The loud powerful growl of the four strokes could be heard bouncing off the steep sandy hills of the old abandoned sand pit, as the bike sped across the rocky bottom of the pit; leaving the powerful aroma of exhaust trailing behind it, starting its climb up one of the many hills that make up the sand pit. The bike, a Honda with the snow white fenders and a dull chrome colored engine make the bike look rugged yet still give it a flashy appearance that set it apart from the other bike,   which was another Honda, with the original Honda look of clean crisp red and whiter fenders. As the white bike starts its long climb up the sand covered hills, its tires, which worn from years of use, shot sand high into the clear blue sky and rained it down behind the bike. Upon reaching the top of the hill the rider stopped to take a breath of the crisp fresh air, breathing in the smells of dirt mixed with gas and exhaust and a faint smell of fall in the air. There was a wind coming up out of the sand pit and it cut around the riders head and chest whipping through his clothes and hair, the helmet that he puts back on is smelling of heat and sweat, although it is a crisp cool day, the protective clothing keeps the rider very warm. As the bike roared back to life the rider could feel the steady vibration of the engine running. Joining the other rider at the bottom of the hill and stopping for a break to take a sip of cold refreshing blue-raspberry Gatorade. As the bikes head out and the loud sounds of them disappear the sound of birds chirping in the trees and the occasional goose flying overhead is now audible.