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  • The last time I rode a bike on acid (a couple of microdots), I was doing a 3 mile each way trip to the garage for a few bits and pieces.

    After a fairly traumatic outbound ride, during which my socks liquified, my drop handlebars grew to the width of a pterodactyl's wingspan, and the road went upside down for a bit, I was nervous about finding my way home again.

    What to do, what to do…

    OBVIOUS!

    There was a phone box next to the garage (I had no mobile), so I assigned it as my emergency basecamp, to which I would return if the homeward journey became too treacherous. But to ensure that I remained able to find basecamp, I cunningly bought a few containers of table salt. Then I rode along one-handed whilst simultaneously laying a trail of salt along the tarmac.

    And some people have the nerve to suggest acid messes with your brain.

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