A couple years ago my sister Ashley told me about Dirtsgiving. A few families get together to ride motorcycles, shoot guns, and then have a Thanksgiving feast... in the dirt. (okay, they had plates) Since we recently got Surrons, and enjoy riding, we decided to join them. Everyone had a blast, and I think we'll make it a tradition. We only went down for two nights and next year Mike wants to go for longer, although we don't know if we'll skip dinner. I like having a stove and home comforts for the big day.
Audrey didn't have a motorcycle, so we stopped at Walmart and got her a Razor brand. It had just the right amount of umph for her first time. She and Jonny had a blast riding. Ashley's kids became adept riders quickly and enjoyed going off jumps.
I thought our boys would spend their time on the bikes, but they spent it shooting guns. Lots of ammo was used during our trip. Mike and Dave even went to town for bike breaks and game back with explosive that we all enjoyed blowing up.
I learned a lesson in patience. I had been irritated that the boys hadn't done something, so I jumped on a bike and took off, not realizing it was in sport mode. I didn't expect the kick and very quickly laid it down along with myself. I hit my hip and popped open the skin. Chesley's husband did a great job with some butterfly bandages, but I went into instacare when we got home and got six stitches. (My frowny face was so I could add it to the "sad for Sarah" album)
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