A very long time ago, in a much younger and more flexible body... I was chasing another rider on a 250 enduro, on my 100cc two smoke. Doing well and keeping up with the better (equipped and experienced) rider, having a great time chasing him along the trails. In a set of sandy whoop dee doos… I was traveling much too quickly for my sub four inches of suspension travel to compensate. Hit a small (brick sized) rock and endo'd, went hurtling off the bike as the front wheel dug into the ground sideways, face first into the sand. Hurting everywhere, mouth and goggles filled with sand, face down, I hear the bike screaming away... it had fallen on the throttle side and was laying there... wide open throttle... screaming away! I got to my feet (not very quickly) and stumbled towards the sound of my bike blowing itself up. Spitting out sand and trying to get the goggles off, and sand out of the eyes... I stumbled right onto the rear wheel. The spinning Yokohama Super Digger of death (a 4.10 with the side knobs trimmed to fit where a 3.00 was supposed to go)... it proceeded to toss me about twenty feet into the weeds. I lay there in even more pain, and blissfully heard the bike run out of fuel... the petcock on the left side.... still makes me smile... I was worried more about the bike.