So I told this story in another thread and thought I would add it to the Camp Fire Artifacts.
This is the story of how I broke my ankle. This was a great day up until this point.
Let's begin with a picture of the area, shall we;
http://i1014.photobucket.com/albums/af269/ridehardyz450f/BC/Rut.jpg
If you look at the center trail, you will see a rut. That runs all the way up the hill and is deep enough to swallow the bike past the pegs. Well I got about 3/4 of the way up this hill and needed to come down. The problem is I got on the wrong side of the rut when heading down and I normally am on the gas going down, I had nowhere to go, but into the rut and crash hard and get an airlift or pin it more, loft the front up and hang on. I figured I was going to die anyways, so I pinned it harder. I hit the rut and it threw me into the bushes between the center trail and the one to the right. I was wide open at this point in 3rd gear and I hit a stump or something with my left foot that threw me completely out of control. I somehow pulled it off and when I rolled up to my group, I felt the pain go shooting right up my leg and new something was wrong. The look on my friend's face told me the pain I must of been displaying on my face. Needless to say, we were about 8 miles from the truck I was the only one that knew how to get back, so I rode her out.
Here is another picture of the guys loading up my truck for me while of course I stood there taking pictures.
http://i1014.photobucket.com/albums/af269/ridehardyz450f/BC/Picture105.jpg
My truck was a 5 speed manual and my son was 14 at the time so no DL. I was driving through the canyon back home (San Fransquito) and was going to have him drive me home, but he fell asleep on me. Do you know how cool it is to shift gears constantly in a truck with a broken Tib and Fib and you feel the bones banging into each other?
Here is the new hardware that I am carrying around with me now.
Hope you all enjoyed.
OUCH is all I have to say...I sprained mine once, I swear I hit the ankle on the ground when it rolled.
) with our colored ribbon. We got into this flat track race up the road toward's Mike's and I just slide underneath my partner to take the lead when I came around the corner all sideways and met the front of a locals pickup truck coming the other way. 
I squared up his cattle guard and flew up his hood and bounced off the front window and fell to the ground. Luckily I did not damage or break his window and nothing but a couple scratched to the bike. I got up and brushed myself off as the driver got out of his truck and was freaking out in Spanish. I gestured that I was good to go and grabbed my bike and off we went.
. They start giving us the international language sign to pull a wheelie. So my buddy lofts the front end up and pulls a sweet wheelie down the street. Well I started 
, I don't want to disappoint the kids, so I loft up the front end on my 250 and there I am pulling a sweet wheelie down the street with a Case of Corona on my saddle. Probably one of the best wheelies I have ever done. The kids are jumping up and down and I am a hero. I go wheeling by my buddy and he is freaking out. I set her down and off we ride out of town.
, we crack him one open and give him a toast and enjoy a cold one together.
...so here it comes again if I did!
) hauling azzzz around a big sweeper when WHAM he ran straight into a cows azz..........we didn't see it happen being the tail of this dog but I guess he hit her pretty hard...the cow trotted off but not too far to join the rest of the herd. we roll up, Ed picks himself up dusts himself off and said MAN what the hell just happened...Neil, my buddies dad said you just clocked that cow in the ass...you alright? Yeah I guess, bending rubbing everything making sure he aint broke when he notices his front number plate is missing...Now, you've got to know Ed, he's a goofy sum-bitch)...You guys see my front number plate anywhere? We looked for it and it is no where to be found...now remember, the cow he hit didn't run off too far...we look over at her and she's standing there looking at us (actually Ed) with a real pissed off look on her face. He looks at us and asks you think....naw, no way.........we weren't about to walk over and check since she was pissed and again what are the odds the plate got STUCK IN HER BUTT? Well, that's his story and he's stuck to it ever since...as for his bike and the rest of the ride. He never got it running, no rope, so the OLD MEN took off their belts (all of them were wearing jeans 
), buckled them together and towed Ed back to camp. In the mean time Steve and I rode out front making sure we were going the right direction (we had no idea, they just pointed and we rode)...the area when up on the plateaus looks flat, you can't see a canyon until you're right next to it...We had ridden for a while and decided to stop and wait for the other guys to catch up because we weren't sure where the heck we were so we sat and waited, and waited, and waited (no refreshments...water, nuttin) for what seemed like hours...finally they ride up. Well, you find camp? HECK NO...no idea where we are....they took off, rode up not even 100 yards and there's the canyon with our camp...we sat there (less than 100 yards away from a cold beer) the entire time wondering if we were lost!!!!!! 
Awesome Rez, so you guys never found the number plate?
