Wouldn't it be ironic to have trail ridden most of my life, yet be maimed by some other buffoon while walking down a hill?
I was riding down at the day drinkers park today (that would be Wildcat). Towards the end, i came across a group of mostly quads, spread out on both ends of a hill. As i pulled up, one of the guys at the bottom was getting off his machine, and he said something about someone having trouble on the climb. I pulled forward around a very slight curve where more machines were parked and observed a Brute Force on it side up the hill, with a some guys trying to right it. I walked up with the guys at the bottom to help if needed.
The hill was steep enough to demand attention...and would be trouble if you got sideways, but was hardly a widowmaker. Once righted, the BF rode on to the top with some ease....so not sure what happened there. So we started walking down, while the others at the top headed back up. Among the machines at the top was a decent Grandpa (300 Honda 4x4) parked sideways on a very slight grade. As we were walking down, one of the guys beside me commented that "now <name that escapes me> has rolled his...".
As i looked back, the 300 was on its side...and one of the guys at the top came over and helped him put it back on its wheels. What happened next simply defies any explanation...
I guess he decided it had flooded and wouldn't start (never tried), so he decided to just ride it while letting gravity bring it on down the hill. I saw him start, but turned my back as i was walking on down when i heard the sound of tires rolling...faster and faster. Then his buddy made an "oh s***" remark and i looked back to see this 300 coming down the hill at what looked to be complete freewheel speed.
As i mentioned, there was a slight curve at the bottom. At the exit was my 500 on the outside, and his buddies' machines on the inside, completely blocking the trail. And of course...me walking on the outside of the curve. So knowing he was going to have a tough time making the curve and stopping at his speed, i immediately broke into a full sprint hoping i could at least put the Pioneer between us or somehow not be taken out when he went sailing off the mountain (which would have been serious injury, if not death).
Just as i got behind the Pioneer expecting a violent collision and/or shoved into me and off the bank, he made managed to make the curve and slammed into the back of his buddies Brute, moving it a few feet and bumping it harmlessly into the Pioneer. My initial thought was that he'd had brake failure. The thing is...he OBVIOUSLY slowed down significantly in the last several feet, or he would have broken both machines...and himself. So it appears that he was simply too scared to hit the brakes enough to keep the machine under control, and i have no ideal why.
When it becomes obvious no damage was done, we all kinda chuckle about it while I'm thinking these guys must have woke up yesterday and decided to become trail riders. His buddy makes a comment that "this guy (referring to me) is probably saying i need to get the hell away from these guys...". We all chuckle again, i tell them to have a good one, and promptly get the hell out of there before something else happens...and once out of sight, say to myself "holy s***, what was that?".