Wrong place at the wrong time

We spent some time yesterday on the survey involving the recent deposition of chicken litter, as mentioned in a previous post. The county road along the east section line is little more than an overgrown cow path with grass growing between the two primary paths of tire-worn gravel and dirt. There hasn't been a home located off that stretch of road as far back as I know, so traffic is very rare. Decades ago that vacant one mile stretch with "T" intersections at each end was given a name by the locals. Said name involves two males who would have a very strong sexual interest in each other.

So, here we are, two males at the midpoint of the road, laboring in the road at digging out a hole (in search of a 5/8" iron bar with 2" aluminum cap set 12 " deep). We look up to discover we are no longer alone. Coming over the hill are a dozen cross country runners from the local high school doing their daily practice run. Following along behind in a pickup is their coach. She knows us both very well. She stopped as she went by to give us a little static about being caught on "THE NAME" road. We all had a good laugh.