A Quiet Rural Town....
Posted: 24 Mar 2022, 16:24
Let me set the scene for you.
It is a clear but dark night. Clear skies but no moon, and the stars are clear and visible without much light pollution. It is a significantly rural mountainous area. Out on the roads the landscape is difficult to see without the moon, but a lot of the roads are encompassed with trees at either side. Occasionally you could see gaps with towering mountainsides above you on one side, and the other side may have something similar or drop away into a dark nothingness, with some lights in the distance or occasionally some moving headlights far below. Ahead, only your vehicle headlights to light the way and behind, the red glow of tail lights and then darkness.
Unless another vehicle was passing to give you light, oncoming or behind you.
No cellular service, or patchy until you want to use it, then the bars fade away to the ‘searching’ icon.
The roads were smooth and in reasonable condition. It wasn’t long and flat but undulating as it followed the ground around the valleys and mountains, with sometimes long climbs or descents.
Occasionally you’d see the orange or white lights ahead of a village or town, depending on the size. Sometimes the only thing you’d see is the round speed limit sign warning you were entering a 30 or 40mph zone, some houses and maybe a few parked cars, maybe some junctions but then you are out of them and your vehicle is accelerating hard back up to the national speed limit.
Yesterday it was beautiful weather. A lovely hot 19’c during the day, and as the sun sank away it chilled a bit down to 12c, and by the time the sun had left us to darkness it was a moonless star lit 5c. I started on the coast and took the mountain road cross country back to the motorway from North Gwynedd towards Shrewsbury. It was an extreme road at times, single track, often cattle grids, where my own headlights were quite poor but the main beam was a bright powerful LED light bar that lit up the road, the hedge and ahead for several hundred meters. Vastly better than the regular version, which many vehicles had. Twin 55w headlamps, with 65w twin ‘main beam’.
I arrived in Bala, and set about exploring. For my own reasons. It was quiet. I went to the lake at the far end, back along main street and then back roads looking at the architecture and crammed in buildings in this old Merionethshire town of nearly 2000 people. It had a long main street with a cross roads at one end and the carpark with public toilets. Now locked, I found out later. There weren’t many out socialising but the pubs were open and various patrons stood in doorways chatting, some of them smoking.
In the UK you can’t smoke indoors anymore. Some places have dedicated smoking areas but a lot of pubs just have people outside on benches or in the beer garden smoking there.
At about 8pm a white van drove in, its headlights out of alignment. I passed it one way and felt the driver was on ‘main beam’ but then I saw it was a minibus and the back was loaded down with people. It pulled in near the Spar and a fast food place.
Remembering the works of a key member here and their experiences I turned and pulled around the back of the buildings to head back for ‘another pass’. As I turned the first corner the doors had opened and shapes had streamed out onto the pavement, almost as bodies do that are too large for the vehicle or had been crammed in for a long time. I recalled it was a county college minibus, the words clicked. It was in Welsh and I am not fluent. I know a few words and can pronounce things but that’s about it.
At the back street I drove along to where I thought they were and turned the corner.
What met me was an amazing view.
On both sides of the roadway, just wide enough for one vehicle to pass, figures stood. They wore shorts and jumpers or fleeces but had bare legs, as in a sports team. Most were stood about half a meter back from the wall and splattering waterfalls gushed out to the wall and gutter. As I drove closer, towards them, I saw some heads turn to reveal university student age lads, hands in front and the startled looks, almost a twinge of worry and desperation in there. The nearest to me looked at me, looked back and then down again. His buttocks flexed his thin shorts as he strove to clamp it off, to seal off the full flow hosepipe as it relieved him of his no doubt badly needed piss.
The other side of the road had others, but they were calmer. A head turned, a few words were said but that lad carried on going. His stream was thick and as he moved his hand my headlights picked up that he was quite well endowed as well. He waved a hand in my direction, a palm up as if to stop me, so I stopped, facing them, headlights on.
