So I figured my "misfortunes" might interest somebody, so here is a little story for you guys, just to make you feel that much better about yourselves, or perhaps reminisce at a similar event years ago. Take your pick. So I was riding along on my 91' xr250L two days ago (friday) on my way home from school. I had a few minutes to burn before going to a graduation party (about 10min) so I road around with no goal in mind. My attention was caught when I saw a nice little of road "path" in a field behind some houses. (live near the prairie/suburban neighborhoods). My bike is relatively new (for me) and I've never really taken it anywhere worthy of calling off road, so I decided to try and "stretch her legs". I was going through some really mellow stuff, nothing keeping me on full alert, when I decided to make it up on a little ridge further up the path. So I give her a little gas just to hop up on the little lip. Next thing I know I'm flying (more like fall) 10 feet into a huge ditch on the other side. Mind you I had all street gear on, nothing super dirt oriented, and a massive backpack with text books in it strapped to me like a straight jacket (along with my BRAND NEW Gmax helmet that I got that day). Its hard to explain and even really remember how it all happened, but I do know that it was the best and worst mud that I have ever experience in my life. My front wheel was lodged at least three fourths of the way into into this pit and my rear tire was teetering above my head, holding on to the wall of the ditch by what seemed to be magic. I'm sure something happened between this point because I know the bike didn't just gracefully get stuck, but all I remember was a storm of swear and gut wrenching laughs as I attempted to orient myself without being entirely drown by the machine looming over my head. Trying to get this thing down was, for lack of hyperbole, terrible. Although I'm sure I've lost all attention at this point I'll try no to linger on with details of how to get a bike unstuck, but honestly I was concerned for a while that I would not even be able to get myself out of that thing, let alone the bike! Once I got my gear off (helmet, jackets X2, backpack, gloves, ect.) I got the thing purring again, but with about a 3ft width, 10ft height and nearly bald tires, upstream was the only option. After much squabbling and flailing of extremities and no sign of the sheer cliff granting passage out I stopped a quarter mile upstream. Here, I was greeted by my two best friends, Rattle Snake #1 and rattle Snake #2. I know, It seems implausible or maybe insignificant to write this story that is potentially only interesting to me, however, if you care, my reaction was "well I guess I'm canceling my plans...this may take longer than expected." Ultimately after 5 hours, seven various people, and a truck, I got the thing out. Would not ride out by itself, there was sooo much mud everywhere the wheels wouldn't turn and the bike weighed probably twice as much. literally every nook and cranny in the frame was fill with the thickest, heaviest mud you've ever seen. People keep asking me "what lesson I learned" and I tell them, "crashing Off-road is wayyy better than On-road". Sorry there are no epic pictures of me in the hole, but there are some after I drove it home and right after I got it out and pulled most of the mud off. Let me know if I should not post things like this again, because I'm sure they'll continue to happen.