The ride organizers would like to get the body-painters off to one area and essentially protected from photographers until the ride, and to get the ordinary riders assembled in a long straggle in the avenue and then on a signal they all strip and ride. This would minimize the opportunities for hassle photographers and maximize the effect, perhaps. But on the other hand there are the bronzed, tattooed, pierced, shaved and ardent exhibitionists who really want to get their money’s worth. The result of their show seems to be the large coterie of overweight middle-aged male photographers in dark-glasses.
So the normal non-habitual naked riders, especially the women, have another strategy. They start the ride fully-clothed, then as the ride progresses, they remove either one piece at a time in a delightfully demure disrobing of their own timing and design, or they pull off on the pavement at a chosen spot and strip — to hoots and cheers of support and encouragement from other riders. They seem to do this in pairs with mutual encouragement and disbelief. But at this stage, everyone is bonded by the experience, so it’s very easy and funny.