The first lad looked back at me, then forward, his fist around his crotch, squeezing and holding, and now he tugged his manhood back out and it started to dribble out, then like a tap turning on it went up to full flow again.
Others behind him, between him and the main road, seemed to finish what they were doing, stepped back and adjusting their shorts walked away from their ‘piss’. The one that had to stop seemed to be the last one and again, I saw his shorts quivering but this time as if he was pushing out every last drop. He finally seemed to cease, and flopped it away, a flash of white and then a waved hand as he hurried back to his mates.
I started up, and drove the alley. They were all there, their ages confirmed, and most faces had the exuberant grin of the relieved and excited. They were crowding around the chippy now and an older man, possibly the minibus driver, was handing out a spray bottle of sanitiser for them to rinse their hands with.
I wondered how long they had been waiting for that relief; post game when they had imbibed maybe a few too many ‘hydration drinks’ until they were heading back and the pressure grew. I surmised that the driver had dismissed other options to stop on the outskirts of the town for their ‘relief’ until here and then discovering there weren’t any available.
Having driven the route I knew there were places, some quite large laybys where they all could have had their own private 5m square hole of releif. I wondered how many were desperately holding onto their own aching desperately full bladders, praying they wouldn’t embarrass themselves with their mates and team members by letting go in the van, their muscles, clamped closed, failing…
And then they were stopped in a quaint town, the high street, darkness, no where to go, and the only option was a nearby road to let out the pressure before their precious aching muscles failed, and took their manhood and confidence with it.
Then I had come across them, and it was nearly the end of the line. Until one took control, held his hand up to stop the traffic for the team bonding moment
I noticed afterwards, sitting outside and eating chips and drinking from tins of pop that at least some of them returned to the same roadway to no doubt let a bit more out before they left to get back on the road. Whilst my car is comfortable and I can cope with driving and a full bladder, the minibus seats are a bit more uncomfortable for that, a bit more hard wearing and harder seats, able to transfer the shock loading from imperfections in the road up the seat and straight into aching bodies of their occupants…
It is a clear but dark night. Clear skies but no moon, and the stars are clear and visible without much light pollution. It is a significantly rural mountainous area. Out on the roads the landscape is difficult to see without the moon, but a lot of the roads are encompassed with trees at either side. Occasionally you could see gaps with towering mountainsides above you on one side, and the other side may have something similar or drop away into a dark nothingness, with some lights in the distance or occasionally some moving headlights far below. Ahead, only your vehicle headlights to light the way and behind, the red glow of tail lights and then darkness.
Unless another vehicle was passing to give you light, oncoming or behind you.
No cellular service, or patchy until you want to use it, then the bars fade away to the ‘searching’ icon.
The roads were smooth and in reasonable condition. It wasn’t long and flat but undulating as it followed the ground around the valleys and mountains, with sometimes long climbs or descents.
Occasionally you’d see the orange or white lights ahead of a village or town, depending on the size. Sometimes the only thing you’d see is the round speed limit sign warning you were entering a 30 or 40mph zone, some houses and maybe a few parked cars, maybe some junctions but then you are out of them and your vehicle is accelerating hard back up to the national speed limit.
Yesterday it was beautiful weather. A lovely hot 19’c during the day, and as the sun sank away it chilled a bit down to 12c, and by the time the sun had left us to darkness it was a moonless star lit 5c. I started on the coast and took the mountain road cross country back to the motorway from North Gwynedd towards Shrewsbury. It was an extreme road at times, single track, often cattle grids, where my own headlights were quite poor but the main beam was a bright powerful LED light bar that lit up the road, the hedge and ahead for several hundred meters. Vastly better than the regular version, which many vehicles had. Twin 55w headlamps, with 65w twin ‘main beam’.
