Evening gentlemen, you plan ning to sleep here to-night?” asked a friendly police officer. The beam of his headlights had picked out our bikes leaning against a bus shelter on the Hay to Glasbury road; inside, Brian and I were brewing up. From the warmth of his patrol car he listened as we explained that we were cold and tired but enjoying some supper before continuing our night ride. As it was around 1.30 a.m. he looked somewhat amazed but conveyed his best wishes and roared away. For a few moments we were in a deeper darkness, exhaust fumes filled our shelter and lungs, then the soup boiled over.