There are two kinds of clean on a farm. There is looks-clean, the shed swept and hosed until the concrete shows. And there is actually clean, the standard a vet, an assurance auditor, or the next batch of livestock would sign off on. The distance between the two is where disease lives, and the tool that closes it is almost always a pressure washer used properly.
Every pressure washer fault call our Leighton Buzzard workshop takes begins the same way: "It was fine last time I used it." And a good third of those calls end without a repair, because the fault was a kinked hose, a blocked filter, a worn nozzle, or stale petrol- things the owner could have found in ten minutes with a cup of tea and a method.
Watch someone wash a greasy workshop floor with a cold pressure washer, and you are watching a negotiation. The grease moves, spreads, thins, and regroups two metres to the left. An hour later, the floor is damper, and the grease has been redistributed rather than removed.
