a ration pack biscuit wrapper
Was the packet labelled 'Biscuits, plain, ABL8/40' by any chance? Or have I misremembered that from my cadet days in the 70s?
a ration pack biscuit wrapper
Was the packet labelled 'Biscuits, plain, ABL8/40' by any chance? Or have I misremembered that from my cadet days in the 70s?
These were 'Biscuits, Brown'. Absolutely banger with the tinned pate or cheese spread.Â
To the OP's point. I like the outdoors, as a young lad growing up in Dorset there wasn't much to do that didn't invlove being outside, so it's more a habit than a choice I guess.
I have partaken in many outdoor pursuits. Mostly because the Army made me, but one thing that ran through all of them was to respect the outdoors, leave little trace and don't take it for granted.Â
Bikes was my choice, the one activity that kinda stuck.Â
To the original questions "Do you see yourself as a mountain biker or someone who likes the outdoors in general?"
I think the answer is mainly Yes, the latter. I grew up with bikes around from an early age, as did my brothers, and we all 3 still ride now, albeit sometimes the frequency and enthusiasm vary. But we also had parents who took us walking, climbing, camping, whatever, in Wales, the Lakes, Scotland and so on, and importantly they were also obsessive about littering, leaving no trace at camp, walking in the middle of the path so as not to widen it, don't straighten corners on zigzags, etc. When I was coarse fishing through the '80s, I'd get irritated by other anglers leaving plastic bags, luncheon meat tins, hooklengths of monofil and so on - simply couldn't (still can't) understand why anyone would go to the effort of walking to a pleasant stretch of canal or river, to then despoil it by leaving their shite there. You carried it in, bloody take it away; as RM says above it's the simple 'Leave No Trace' principle. And it's why I habitually pick up litter on the beach, or ferret about in a hilltop sheltercairn, to leave things better than I found them, much to my wife's irritation.
Frequently find myself muttering words to the effect of "Litterers, machine-gunning's too good for them"
