There used to be (might still be, for all I know) a cycling-oriented newsletter called Spokes, published by a local bike shop of the same name.  One issue's cover story  had the memorable- and eminently relatable- title "From Adversity to Adventure, In Two Beers and a Shower".

There's nothing quite like the pleasure of a hot, refreshing shower as a prelude to relaxation after a hard day's riding, is there?  Like you, I've had many such, in hotel rooms, campground shower houses, and the like, but two in particular stand out as "unusual" and particularly memorable.

The first came at the end of the first day of a two-day double century event called TOSRV (Tour of the Scioto River Valley), which runs between Columbus OH and Portsmouth OH, and which I first rode in 1995.  It's about 105 miles between the endpoints, and for decades TOSRV covered that route over Mother's Day weekend.  105 miles downstream from Columbus to Portsmouth on Saturday, turn around and ride upstream back to Columbus on Sunday.

The weather in that part of Ohio at that time of year is notoriously fickle and unreliable, often difficult and unpleasant.  It may be 80 and sunny and pleasant, but is just as apt to be 35 and raining, with a headwind all day.  On the day in question, it was in the low 50s with gray skies, intermittent mist, and that sort of dampness in the air that chills you through and through without actually ever raining on you.

Accommodations on Saturday night included the opportunity to sleep in the gymnasiums of the local Portsmouth schools.  In those days, the ride organizers separated riders by gender: women stayed in one school and men in another.

The elementary school I stayed in either didn't have a locker room with showers, or it was closed, or was overrun with other users, I forget which.  What I remember, however, is the shower arrangement my buddy and I used.  

We were directed into the basement and through the boiler room.  There was an exit from the boiler room into an outdoor stairwell, screened from general view by virtue of being below grade level. The door had been propped open, and draped over it was a garden hose.  One end of the hose connected to the building's hot water supply, the other end had a circular lawn sprinkler attached by way of serving as the shower head.

What a relief it was to be flooded with piping hot water!  The cool outdoor air, however, discouraged lingering but it was soooooo nice to get clean- and WARM.

* * * * * * * *

The second memorable shower came at the end of my first day on the Katy Trail in 2024.  My companion and I found ourselves in a tiny hamlet whose residents offer free camping to itinerant cycle tramps, just across from the town park.  There are two or three campsites with gravel pads for your tent, and picnic tables.  There aren't any other facilities, though: no restrooms, water supply, and certainly no showers.

We were hot and tired and dusty from the trail, badly in need of getting cleaned up and of obtaining water for cooking as well as to refill our bottles for the evening and next day's riding.  On inquiring of a local, we were directed a block up the street, to the "Automatic Water Salesman".

This is a contraption connected directly to the town's water tower.  It's fed by gravity, with a pipe that runs from the water tower into a temporary "bucket" that has about a 4 or 5 inch diameter, two or three foot long discharge tube.  It's intended to fill cattle tanks brought in by local farmers.

We put in our dollar, and were rewarded with a gushing torrent from the end of the "hose".  It was ambient temperature (quite cool but not COLD) and we were instantly completely drenched.  Again, lingering wasn't in the cards but it was thoroughly enjoyable and reasonably effective.

So, what's the most memorable shower you've had after a day's ride?

The cold water "bowl showers" in SE Asia are increasingly uncommon but still present in very outlying areas. There is usually a big  ugly cement square tank of water and a plastic floating bowl with a handle (also used in rustic squat toilets for cleaning) and you just pour it over your head and soap up, then rinse. Etiquette requires that you top up the tank from the spigot after you're done. Some of them are in public shower blocks, so women are expected to wear a sarong knotted high on the chest while bathing, same if you are bathing in the river. We were sleeping in a monastery (trekking, not biking) in Myanmar and they directed us to a courtyard open shower block, which was even more problematic as I was the only female present and we're not supposed to touch the monks much less shower up in their presence but I was grossly sweaty and dusty so I did anyway. Of course the curious young ones were standing around pretending not to be sneaking peeks. Good times. I made Bruce stand guard and look stern, and while he's not good at looking stern he did deflect the awkwardness somewhat.

RAGBRAI 2001. A car wash. The kind you drive your car into the bay and let the water do its thing. They had ropes tied on the wall so you didn't get knocked down. Took about 14 seconds to get clean. People wore teir cycling clothes or bathing suits. One of the teams - they had a bus and were there for the party - took donations if you wanted them to pay you down with a chamois. It also provided the evening's entertainment watching. 

Ingenious!

It was a research trip not a cycling adventure, but I had similar "showers" when I was in Pakistan 40 years ago.  Five gallon plastic buckets, with a one- or two-quart scoop to use as a ladle.  Refill the bucket afterward so that the water could reach ambient air temperature for the next user, if they didn't happen along too soon.

A friend and I were bicycling in New Mexico and stayed in an AirBnB in Tres Piedras (no breakfast provided, so I guess just an AirB) with a very New Age-y vibe. Guests stayed in a separate building from the owner, adobe walls, great art and interesting furniture, a communal kitchen that still had leftover food from the previous weekend's crystals and moonbeams convention. The online reviews praised the glorious views from the floor-to-ceiling windows of the shower, so I was expecting a building on a hillside, with a little shower cubicle perched so that shower users could look out at distant nature but no one could look in. Instead, the shower was at one side of what was basically the living room, completely unenclosed, just a shower head and a drain in the tile floor, a few feet from a sofa and coffee table. The glass wall with a sliding glass door next to the shower was about 10 feet from the main path on the grounds--anyone walking anywhere on the grounds would walk right by. Even though we were the only ones staying there, we pulled down the blinds (which acted like they didn't get a lot of use). 

The toilets were in a little adobe niche in the same large room. The 8x3 foot toilet closet had no door, and there were two toilets, facing each other. This room connected the bedrooms and kitchen, so if you came out of the kitchen with a snack, you might see two people with their knees almost touching, pooping. To top it off, there was sign warning that the septic system couldn't handle toilet paper, so guests should put used toilet paper in the small, open-topped wastebasket.

Back when I did camping tours, I regularly made my own shower. I routinely showered outdoors a few feet away from my campsite. Works best in forested areas that have cover and something high to hang the bag on. Desert areas typically needed a fence or sign post to get the bag high enough.

I don't think I have any photos of the shower setup. But I have photos of the water sack warming in the sun.

Back when I did camping tours, I regularly made my own shower. I routinely showered outdoors a few feet away from my campsite. Works best in forested areas that have cover and something high to hang the bag on. Desert areas typically needed a fence or sign post to get the bag high enough.

I don't think I have any photos of the shower setup. But I have photos of the water sack warming in the sun.

Like one other responder on this topic, my most memorable shower was on RAGBRAI.  For a few years, I rode with a group of about 40 riders and the organizer provided a shower tent at the end of each day.  On one particular evening, the bright sun was low in the sky, and the entire group could see the well-defined shadowy outline of anybody taking a shower right through the tent.  Too late for me, but at some point, the rest of the males wore shorts and the rest of the females wore shorts and sport bras while in the shower.

Years back now, we stopped at an ad hoc but registered campsite here in France. It was run by a British woman in her 30s who used to be a fighter pilot with the RAF but abandoned flying because while she was happy with take-offs, she never got over the terror of landings. Running a campsite with an associated garden centre was her retreat from the world.

The campsite had indoor showers and one in the open air. I mentioned it and the woman, of clearly hippie ideals, said that that was the one she always used.

"There's nothing as liberating as an outdoor shower as you watch the birds pass and the countryside around you", she said. Or something like that.

She always showered naked, she said. She thought other people should, too. So I did.