You rip back the throttle… the back wheel spins out of control and dirt arcs like a fat rooster tail. The rubber grips and you’re thrust forward like a bull at an open gate. Fumes are an adrenalin shot to the heart as you surge forward, just about hanging on. You reach that point where Reason hands the bike to Instinct. “Here you go”, says Reason, “over to you”. Instinct doesn’t waver. “I got this pal… see you in a bit”. And then it’s like you’re watching yourself from outside of your body. You launch off like a tracer bullet… So high you swear your ears just popped and suddenly Reason comes back for a second and you understand that you’re actually going to survive this thing and that life is never going to feel as awesome as it does at this exact, precise second.
Welcome to the Thrill.