
I was confused: he often bikes through Unionville and never complains about the poop on our roads. What was so different about the Lancaster County variety, I asked.
"Trust me," he said, with a you-really-don't-want-to-know air. "It's different. They must have a different diet or something."
They do have a different diet and they usually do not follow a deworming program.
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