yeah def heard us with
my blaring cobra jet exhaust

 

When down the mountain in the AZ desert we surprised a heard of wild Jack- asses. We were ridding down a wash with pretty steep sides so these donkeys start running in front of us. We didn't push them very hard like ridding up on their rear ends, didn't want to run em into the ground either but jiminy Christmas, they didn't want to get out of the wash...just kept looking back to see if we were still there. They kept getting slower and slower until the run in them was dragging butt and this was getting a little boring. Finally stopped to see if they would find their way out if given a chance to think about something else. Nope, just stopped and looked at us and then started running again when we tried to go around them. Finally one had the bright idea of taking a side path threw the brush after what must have been a mile. Whatever God blessed donkeys with it wasn't intelligence.

 

O yea, was on my Sportsman cutting through the mountains with a few buddies, one had a KTM 380 dirt bike, I hear this ZING sound, turn the corner and Bob is laying flat on his back. The dirt bike was wedged between two trees that grew together like an upright set of open scissors and the back tire was almost two feet of the ground...the front was pointing to the sky like a lightning rod. Apparently he rammed a rock that refused to move with his foot, the impact pulled him right of his dirt bike like he was setting still and the bike shot into the tree where it became firmly wedged. I regret not taking a picture. Bob says we better go because he thinks he broke his foot and didn't want to take the ridding boot of because he would never get it back on.

After we got back to the trucks and he pulls the boot of, it looked like someone stuck a baseball under the skin right in the middle of his foot. His wife made him get an X-ray in which the Doc was surprised to find no broken bones, just one heck of a gnarly bruise. Bob wrote a letter to Alpine Star telling them what happened and how the boot had saved his foot from being torn off but never received a reply from them. A few weeks later, while still limping around, he was asking when the next ride would be.

 

This was last season but still funny.

We were riding in WV last Labor day. We were board with the trails we had been riding so we went exploring. With the guidence of a few locals we found an entire new trail system which comprised of mostely gas roads and logging trails. We are about 5 miles from camp which the GPS told us was south of our location. We got tired of running up dead end trails so we started back. We get down to a T in the trail. Left sends us back to camp and right is unknown territory. We were all somewhat low on gas so I lead to the left. We get about a mile from where we were and i realize that we are missing 2 quads and 3 guys.

Let me paint you the picture. Jayson on a 325 Sportsman with plywood racks( another story about that one) and Ryan and Josh on Ryans 650 Outlander because Joshes 500 sportsman died eariler in the day. All three are wearing work boots, Carhart bibs and sunglasses. No shirts at all.

So they split to the right and vanish. We go back to camp, get cleaned up, eat, and settle in around the camp fire. We lost sight of them about 5:00pm. Now its getting to be 1:00 am and we are getting a little concerned. Some of us went scouting and anyone that cam past camp we asked if they had seen them but there was no word. Finnaly about 2:00 am we here the sound of quads comming down the trail. Shore enough they it was them.

When we asked what happened. They said that they had gotten all turned aound up on the gas roads and kept running up and down dead end trails. They kept going in circles and passed the same county line sign 4 times. Finally they stop up on top of a mountian and see lights off in the distance. At this point they had already made plans on how they were going to keep warm and rasioning out food and water. So they figured riding toward the light was the best idea. When they get there they find it is an mine and nobody is there for the weekend, not even a guard. So they Ride down the road and wind up in a town. The only thing with lights on was a Family Dollar so they are laying in the parking lot trying to get warm from the asphalt starring at a coke machine trying to figure out how to get a drink out of it.

Just then a police cruiser pulls in walkes up to the coke machine, gets a can and gets back into the car, not saying a word to any of them. He then looks at them and asks, where you boys from. They reply Washington PA but we are camped out up in Reader WV., we are lost, hungery, almost out of gas, cold, and had just finished our last beer.

The cop looks Josh right in the eye and says well then what the hell you doin in Maryland!.. All three start loosing it. The cop pulls out and drives away. A minute or two later he comes back LHAO and says that they were only 5 miles from where they needed to be, pointed them in the right direction and told em to keep it slow and stay on the sholder. The cop leaves and they take off at max speed blazzing right down the mustard all the way back to camp.

This story got retold at Ryans wedding last month because Josh was his best man.