#mud bogging

[dixiedeplorable3again]

[rollerman1]

[kodakcolt]

https://instagram.com/kodakcolt?r=nametag

[backroad-life]

XX

[gregthemayor]

Mud bogging

[seat-safety-switch]

I’ve got a buddy, and he lives a little far away from what you would call “ordinary human beings.” I’m not going to mince words about this, pick the currently politically-correct phraseology for it. He’s a Rural.

There’s benefits to being a rural, of course, don’t let me paint the situation as solely a negative. One of those benefits is that, behind his constantly flooding house, lies a mud pit. I never paid much attention to that mud pit, until a recent meeting with some anthropologists at the university taught me that rural culture is worth documenting and preserving. Now, I had only agreed to this because I was trying to keep them from noticing that the Volvo 245 I was swiping a flame trap out of did not belong to me, but that doesn’t mean they were wrong.

In order to observe the rurals from a safe distance, I was going to have to stay off the main roads. That meant the aforementioned mud pit, which for one glorious week every summer had been baked solid enough by the sun to serve as a pathway for the cattle. There was only one problem, and that problem was that my 1976 Volare was not particularly good at driving through mud.

Well, there were actually two problems. The other problem was that, as I arrived, it became obvious that the rurals were having some kind of motorsport event in the mud pit. They were “mud-boggin,” as the kids liked to say. There was no way I could drive through the mud, and watch the rurals from afar in my capacious malaise-era sedan, unless I could beat these yokels at their own game and force them to go home.

I stopped by my buddy’s house, and rooted through his rustic pile of farm equipment in search of something to help me. There was exotic stuff there, like “lawnmowers,” and “shovels,” things that I had no particular wish to own back in the city, where the only real tool every home needed was a high-powered semi-automatic carbine. The search was not going well. Discouraged, I was nearly ready to give up on the whole situation (along with my theoretical, but still impressive, Ph.D in Rural Anthropology) when I came across it.

I got my wish, sort of. The hillbillies were in full retreat from the mud bog, and the mud itself was dry enough for me to not only drive on, but do skids and burnouts when I got bored. Sure, there were some arguments before they left, but there was nothing in the redneck rulebook that said you couldn’t bring a flamethrower to a mud bog.

[meggiemook]

Good Friday mud bog! Spring Grove, VA. 3-25-16.🙌🏼

[festpop]

BUCKIN WILD MUSIC, 3 DAYS OF MUD, MUSIC, AND BULL RIDING

BUCKIN WILD MUSIC, 3 DAYS OF MUD, MUSIC, AND BULL RIDING

Buckin Wild Music Fest is not your typical fest. It is one of the first and only festivals to combine Country and Red Dirt music, bull riding, camping, and new to the roster this year—mud drags and mud bogging. Dubbed by Great American Country (GAC) as one of its Top Tours, Festivals + Rockin’ Roads Trips, the Third Annual Buckin Wild Music Fest returns to the Lost Creek Ranch and Arenaon…

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