or 4wd vehicle to be seen parked nearby . Speaking of which , this type of situation was common along the Blackwater course . No matter how remote a location we appeared to be traversing , there were always spectators present , some with evidence of transportation nearby , other times not . Led me to wonder if these folks had parachuted , or been helicoptered , in .
So , what with us now at the top of the mountain , there was only one way to go , and that was back down . Into the woods once again , and we began descending – down and down and down and down . Very rocky , very slick . I picked my way along , always wary of those rocks . Others riders shot by , some of them careening off the trail and / or going over the bars . Ah , no thanks . I continued cautiously , and intact . We finally neared the bottom of the mountain , and I began to see sunshine ahead – another open area . As we broke free of the trees , there lay before us a wide , flat valley . No trees . Just coarse grass and a few bushes here and there . The valley was very wide – maybe a halfmile ? It was long , too , as I couldn ’ t even see the other end . What I did see was quite the amazing sight . Motorcycles – hundreds of them , stretched out in the distance . Quite colorful in the bright sunshine . There was no specific trail to speak of , but each of the bikes ahead were all moving in one general direction , spread out over possibly a hundred yards or so , to the left and to the right . Then I realized – these were “ the bogs ” that everyone had been talking about . Some sort of a natural body of collected soil from the surrounding mountains , which had created this pancake-flat surface of mucky material , generally covered over with the coarse grass I mentioned . Likely one could walk across it with no issues at all , but with hundreds of spinning knobbies tearing through it . . .
So off I went , grabbing gears , as there were no obstructions to stop us from going as fast as we possibly could . I got into fifth , and managed to keep the KTM on the pipe by fingering the clutch now and then when I encountered a bit of a soft spot . And then I was laying on my back looking straight up into a beautiful blue sky . Took a minute to figure out what was going on . No more bike underneath me , that was for sure . Got up , looked around , found the KTM – a good twenty feet behind me , sitting bolt upright . Oh yeah , I had hit one of those “ soft spots ”, and the bike just plain stopped . Momentum had of course taken me cleanly over the bars and I had evidently executed a very nice forward somersault . Must have been quite entertaining for the guys behind me .
ON THE PEGS // PAGE 170