I Knoll more then you!

Here are a few of the compilations I put together from our second trip to the Knolls.




This hill really is this steep. I won't even drive down it and 140 and Pete shot up it like rockets.

I already Knoll.

Sorry it has been so long kids. I worked at Snowbasin this winter, for Face Shots Photography, until I ate it snowboarding and landed on my camera. This "landing" forced the camera into a spot between my ribs that is way to small for a camera.

This was sad.

Sad, because, the Snowbasin gig was the coolest I had ever had and now I couldn't stand up for any period of time.

Anyways, I have sense had my ribs put back and can now stand for minutes on end. So I took my shiny new dirt bike out to the Knolls to ride. Luckily when I got there my front tire was almost flat so I just took pictures instead. If you need more pics you can find them HERE!

Lets start with the best. Below is a four shot sequence that I lucked into.
In them Chris almost wheelies over...

Then saves it...

Then un-saves it...

Then celebrates with a hand stand...Brad gettin' some.

140 making it.

Chris, 140 and Brad.

St. Anthony's Idaho

Ah the dunes.

Sand dunes that is.

St. Anthony Sand Dunes in Idaho.
It was not our best trip, but it was a trip. Let me give you a break down:
9 hours of driving
4 broken motorcycles
60 gallons of diesel
3ish hours of sleep

So enjoy the pictures.

View from the top of Choke Cherry
(click it for mo' bigger. (It's worth it.))
10 minutes out and 210 wrecked twice.

Pete's burnt clutch.

Our white-trash 140.

Removing Pete's bike.

It's just like Saving Private Ryan.

Extracting the 140 mobile.

Celebrating the demises.

"Prob' the flux-capasitor."

Spares. All spares.

210 workin' it.

Who wouldn't want to be here?

3 wrecks, 1 roll-over, a blown enigine.

It's not quite riding season yet where I live so we had to drive a few hours to Sand Hollow near St. George. It was a fun three day ride and a nice break from winter.

Choices. Choices.

And more choices.

Hooray for piles!

It’s story time. I was planning on telling you the one about the time a priest a duck and a trumpet walk into the bar but I forget the punch line. So I will make something up…
Once there was a man, living in a town. He was a plain man living in a nondescript town. This man and his town were located somewhere near nowhere in Utah. As you can imagine, that’s a boring place to be located.
He was a good guy and did right by his family and friends. He worked hard at whatever his livelyhood was and ate well most of the time.
Until one day he heard a whisper, “If you pile it sky will come.”
Now as you can imagine he was confused. But that’s to be understood because that is a confusing phrase. “If you pile it Sky will come.” It’s nonsencicale. What is “it”? Why would he want “it” in a pile? Why would he want “sky” to come?
So he ignored the whisper and went back to his life. But the whisper didn’t go away. “If you pile it Sky will come.” “If you pile it Sky will come.” “If you pile it Sky will come.” All day everyday.
“Fine!” he said to the no one that was whispering. And just like that it stopped.
But this wasn’t as easy as the whisper had made it sound. He spent weeks piling different things only to have the whisper return telling him, “If you pile it Sky will come.” And it would stay until he tried piling something else. Each time he would get a nice pile of something going the whisper would return, “If you pile it Sky will come.” And this is the way it went for him. He would start a nice pile of books and when the pile was nearly six feet high the whisper would come, “If you pile it Sky will come.” So he cleaned up all the books and started on chairs. At seven and a half feet the whisper returned, “If you pile it Sky will come.” So he switched to shoes, then pens, then cheese cake, then cows (horrible mistake and possibly the worst pile ever, but in his defense its very hard to pile something that can walk off), then shoes, then … and the list goes on like this for some time.
Three months, 107 piles, and countless whispers later he tried sand. No whispers at three feet. No whispers at 10 feet. Nothing but beautiful silence at forty feet. After renting a considerable amount of equipment he reached 230 feet. If you have never seen a pile of sand this high, its quite a thing. He stepped back to admire his pile and smiled. This was a pile to be proud of. After months of work he could sit back and wait for “sky” to come.
He hadn’t been sitting for an hour when the whisper came again, “If you pile it Sky will come.” This time he was mad. He had piled it. Now it was “sky’s” turn. He was done. So he leaned back and closed his eyes. The whisper came again, “If you pile it Sky will come.”

“No.” He said.

“If you pile it Sky will come.”

“No! I piled, now “sky” can come.”

“Higher.” Came the whisper.

After all this time the whisper said something new.
He stood up and started to pile sand again. And he kept piling until the day he died.
And a fantastic pile it became. So big in fact that it was named after the sand pile of sand piles, the Sahara. So Little Sahara sand dunes were born. And now I (Sky) go there and ride my 4wheeler around with my friends.
Here are the pics to prove it.

This is one of my favorites. Thanks to Paul the model.

Cort climbing Jim Hill on Paul's Banshee.Cort jumping one section of Jim Hill going about 50mph.

Cool pic of me taken by Hayley with my point and shot.

If you didn't know Matt is "STAFF" at the dunes.

Tree.

Cort's ring.

P climbing again. He was basically born to do this.