Last Sunday, Dan and I were riding the tracks and woods in Hackettstown, we ran into a guy on a quad who told us how to get to Pyronics. Cool!!! We took off and found it a short time later. After playing in the mud and exploring the place, Dan got brave and thought he could climb one of the steeper hills on his 300 Prairie. He got all of the way to the top, hit the lip and got tossed! The quad did a flip, rotated in mid-air and landed on all four to ride back down the hill minus Dan! He got away with a slightly mangled front rack. Here's the REAL stupid part---As he's sitting there in shock,
I get a massive brain fart and decide I can climb the hill to the left of the one he tried.
I nail the gas, and all is well untill halfway up I hit an unseen rock which flips the nose in the air promptly tossing me off. I land on my back, quad lands on my leg, I see handlebars heading for my melon, so I tuck into a ball. It goes over me and I turn around to watch my previously new quad barrel roll about 8 times before coming to rest against a small tree. I run down there and we get it off the tree. Both racks are mangled beyond repair, winch is bent, as is one brake lever. Leg hurts, but I can walk, no blood or ripped jeans. We ride the 8 miles back to the truck and load up. We're standing there B.S.ing and I decide to check out the "bruise" on my leg. Turns out to be a 2 inch gash straight to the bone on the right side of my left shin. One trip to the ER, 14 stitches, and countless Lectures from hostpital staff. I shoulda stayed home.
