So my husband went four-wheeling today. The Black Friday ride is an annual tradition (though it was Black Saturday this year due to rain) and is what’s called an LFD ride.
Left. For. Dead.
This is a bunch of idiots pounding through the woods on ATVs at speeds you’d probably be surprised ATVs can reach. Seriously. During one Black Friday LFD ride, a machine broke down and had to be towed. They towed that machine through the woods faster than I’ve ever ridden mine on open trail.
Today my husband almost bit it hard. He wheelied up over a hill and when he landed, he heard a funny noise. Before his could consider what, exactly, that might mean, his ball joint snapped and his left front tire went horizontal on him.
For reference: my machine, with its vertical left front tire (because his can’t be taken out of the truck for pics because the sides of the bed are holding the front end together). Imagine what the machine does when that wheel is suddenly on its side:
If it had happened a few minutes before or a few minutes after, there would have been rocks or stumps or rough terrain for that horizontal tire to hit. I’m not sure how fast he was going but, since they’d just gone through some muck, probably only about 40mph. Still, if that tire had caught and flipped the machine, flinging him into the trees or rocks, the best-case scenario probably would have been a helicopter ride out of there.
Thankfully, there was a short section of loose gravel, so the tire didn’t grab as he locked up the brakes and rode it to a stop.
So we came this close to our lives being irrevocably changed and I have one more thing to be grateful for this Thanksgiving weekend.
(I’ve pretty much covered the possible names to call him, from Asshole to Zipperhead, and I still haven’t burned through the irrelevant, post-incident anxiety.)