Jacob

The drive began nice and easy, but soon turned crazy.  We were careening around corners and everything would've remained fun, except I got the idea in my head to get air on one of the hills.  I always do it with the quad and didn't see why not to with the truck.

As Ruth yelled, "No, not this hill," from the back, I put it into a lower gear and pressed down on the gas pedal.

There was maybe a small moment when getting air was a rush; I really don't remember that.  As my chin connected with the steering wheel and the poor front end dove into the ground, I truly regretted it.  The whole thing was predictable, had I thought of it.  The little hill was quite steep and a dry puddle with another hill was immediately on the other side, creating a dip.  We were airborne for 28 feet, when the truck hit the ground so hard it dented in the front bumper and pushed the box into the cab.  I felt sick.

Photo: the mark in the gravel (by my foot) is where the bumper hit the gravel and the little hill is where the last person is standing (farthest from the camera).

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