It was uuhhhh the motorcycle's fault.....

The first time I ever drove a motorcycle was quite possibly the most I've laughed in a given amount of time. I remember speeding (--granted when it's your first time, you're put-put-putting more than you are speeeeeeding..... ) down a Logan residential road through crisp November air with my 'tutor' on the back of me ....
I basically thought it was the funnest/funniest thing I'd experienced since Disneyland, which, coupled with the thrill of knowing I could kill myself, made it even more exciting . . . . !!


Ya know what? I lied. The verrrry first time I operated a motorcycle (not drove... no, not exactly....) was when I was like 14 or something and no one told me anything about gears and shifting and I just went. It was in California with my crazy Uncle Michael's bike and I crashed into a tree about 4 minutes after I got on.... Yeah, that doesn't count... back to the former anecdote.......

So the second time I drove (yes, now we can say drove) a motorcycle was last Saturday. The past library-quarantined semester of school made me itch for an ATVing day so we took two motorcycles and the 4-wheeler out to the West Desert and played with our toys.
I got on the smaller bike and my dad reminded me of the ups and downs of the gears, the front brake, back brake, etc. I rode it around for a few minutes and it all seemed to come back pretty easily. I got a little tired of the dirt parking area so I turned onto a little trail that looked harmless enough........

Soon, the trail started to have waves in it... which became larger and larger... and the ground slanted...
I was still fresh so I frantically tried to downshift... but the thing wouldn't downshift!
I tried again and again, but no luck. So I figured I must have the ups 'n downs mixed up and so I shifted the other way. BAD IDEA. By this time the trail was getting more challenging and I was in at least third gear. Every time I pulled in the clutch, the engine screamed at me! As I looked to the trail ahead, all I could think was how can I get off this runaway bike without completely butchering myself?... and .... I'm gonna die.... I'm gonna die... I can barely pay attention to maneuvering around these rocks and ruts while remembering not to murder the bike....

I was going entirely too fast when I hit the biggest waves yet. Because of my speed, they turned into jumps. Yes, folks, seven minutes after getting on the motorcycle I was airborne. Twice. And these weren't piddly 2 inch heights. On the last one, I was a good foot and a half in the air. When I landed, I was plum astounded I was still on the thing.
Then came the hairpin turn where the dirt slanted at a 45 degree angle.
HA! Oh, Em, if you thought it was miraculous that you landed this bike after jumps..... you NEVA gonna make that kind of turn.
I did the only other thing my body could think of and went right up and over the edge and down into the sagebrush.
Scrape went the legs.
Bounce went the bike.
Off went the plastic cover on the side of the motorcycle.
Off went the engine.

To this minute, I don't know how I finally managed to cut the engine. I was afraid I'd do some kind of permanent damage to the engine if I let it scream like that for any amount of time like it did when I had the clutch in....

Phew.
I'm stopped.
.......
Oh boy... is that MY heartbeat?
Excuse me while I fall over and let the adrenaline drain away........