Death Defiance First, After, Cake!

So, time for a new tale of death defiance and derring do.

Or not.

One bright winter's day in the rural town of Rexburg, ID, I decided I wanted to go visit my best friend, Robert. He lived not far from my house on "the bench" - a long hill that ran for some distance. (For those of you familiar with the area, he lived just down from the water tower on the west side. Because Rexburg typically gets a lot of snow, (and this year was particularly heavy), I decided I wanted to snowmobile my way to his house. I asked my Dad for permission, jumped on his Yamaha SRV, and off I went.

I made my way south first, deciding to go up the bench on a service road that led up to our family's farm, then once up on the bench, I'd head back north to Bob's house. The ride was great, not a cloud in the sky, bright sunlight. Now, I was riding over snow, wearing sunglasses, because the light was very, very bright. And I had just gotten within sight of Bob's place when I hit Spaulding Hill - the local sledding spot.

I found myself coming down an incline, when a six foot drop off suddenly yawned in front of me. There wasn't room or time to turn. There wasn't room to stop - I would have wound up going over anyway and having the snowmobile drop on top of me. So I did the only thing I could think of.

I thought that if I floored it, I'd catch some air, and land successfully and ride away. I punched the throttle... and suddenly found myself flying head over heels through the air. When I woke up (I don't remember landing... I'm not sure how long I was out) the first thought that went through my head was "I've got to get out of the way of the snowmobile, or it'll run me over." I rolled over, looked up, and saw that I didn't have to worry about it. I had buried the SRV in the snow like a lawn dart, it's tail end protruded from the snow like some kind of bizarre monolith.

Panic ensued. I dug the snowmobile out - no damage to the skis, no damage to the body - thank goodness for the deep snow! But I couldn't get it started. So, I did the only thing I could think of. I walked the rest of the way to Bob's place. Where he informed me that he had been trying to get ahold of me so we could go to a party at a friend's house.

So, I called my Mom. I can only assume at this point, that shock made me temporarily unaware of the impending DOOM that should have resulted in that call, and the request I made. "Um, I couldn't get the snowmobile started, so I had to leave it in a field - can I go to a party?" Even more shocking is that she said "yes". So, I was eating cake and drinking soda when my Dad went out to get the snowmobile and realized what had happened. At least I survived (both the incident and the parental DOOM which was remarkably light, all things considered - a strong talking to by Mom, and the removal of long-distance snowmobile privileges).

To tell the truth, I'm curious if I'm alone in these kind of events. Tell you what - if you have a story that tops this one, I'd love to hear it. The only rule is, it has to be true. With permission, I'll post the craziest one I get. You can send a story to zach dot ricks at gmail dot com.