My friend Matt invited me out to Birchwood, Wisconsin once again this year, to enjoy a weekend full of four-wheeling adventure. Adventure was certainly an understatement about the weekend, and before we wrapped up day #1, broken chains and flat tires were the least of our problems.

I knew that the trails we would be taking this year would definitely be more intense than last year, since many of the guys, like Matt's brother Scott, had moved from sport quads to utility quads, and had put big mud tires on them. I expected we'd be in some deep mud, and that my Scrambler may have a few problems along the way. Last year at Birchwood, my day ended after about 90 miles, with a soaked air filter, that was completely choking off air flow to tne engine. I thought I was a pretty good rider back then, but the Birchwood trip was a huge wake up call. I found out that not only did I need some skill, but my ATV wasn't too well-equipped to handle the very rocky terrain or the wet conditions. This year, I vowed I'd make it through the trip.

Everyone's quad went up on one of two large trailers. Matt, his best friend Dustin, his boss Dan, and I headed up there in Matt's Beretta early Saturday morning. Once up there, we left "camp" at about 11 a.m. or so to head out riding.

We were pretty much right away hitting some muddy, rutted trails. The Scrammy was doing well, and most of the utility quads were having no problems. There was a kid with a Banshee there that was having a little difficulty, but he was doing amazingly well for the terrain. Dan's rear-brake locked up on his Raptor after the 1st big mud hole, but that was an easy fix. We were back on the trail right away.

Just before lunch, Spencer broke the chain on Scott's Raptor he was riding. He hit a mud hole that was rutted on the bottom, and the chain snapped, taking the case saver with it. He was pretty much done for the day. After lunch, the trails really started to get gnarly. Many stretches of trail had sometimes 2 feet of water covering them, with rocks hidden underneath. Some holes had less water, but had soft mud underneath. The Scrammy was doing amazingly well, with the Kenda Claw tires that are made more for dirt than deep mud. The 4x4 was in almost constant operation through these, and the 2-stroke 400 was spinning the Claws enough where mud was flying 10 to 15 feet in the air. Despite my best efforts, I needed to get winched out a few times. The kid with the banshee had the throttle wide open, bouncing on the back of the quad, moving it from side to side, and the thing was just not moving. He ended up fouling out a plug and ingesting a little water, and he was pretty much done too, and got towed the rest of the way.

All this mud, rocks, and sticks on the trail eventually started to take its toll on more machines. Two King Quads went down with flat tires, and needed to be repaired trailside. My Left-front CV Joint on my Scrambler started to develop more and more play as we continued down the trails. It was getting to be about 4 p.m., and we had only traveled about 30 miles. The trails were very slow go, and very difficult.

Finally, my CV Joint broke altogether, leaving me with no 4-wheel-drive. I continued on the trail, knowing there wasn't too much more of a choice, and we all eventually got to a gravel road. At this point, everyone agreed it was best to head back to the trailer to do some repairs, and for me, to get my quad back on the trailer. Scott headed out first, with me limping my quad back at a slower speed, a few quads behind. Our quads were well spaced apart, due to the dusty roads.

I came around a corner, and I see the rest of the guys off to the side of the road. I pull over, and notice right away that we had a HUGE problem on our hands. Scott was laying in the ditch, his left leg bent underneath his right, and he was in A LOT of pain. At first, it appeared that he had rolled his quad. I immediately got off the quad, and went over to the scene to find out what happened. One wheel on Scott's quad was broken, and two tires were off the beads. One rock, about the size of a beach ball, embedded in the ground, had been moved out of its spot, and over a few feet, with deep scratches in it.

Things didn't look too good right away. At least we were off of the difficult trails, but we had no cell phone coverage at all to call 911. Scott stated between breaths that his upper leg really hurt, and his lower back was really sore. Three of the group were sent up the road to get help, while one of the guys was holding and elevating Scott's left leg up on a helmet. I was trying to keep Scott cool by damping down a glove with water, and throwing it on his forehead. He looked to have a roll of quarters in his left pocket, but when asked if he had anything in his left pocket, he stated, only a driver's license.

It felt like a long 30 minutes, but the ambulance came quickly down the fire road where we were at. Scott got loaded in the back, and his brother Matt rode with him to the Hospital in Rice Lake. The Rice Lake hospital didn't have the needed tools to do surgery, but they did say he had a dislocated Pelvis and a clean break on his left femur, near the top of the bone. He was airlifted that evening to Regions in the Twin Cities for surgery.

We all rode back to Faribault Saturday night, a riding weekend cut short by a very bad incident. Even though what some might say was the worst case scenario come true, things could have been far worse. It could have been a compound fracture, with blood loss and shock, or it could have been miles and miles down the muddy, rutty trails that an ambulance would have never have gotten to. Scott had a helmet, but he wasn't wearing it. If his head would have nailed that big rock, it would have been all over. After my CV joint broke on my quad, I was disappointed I hadn't achieved my goal of making it through, but it seemed miniscule as soon as the true tragedy struck that day. It got everybody thinking, and even though none of the guys I rode with going up to Birchwood in the Beretta had seat belts on, I noticed that everyone was wearing one on the way back.

If only everyone could think of safety beforehand, instead of after the fact.

PICTURES of the Trail and Quads (none of the accident) at: http://spaces.msn.com/members/bryguy...DLdw!330.entry

 

WOW! I hope your buddy pulls through OK. Did he just not see the rock due to dusty conditions?

 

By your pictures it looks like you were on trail 31 S into Rusk county. I was also on that trail Sunday and had an excellent time, one of the best trails that I have been on. With all the rain last night and today can imagine how they will be... even better. Also looks like those rutted pictures third row from bottem was a bit off the trail too.

 

We were heading west into the sun at about 5 p.m. or so, and things were quite dusty on the road. Those were probably contributing factors, but none of us believe those ITP Mud Lites that the King Quad had could make that curve at 40 mph. Scott had stated that "the thing just wouldn't turn", and he went into the ditch of the road, smacking into the rock. He was a really skilled rider, so I can only guess he wasn't used to the handling of those big-lugged mud tires at fast speeds.

It sounds like he has a few more days in the hospital, but certainly MANY months of healing ahead. Like any other die-hard quad guy, he asked "How's my quad?", despite his own injuries.

The whole thing is definitely an experience I don't want to repeat...