I arrived in Bala, and set about exploring. For my own reasons. It was quiet. I went to the lake at the far end, back along main street and then back roads looking at the architecture and crammed in buildings in this old Merionethshire town of nearly 2000 people. It had a long main street with a cross roads at one end and the carpark with public toilets. Now locked, I found out later. There weren’t many out socialising but the pubs were open and various patrons stood in doorways chatting, some of them smoking.
In the UK you can’t smoke indoors anymore. Some places have dedicated smoking areas but a lot of pubs just have people outside on benches or in the beer garden smoking there.
At about 8pm a white van drove in, its headlights out of alignment. I passed it one way and felt the driver was on ‘main beam’ but then I saw it was a minibus and the back was loaded down with people. It pulled in near the Spar and a fast food place.
Remembering the works of a key member here and their experiences I turned and pulled around the back of the buildings to head back for ‘another pass’. As I turned the first corner the doors had opened and shapes had streamed out onto the pavement, almost as bodies do that are too large for the vehicle or had been crammed in for a long time. I recalled it was a county college minibus, the words clicked. It was in Welsh and I am not fluent. I know a few words and can pronounce things but that’s about it.
At the back street I drove along to where I thought they were and turned the corner.
What met me was an amazing view.
On both sides of the roadway, just wide enough for one vehicle to pass, figures stood. They wore shorts and jumpers or fleeces but had bare legs, as in a sports team. Most were stood about half a meter back from the wall and splattering waterfalls gushed out to the wall and gutter. As I drove closer, towards them, I saw some heads turn to reveal university student age lads, hands in front and the startled looks, almost a twinge of worry and desperation in there. The nearest to me looked at me, looked back and then down again. His buttocks flexed his thin shorts as he strove to clamp it off, to seal off the full flow hosepipe as it relieved him of his no doubt badly needed piss.
The other side of the road had others, but they were calmer. A head turned, a few words were said but that lad carried on going. His stream was thick and as he moved his hand my headlights picked up that he was quite well endowed as well. He waved a hand in my direction, a palm up as if to stop me, so I stopped, facing them, headlights on.
The first lad looked back at me, then forward, his fist around his crotch, squeezing and holding, and now he tugged his manhood back out and it started to dribble out, then like a tap turning on it went up to full flow again.
Others behind him, between him and the main road, seemed to finish what they were doing, stepped back and adjusting their shorts walked away from their ‘piss’. The one that had to stop seemed to be the last one and again, I saw his shorts quivering but this time as if he was pushing out every last drop. He finally seemed to cease, and flopped it away, a flash of white and then a waved hand as he hurried back to his mates.
I started up, and drove the alley. They were all there, their ages confirmed, and most faces had the exuberant grin of the relieved and excited. They were crowding around the chippy now and an older man, possibly the minibus driver, was handing out a spray bottle of sanitiser for them to rinse their hands with.
I wondered how long they had been waiting for that relief; post game when they had imbibed maybe a few too many ‘hydration drinks’ until they were heading back and the pressure grew. I surmised that the driver had dismissed other options to stop on the outskirts of the town for their ‘relief’ until here and then discovering there weren’t any available.
Having driven the route I knew there were places, some quite large laybys where they all could have had their own private 5m square hole of releif. I wondered how many were desperately holding onto their own aching desperately full bladders, praying they wouldn’t embarrass themselves with their mates and team members by letting go in the van, their muscles, clamped closed, failing…
And then they were stopped in a quaint town, the high street, darkness, no where to go, and the only option was a nearby road to let out the pressure before their precious aching muscles failed, and took their manhood and confidence with it.
Then I had come across them, and it was nearly the end of the line. Until one took control, held his hand up to stop the traffic for the team bonding moment
I noticed afterwards, sitting outside and eating chips and drinking from tins of pop that at least some of them returned to the same roadway to no doubt let a bit more out before they left to get back on the road. Whilst my car is comfortable and I can cope with driving and a full bladder, the minibus seats are a bit more uncomfortable for that, a bit more hard wearing and harder seats, able to transfer the shock loading from imperfections in the road up the seat and straight into aching bodies of their occupants…