Many years ago, my family had a few small off-road motorcycles, we’d go explore the countryside near and around my city, in northern Mexico.
One time we were looking to cross a usually tame little creek made very wide by recent rains, my dad saw a possible spot to cross but there was a patch of muddy sand to deal with first…
…suddenly we hear my dad terror-screaming - “HELP! I’m sinking in quicksand!”
And sink he did! All the way up to his knees. That’s as deep as the spot got. Turning dad’s bike around and pulling it out of that sticky muck was a bitch and a half, though.
Ok but I’m still afraid of quick sand.
Many years ago, my family had a few small off-road motorcycles, we’d go explore the countryside near and around my city, in northern Mexico.
One time we were looking to cross a usually tame little creek made very wide by recent rains, my dad saw a possible spot to cross but there was a patch of muddy sand to deal with first…
…suddenly we hear my dad terror-screaming - “HELP! I’m sinking in quicksand!”
And sink he did! All the way up to his knees. That’s as deep as the spot got. Turning dad’s bike around and pulling it out of that sticky muck was a bitch and a half, though.
And spontaneous human combustion