Personally, I’d rather eat dog poo than ride my bike naked in public, but I admire people who feel so completely at home in their own naked skin. And you know what? Their comfort level doesn’t seem to have anything to do with how they look. Old, young, fat, skinny, well-endowed or not, all these people seemed quite comfortable naked, even in public with dozens of cameras pointed at them. My hat goes off to them. (But just my hat.)
At any rate, they say a picture is worth a thousand words, so without further ado:
Here are some of the people trying to get the picture worth a thousand words:
And here’s the video. Only problem is, I made the mistake (again!) of holding my camera in portrait mode for the first little while. Duh. So you might have to turn either your monitor or your head to see it.
Here’s the edited version, in which almost everybody is right side up, but I had to sacrifice some picture quality in the process.
Anyway. There ya go.
The mere thought of a bike seat on my naked hoo-hoo (as my son’s girlfriend calls her pubes) is just painful. Still, more power to those who do not have similar concerns. I’d like to be as comfortable in just my own skin, but alas am not and, in fact, have never been, even when I was less, um, ample. That Southern (U.S.) Baptist upraising damaged me that way, and having rejected the ideology did not fully repair that damage. Guess that means I still have some work to do, yes?
I always love it when I can comment about a topic that relates to my nickname.
In Toronto, I was able to witness the naked bike riders stopping at City Hall to pose for some photos. The Filipino Canadians seemed intrigued that their event at City Hall was being upstaged by about 75 nude cyclists.
One woman commented, “I can’t believe they would ride naked!”
I replied, “At least they are wearing shoes.”
Is it just me or were there more costumes and body paint last year?
Anyway, yeah, you couldn’t pay me to ride my bike naked. Ouch.
I love how you’re not the Ottawa Sun, and I can see that there were naked men there.
I think it is funny that they are naked, yet wearing helmets. And I would take a root canal over riding a bike naked, but I’m not so sure about the dog poo.
Is it just me, or was there more pubic hair last year?
I often say that I’ll try anything once, especially things I’ve already tried. Thankfully, I did the WNBR back when there were many fewer photographers (and a better gender balance, I might add).
– RG>
…did that last guy have a BetaMax camera strapped to his head?
I don’t even understand HOW you can ride a bicycle naked. I mean, surely there’s a reason god invented those nicely padded bicycle shorts, right?
Best. Event. Ever!
tee hee. i just keep wondering how comfy a bike seat is with, nothing in between but the all-natural paddin’.
The photogs you saw are Stephanie A (http://www.flickr.com/photos/seamesse/) and Leon (totalphoto.ca).
i’m going to go check and see what they have up *pun partially intended.
My hat’s off to them too. There are no flattering angles when sitting on a bike. I think there was more body paint last year.
We are having one in Ireland this summer too, on July 19th to be exact. Although there was a small one last year (just eight brave souls) this is the first attempt to welcome broad public participation.
A book review in The Economist said something interesting about the naked bike ride:
“WHEN, where and how much you take your clothes off matters a surprising amount… Given that everyone ran around naked only a few thousand years ago, and that we all look more-or-less similar once unclothed, this is quite puzzling.
One reason is that nakedness signals real or perceived sexual availability. The undressed form, especially for people who are unused to it, is distracting, or worse. Another is that it signals vulnerability: the annual World Naked Bike Ride gives cyclists a chance to highlight their fragility in the unequal tussle for road space with motorists. Nudity strips us of clothing-based social signals such as wealth or poverty. Leave it to Rudyard Kipling to explain: “The colonel’s lady an’ Judy O’Grady are sisters under their skins.—