Richard C. lives near Cambridge and I live in London, but last Saturday
was an excellent day on which to get together and cycle nude in and
around Cambridge.

We were cycling nude continuously for nearly five hours. The route
was from the Fort St George pub near Jesus Lock, along riverside paths
and roads to the start of the tow path of the River Cam. From this
point, the path was extremely busy for a couple of miles, because
College Eights were out in force for the Bumps races. Cycling through
these crowds was at times a little hazardous as other cyclists were
principally those training and supporting the individual Eights as they
passed on the river, and there were throngs of spectators standing
around as well.

As luck had it, we found ourselves going downstream just when some of
the races were happening (i.e. coming upstream), and much later on, we
were returning while crews were coasting downstream to the Start. A big
crowd on the far bank were very vocal in support of racing boats and, when
none was passing, of these two nude cyclists. We did see a couple of video
cameras set up to record the racing, so we're probably on someone's cutting
room floor.

Further downstream, the atmosphere was entirely that of quiet
countryside, enlivened by a couple of swims in the river by me, and by a
passing barge, the Ali, whose owners offered us beer and conversation at
the next lock.

The flood banks of that part of the Cam provide a rough, grassy
equivalent of a tow path, and we continued for a bit until 4:00 under wide
open sky before starting back.

Having reached the pub from which we started (revisiting all the very
populated paths on the way of course), we just continued along the
riverside into the town centre, eliciting a noisy welcome from the large
crowd of (no doubt) football celebrants outside the pubs at Magdalene
Bridge. [We have to admit that nude cycling comes before watching England
in the World Cup, though we can't be completely indifferent to that 3-0
win, especially as Richard's daughter is such a soccer adept].

It's only a short distance from there, through busy, narrow streets,
between colleges, to get to the route to his home by paths and fields that
we used three weeks ago. The village of Coton has a nice pub (The
Plough) for which we dressed (coat on, geddit?) and had a pint around
6:00.

During the whole adventure, we heard only one seriously negative
comment, and that from an older, lone man who might have been drunk or
otherwise in less than complete balance. Everyone else produced the usual
range of reactions: from avoidance, through extreme surprise to amusement
and of course explicit support. No one intervened or tried to stop us or do
anything untoward, and we thoroughly enjoyed the excursion and the chance to
demonstrate something liberating to so many people.

I have to say that being on bikes provides a kind of safety of its own in
that you move on quickly between encounters with the public (less quickly
on crowded bridges!). You might think it then becomes just streaking, but
(1) it was in public as opposed to the usual captive audience, (2) we were
very close to many people as we passed, (3) there were two of us, (4) we're
talking hours not seconds or even minutes, (5) no one tried to stop us.

So all in all I think it combines personal enjoyment of liberty with some public
recognition which, though transient, may leave a trace in the minds of
others who would like to do such a thing but are as yet too timid (let's
hope).

Having said which, I am aware that truly public nudity is still very
uncomforable to most naturists and to many who post here.  Nevertheless
there may be those reading this who are inspired to do likewise and to
chip away at the barriers which tend to segregate folk who want to dress
or undress differently.

Bernard.