What have you found while riding?

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Location
London
Oh had a think.
At the risk of more godly exclamations, i did on a folding bike trip up an apparent empty eu funded dead end facility realise that i had strayed into an italian gay dogging spot.
 
you worked in a soft porn archive?

I fear thread drift here - friends when I was young sometimes confessed to finding theirv dad's stash in the garage.

Might have explained their fondness for car/bike fettling.
edit - am intrigued by the posting home - were you such a dodgy cove that you were routinely searched on coming home?
I worked at the County Council, their archive was in the nuclear air raid shelter, I reckon the caretaker left his stash there as it wasn't really in much use and he had keys for everything. I didn't want to walk through the building with large brown envelopes of pron and the post room was nearer the archive than my office, plus I was first home so no questions at home from my parents about suspicious packages. Worked a treat.
 

Heltor Chasca

Out-riding the Black Dog
My neighbour laying in a deep ditch "tired & emotional" after a heavy session on the calvados.

Raw. A guy I worked with did this but broke a rib in the process. The village was snowed in but he still decided to drive himself to A&E inebriated. He misdiagnosed himself as having a heart attack rather than a bust rib according to his wife. He crashed on a perfectly straight road and died soon after.
 
Location
London
I worked at the County Council, their archive was in the nuclear air raid shelter, I reckon the caretaker left his stash there as it wasn't really in much use and he had keys for everything. I didn't want to walk through the building with large brown envelopes of pron and the post room was nearer the archive than my office, plus I was first home so no questions at home from my parents about suspicious packages. Worked a treat.
thanks for the interesting insight into armageddon planning
 

nonowt

Über Member
Location
London
Stopping to put on my arm warmers on my Sunday ride, I spotted this curious jar by a farmer's gate. The message inside reads "Someone please p**s in here I'm thirsty. Thanks."
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I didn't oblige.
 
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Location
London
Truly us cyclists seem to be trawling the underbelly.
(Am intrigued by the term grumble mags. Wot on earth is the derivation of that?
 
Location
London
Oh hang on.
On a guided london bike ride one bright sunday afternoon we all apparently passed some naked woman being photographed near the thames. May have been more going on - innocent me never saw it but everyone else seemed to. Later discovered that was a dogging sPot, though at night of course.
I see a grubby theme here and can't help wondering if this is why some cyclists favour insanely bright torch beams.
 
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