Plax's coalscuttle.
Not quite as outlandish as it sounds.
I was visiting my Granny, who lives in the village where Plax grew up. We duly arranged a ride on Anglesey. Anglesey is flat - well, flattish - and having been beaten to a pulp with assorted bits of Snowdonia in the past I was uneager to repeat the experience.
So, there we are, doing a ride from Llanfairpwllwhateverthehellitisgogogoch to Llangefni and back via a garden centre cafe, and Plax spots a place selling coal scuttles. Her one had recently dismantled itself. We stopped, she made the purchase, and then realised that her bike didn't have a rack.
So that's how I rode 5 miles with a coal scuttle hanging off the back of my Brompton.