My uncle and cousins always had Yamahas. One had a 350 and the other two were 250 Enduros. We were riding at Draper on weekends where it seemed there was always an ambulance stationed. Don't know how many hot tail pipes I've grabbed assisting fellow cliff climbers over the top. I never was the guy that tried a new spot on those cliffs because they had a nasty lip you had to break to "top over". We always had quite the time there. I enjoyed it when the F-4's flew over at low levels. You couldn't even feel your bike running with those bad boys overhead. I think I have performed about every wreck you can on a bike. One weekend we went to Hinton to ride the river back and had a blast. I had my 175 standing on it's nose with the plug removed pumping water out of the cylinder when I looked up and saw a hood of a pickup with 454 in big letters headed right toward me. Well, the bike went to the left and I went to the right and the 454 hooded truck went in between. It was followed by several dune buggies. We later found out we had picked a race day for the local race club for our outing. It took awhile but we got back to town.