If you insist.
..I was racing against a friend during a late-night Thrash around the hills on our moutainbikes. We were riding through a stretch of fast and downhill field. We did it all the time.

This time was to be different: This time we were stoned, and it was dusk.

Leering at each other like slavering hounds with their heads out of the car window at 70mph, we pounded on the pedals and hurled ourselves onwards into oblivion.

We were moving at warp speed into the darkness. Scotty had nothing on us - He was right - His engines couldn't take any more - ours however were pushing us faster and faster until the world was a blur
- We were going faster than humanly possible
- We were laughing like maniacs
- The feeling of speed was stupendous
- the wind tore at our faces and clothes
- our own howls of delight were lost to the Rushing air
- the rushing air was ..... GONE!

And so was my mate.

And so was my bike.

And I was flying... and it wasn't deliberate. *Oh dear*
*mental shrug* "What goes up must come d..."

*Thud*

I was in pain. Really serious pain. I was alone in the dark, on the ground and clutching at my nuts which only a few seconds ago had been quite happy. Now they were drawing a lot of attention to themselves.... I was a bloody and mangled heap of hurt.

It was then that I heard the noise. A deep guttural gurgling-wheezing noise that had no right to exist. It was scaring the pap out of me until I realised where it was coming from... It was coming from me.

I tried to stop it, but failed. The biggest thing on my mind was that I was making an embarrassing wheezy gurgling noise and was powerless to stop. I was still wondering how to stop this incessant bubbly groaning, when the cause of my pain made itself apparent. Suddenly something considerably bigger and a lot more worrying took pole position in my brain:

Thundering towards me though the murkiness was a particularly irate Bull. It was making a noise that's hard to describe. "pissed off Bovine" doesn't quite cover it.
Try imagining the noise that a Gorilla would make if he had his hands cuffed to his ankles, was wearing a Ball-Gag, a pink tutu and nipple-clamps, as you shove a Giant, Freshly-boiled and steaming-hot Pineapple up his tightly puckered tea-towel holder, and knock it home with a croquet mallet... Make it louder, and then add Thundering hooves as a background noise....

Un-nerving? You don't know the half of it.

The Bull arrived in the same space that I was occupying roughly 2 seconds after I had first sighted it. It wasn't "just passing though".

*********

I can assure you that if you're going to ride hell-for-leather through a field in the dark, your pre-flight check-list should probably involve a cursory glance around for standing-and-sleeping cows.

Ride around them. Do not under any circumstances ride INTO them.
Especially if they are large bulls.
Especially if you're doing 40mph.

**************

I was caught in a one-Bull stampede. I rate this experience quite near the bottom on my scale of "bad experiences". Those who know me will confirm that this probably means it wasn't that enjoyable. You'll have heard the phrase "Better than a poke in the eye with a sharp stick" On this occasion they'd have been wrong. Very wrong.

Eventually I managed to crawl away from my impromptu bovine lap-dance and found my mangled bike just as my mate re-appeared.

The damage list was surprisingly small
1 Kona bike frame bent out of shape (but still able to ride home)
1 snapped handlebar. (bull arse)
2 broken ribs, (initial bull impact)
1 fractured finger, (bull stampage)
2 bruised nuts, (handlebar stem)
1 torn Scrote. (see above)

During the one-on-one stampede I was convinced that I was going to die.
The Pain in my scrote for the next few days made me wish I had.

Apologies to the Farmer for arse-raping his bull with A mountain bike.
( Humpty Dumpty was Pushed Is unaware of having any limits., Wed 30 Apr 2008, 11:49, 4 replies)

I liked this story the first time you posted it
And I'll still give it a click.
( chickenlady b3ta's very own Elizabeth Taylor, Wed 30 Apr 2008, 12:04, closed)

Ouch....
Riding like a loon in the dark isn't without its hazards. That however takes the biscuit.

Have a click.
(Bicycle Repairman "you're also a bit of a wanker", Wed 30 Apr 2008, 12:15, closed)

*clicks*
Well told good sir!

Still, my most sincerest sympathies to your scrotum for what it had to go through.
(tarbin tarbis, tarbit, tarbamus, tarbimus, tarbant, Wed 30 Apr 2008, 12:56, closed)

Fantastic imagry

*clicky*
( flirting with badgers What? It sounded good at the time., Wed 30 Apr 2008, 15:15, closed)