Seems that everybody made a thread for their stories so i'm making mine..LOL
A summer or two ago me and a few buds had found what was basically the best spot ever for painting...it was an abandoned bridge construction yard full of concrete pillars and tunnels (for large cranes to sit on) and other concrete structures. Its the remnants of a very large Canadian bridge building project. The plot of land was massive and it was full of this sh*t...like i said best spot of all time. It sits on a large peninsula type thing with a gate and fence guarding the only way in/out, and the other 3 sides had 20-25ft cliffs that meet the atlantic ocean. it even had its own pier for shipping out pieces of the bridge.
So we had painted this spot nearly everyday for about a week now and we were starting to get a little cocky because of how chill it is...bringing out guitars, getting drunk even having picnics. This particular day im out there with 3 others and were all painting and we hear the sound of a vehicle coming down one of the gravel roads. The only thing I remember was turning around, and seeing a white bridge police truck (i guess they still patrolled the yard from time to time) and we all scatter in the same direction. So the 4 of us run and all crouch down behind these shrubs trying to think of wtf were going to do (keep in mind the only way out was through the gate, where the guards have a little outpost). We see the truck looping around the tunnel we were painting and starting to drive down the road about 20 feet in front of us. He drove by us reeeaaall slow, and we must have looked like idiots the four of us trying to hide in this tiny bush, but he didnt stop for whatever reason and kept driving by. so once he gets out of sight three of us run back to where we were painting and grab all of the cans and put them in bags hide them under some rocks. At this point we realize we have no idea where our other friend is at. We decide to head for a section of the property along the cliff where the land is a little higher so we can see where the truck is at. Were laying in this tall grass and we've got a good angle on the front gate. We decide the only way out is to make our way down the cliffs and work our way around the shoreline. These cliffs are muddy as f*ck...and the guy coming down last slips, and takes me and the other guy out...the three of us fall down about 15 feet and land on this large rock...hurt like hell but we got up and kept moving. after awhile of walking along the rocky shoreline we find a small cave and chill for a few minutes. (still have no idea where our other buddy has gone to, and weve been running from the police for almost 2 hours). From the cave we can see the pier, and as were sitting there scraping the paint off our nails we see actual police from the town the yard is located driving down to the end of the pier. So at this point we acknowledge were probably going to get arrested, one of the guys had a couple grams of weed on him, which he ate. Then out of nowhere the other guy says "we should pretend that were swimming" it was basically our last glimmer of hope and that was it. We strip to our boxers and run into the freezing atlantic ocean like a bunch of lunatics. That water was some of the coldest water ive ever been in LOL. So after we walk right up to the pier where the cops are...and of course they ask us what were doing in the yard...and there just like "great place to swim but im sorry your not allowed on the premisis its private property. and then they tell us that four guys were seen spraypainting things inside (but since that was 2 hrs ago and there was now only 3 of us they didnt put it together? IDK) And they just let us go. the other guy somehow made it out the same way farther down the coast. Def wont forget that one