Thanksgiving at our house is different than most others. It's not even at our house. 
This year it was out at a dusty little corner of the desert just a bit north of Joshua Tree and south of Johnson Valley. We had WAY too much food (as usual) deep fried a couple of turkeys, tossed some shoes, some watched football on the portable dish, but mostly enjoyed good friends and company.
The riding was a wide range between soft sand, rolling whoops on dirt trails, jagged granite shards that loved to bash skidplates (did not have any tire issues tho) and moon boulders 
that loved to get lodged under our bikes and lift all wheels off the ground so you have to get off and lift the bike over. It played minor havoc with the 3 wheelers and quads, and made the guys on bikes wish they were on something else.
It was good getting out again. The sweet air right after it rains is something you must breathe for yourself. We saw some neat stuff, played hard, got lost a few times, stayed up late around smoky fires, and nobody got hurt.Can't complain about that at all.
2 comments:
OK. You are having way too much fun. I gotta start brining Patrick out to this stuff.
I grew up with the formal family dinner, everyone dressed up, and all the good china out on Thanksgiving.
Except the year we went camping on the beach in San Felipe when I was 8 or so. I can't recall just how the dinner went, but I remember a lot about the trip. Including my Barbie & Ken having their own tent trailer & getting lots of sand in the wheels. Also had a dune buggy, and a horse.
And we collected lots of shells.
And my dad got stuck in the sand with the Pontiac Catalina towing the tent trailer.
Hee.
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