E R N I E ' S   H O U S E   O F   W H O O P A S S

ACME Rocket Powered ATV Anyone?

All I can say is, Ugh.

For those of you wondering where the fuck I went and why the fuck the site hasn't been updated, here's your explanation. You see it was August 31st, the day before Labor Day, and me and a couple guys from work went out riding our ATV's at a sand pit somewhere in Nowhereville, Mass. Now said sand pits are owned by a concrete company (sand being one of the ingredients to mix concrete) and in the dozen or so times we've been to this place, nothing has changed terrain-wise. No new hills, no new ditches, no construction vehicles or their tracks, no new signs, I mean nothing. It's been unchaged like this for six months, and we've all made the logical conclusion the sand pits are no longer mined, and are probably abandoned. OK, fine.

So, we're zipping along going up and down the hills, which are anywhere from 20'-25' high, and we're having ourselves a grand ol time. I crest one hill and lean back on the seat, ready to plunge downhill into the next berm. One second I'm buzzing along on terra firma and the next second, I'm not. The ground just fucking disappeared right before my eyes. The entire side of the hill had been excavated sometime within the past week and now was no longer a hill but now a cliff. So all of a sudden I'm living out a scene from of a Wile E. Coyote cartoon, flying through the air with nothing between me and the angry looking ground but two stories of fresh New England air. I hovered there midair for a split second with my eyes bugging out and a little fucking "Yipes!" sign, just an instant before I disappear in a cloud of dust and coyote hair. I think I remember hearing the plane crash sound byte they play when the boulder falls on him.

In case any of you are curious as to what your last words would be in such a catastrophic event, rest assured that mine were, "Oh Shit." I didn't scream it, I didn't yell it, but more of a loud matter-of-fact. At least, as was reported to me by my friends who heard my battle cry, and came to see what happened after the ensuing silence.

I do remember on the way down, in the 0.0000000001 seconds I had to contemplate my fate, that it was possible for me to land this. That's not to say I have the skill or experience to do so, but that it was merely possible. And I only mention this because (a) it's the only thing I remember about the accident and (b) I'm pretty sure I held onto the quad all the way down and didn't bail. Whether that was a good or bad thing, we'll never know, because I'm sure as fuck not going to re-enact it just to pacify somebody's curiosity. I can tell you this though, we found my tire tracks at the top of the cliff... no skid marks, full power right off into the wild blue yonder. Didn't even have time to touch the brakes. With something that happens that quick the only thing you really have time to do is shit your pants.

My crash landing would have been much worse had there not been some loose sand at the bottom, which I'm guessing is a byproduct of the hill's recent excavation, ironically enough. But I do know that I hit hard and have the helmet buckle imprinted in my neck to prove it. As best as anyone can figure, the quad landed nose first and then somersaulted a few times, me being thrown clear on the first revolution. I have to tip my hat to Yamaha as they sure can build em, because the only damage to the quad is a ripped seat.

Me? Good thing I drink milk. I ended up with a mild concussion, bruised spine, and a pretty sore fucking shoulder (I think it's something with my collar bone). I couldn't remember the date, my phone number, or even if I had just crashed -- I kept asking if that's what happened. To date, I don't remember the half an hour before the crash, the crash, getting up from the crash, riding my ATV back to the trucks, waiting while they were loaded up, changing back into street clothes, the entire ride back to drop everything off at one of the guy's houses, the ride back to my house (someone else drove both legs), going up three flights of stairs to my place, taking my contacts out, or getting into bed. I suppose it could have been a lot worse, but I'm not going to sit here and say I was "lucky" because if I were, I wouldn't have driven off a fucking cliff to begin with, right?

My doc gave me a prescription for "hydrocodone" which as best I can tell is generic vicodin. And how the fuck anyone can become addicted to this shit is beyond me. They're like instant little hangovers. Pop one pill and you get to enjoy some serious nausea, a swimming head, and fucking get this... body aches. What the fuck? The only way these things work as painkillers is you're too busy trying to not throw up to worry about what hurts.

1. ATV Crash Pics, Part Deux. A little forensic evidence in my latest ATV crash. For starters, see if you can tell where the hill ends, because I sure as hell couldn't. And for a little perspective, that brown stick in the background is a telephone pole. Look closely from a little further back and you'll notice my tracks going right off into the wild blue yonder. And here's a shot looking straight down, which is tough to get perspective on with the ground all one color, but the quad at the bottom is six feet long. Here's my Raptor's only visible damage, the torn seat. Let us all give a moment of silence for my helmet, which galiantly sacrificed its life so that I could live to ride another day. Here's me with a concussion, notice my battered brain bucket on the trailer to my right. No visible wounds to speak of this time. The lesson? Always wear your lid, folks.Chi-kow!