Being the awesome rider that I am (cough, cough) I thought I'd post some photos from our ride on Memorial Day. Found this gnarly little goat trail that used to be a circa 1930's mining road. We rode it for quite a while going from one abandoned mining area to another. The further we got down the drainage, the more scarce the trail became. It was washed out in several places and one of them got me! Well, almost. The old WR450 decided she wanted to go down instead of across and down she went! Almost ten feet and nearly straight down, just above the river! As she's sliding down (and I'm along for the slide) I'm looking at the river thinking 'Oh crap!!' and then she just stopped...parked right on the skid plate by the only rock on the bank! At this point, I couldn't go down (I could have, but I'd of sunk her and there was no way out on the other side and so the only option was up. UP?? I took off my helmet and just sat there. Now what? Well, being the dirtbike boyscout that I am (I pack everything in my fanny pack) I pulled out my tow strap and proceeded to tie off the bike. It took four of us (three on top and me on the bottom, in the creek) to get it back up the hill. I'll be honest...I was sure wishing I had a 125 two-smoke right about then! Anyway, here's some photos for your amusement. In the drink...ALMOST!