No. Not really. A caravan of white trucks were parked on the trail. They reminded me of the truck operating the robot pipe inspector this summer. Maybe it's the same bunch. All I know is I had to run through the steam. I held my breath. The smell of tainted varnish and used Juicy Fruit clung tenaciously to my clothing long after I crossed the plume. I cough as I type.
They are repairing the sewer with a fiberglass liner at a tiny fraction of the cost and inconvenience digging it up would require.
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