All the first times I got really, really stoned were on bike rides. Sunny summer days monging out in meadows and nights getting lost for hours, with no lights, in woods I should know better than the back of my hand. Beautiful. Taught me a f*ckload more than school ever did.
Riding down to meet mates with shrooms on bonfire night. Lying on the cricket pitch watching the best display ever display in the park. Then to the pub where I saw an orange dog with no legs at which point we all saw it.