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Back in October 1999, went dirt biking with 2 young friends (17 and 15) at Peter's Mill in the George Washington National Forest. I was a noob and this place had some rocky gnarly stuff fora noob. We rode all morning without seeing anyone else out there, except in parking lots. I managed to crash *really badly* on a fire road going 25ish. I think I hit a bowling ball sized rock in a corner -- don't remember from about several seconds before the crash.
When I came to, I was calm and knew I was f****d up pretty good. Couldn't move, was in shock -- finger tips turning blue and black, 5" deep puncture in my right hip and a broken right cheek (displaced) and other minor injuries. Just so happens, I crashed near 3 or 4 guys on quads who saw what happened. They came to help. Amazingly, one of them had a cell phone -- not a common thing back in '99 -- and even more amazingly, he had enough service in this mountain to call 911 to have me hum-vee'd out to an ambulance, down the mountain to an air lift.
To this day, I feel like all the stars were aligned and someone didn't want me to die that day.
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