Let's face it - SNOT is a part of cycling. It's certainly common to see someone on a ride blow snot to clear out the ol' honker especially when the temps are cooler and the air dry. It's not even offensive as long as you use proper etiquette. Just drift a little out of the pace line and point to the side you're about to blow on, letting those behind know to be ready for the blast. Get your elbow really high while holding the other nostril closed. With good aim and just the right head tilt you can hit that space just between your underarm, side. and thigh, not getting one sticky drop on you. Be sure to account for windage a bike speed.

Of course when you're in the middle of a serious effort, really on the rivet, or just way deep in the hurt locker, blowing snot doesn't really have a high priority and it just drips and collects down below the nose and around the lip. I think our subconscious allows us to leave it there because it makes us feel young again.

So I'm getting near the end of the Tar Wheel Century. Just finishing a brutal beat directly into 20+ mph headwinds with 30+ gusts. I was IN the moment and loving it. Like Lt. Dan on the top of the shrimp boat mast during the hurricane in Forest Gump. I'd get hit with a gust then say "Common - is that all you got, blow harder, give me a little more, I'm ready, I can take it, don't hold back."

All too soon that stretch was over, the road veered to the right, and I saw a green light at the intersection ahead. 100 miles down and only 3 left after the crossroads. Between me and the light are a few folks that were finishing up the shorter rides. I get up and sprint to beat the red. It changes as I near it, so I hit the binders and roll up to the left side (windward - for all you sailors) of some other riders. They were of the opposite sex, and from where I was sitting, quite attractive.

I try to come up with something smooth and suave' to say.

As I'm unclipping and still looking forward I ask "How's it going?" (Now THAT's original.)

I hear a response, "This is our first ride like this, and it's killing us."

I sit up, lift my head and turn to the right."How much farther do we have?" I ask.

Just as she turns toward me to answer a gust of wind combines with the natural force of gravity to send a nice 2-3 foot rope of nasal mucus directly toward her. Good thing she was tall, a shorter victim must've caught it right between the eyes. We both lean back, me out of courtesy, she out of sheer terror. Barely able to reach the end of my flailing masterpiece with an outstretched arm, I reel it back and wipe it off. I clip in and sprint away as the red goes from the traffic light directly to my face.

So much for first impressions.

Welcome to cycling.

JB