Author Topic: Caption it #1812  (Read 627 times)

Caption it #1812
« on: January 30, 2020, 07:05:47 am »


(Hat tip to  Go Miles' facebook page, everyone's favourite HAMR almost-contentender)

Jaded

  • The Codfather
  • Formerly known as Jaded
Re: Caption it #1812
« Reply #1 on: January 30, 2020, 07:08:18 am »
Mr Pumpe released Hot Flatus
If you don't like your democracy, vote against it.

Wowbagger

  • Dez's butler
    • Musings of a Gentleman Cyclist
Re: Caption it #1812
« Reply #2 on: January 30, 2020, 10:46:49 am »
Not a caption.



When Jan and I rode the Irish End to End in 2008, or whenever it was, we stopped for lunch in this pub in Killeter. The message in the above image was hanging on the wall, but someone had crafted it in marquetry. The image in the marquetry was a hand holding a gun, and wherever you were in the room, the gun appeared to be pointing at you.

That was without a doubt the most sinister and frightening day's riding I have ever done. Our route crossed the border several times along a road that, on the very early map that I had on my Garmin, disappeared whenever we were in the South. The countryside was remote and scrubby, and every so often we cycled past a farmstead from which a tricolour was flying.
Eating's a serious business. Don't bollocks around wagging your tail.

meddyg

  • 'You'll have had your tea?'
Re: Caption it #1812
« Reply #3 on: February 03, 2020, 09:25:46 pm »
Here's this month's CTC bulletin !

T42

  • Old fool in a hurry
Re: Caption it #1812
« Reply #4 on: February 04, 2020, 09:27:39 am »
Not a caption.



When Jan and I rode the Irish End to End in 2008, or whenever it was, we stopped for lunch in this pub in Killeter. The message in the above image was hanging on the wall, but someone had crafted it in marquetry. The image in the marquetry was a hand holding a gun, and wherever you were in the room, the gun appeared to be pointing at you.

That was without a doubt the most sinister and frightening day's riding I have ever done. Our route crossed the border several times along a road that, on the very early map that I had on my Garmin, disappeared whenever we were in the South. The countryside was remote and scrubby, and every so often we cycled past a farmstead from which a tricolour was flying.

And you were in no danger whatever, apart from maybe the odd hurtling lorry. My uncle was held by the IRA for a day at the height of the Troubles while they "borrowed" his car for a job: they fed him well and the bloke they left to guard him chatted and kept him supplied with tea and biscuits, then took him back to his car with neither him nor it damaged.  Mind you, they kept his address book.
I've dusted all those old bottles and set them up straight.

Cudzoziemiec

  • Eating all the pies and drinking all the tea.
Re: Caption it #1812
« Reply #5 on: February 04, 2020, 10:54:10 am »
Caution: Riding a bike without a seat tube can be injurious.
Days become simply the spaces between dreams, spaces between the shifting floors of time...

sprogs

  • from your big sister, Steve.
Re: Caption it #1812
« Reply #6 on: February 14, 2020, 06:23:46 pm »
I said I fell over and ShAt myself. Sh-A-t. !!
I didn't even HAVE a gun !