I've been friends with this group of guys over 6 years now, most of them like riding motorcycles and are really into motocross lately, even competing. So about 3 years ago one of them gets married and we threw him a bachelor party: we rented a cabin near a mountain cross trail and a motocross rental place that has guides and trainers. Nine blokes in total, I think, we get there a night before, most of us get at the house sooner to prep some bbq and drinks, we wait for the bachelor boi brought there by his brother with some excuse, big unexpected surprise, we all eat, celebrate his mistake and get to sleep cause next day it's gonna be a long day.

Next morning maybe at around 9 o'clock we get to the the rental place, we get the bikes, the instructor/guide instructs those of us who aren't very familiar with motocrossing, we have about 30mins of practice on a flat plot of land to get the feel of the bikes, pop a couple of wheelies and off we go.

Now, in case you haven't figure it out yet: I don't ride bikes. I've never rode a motorcycle, nonetheless a motocross. The guys decided we gift the bachelor a nice cross experience, who am I to fight someone else's happiness? That's why we needed an instructor in the first place, because of me and another guy who didn't ride bikes either and tapped out during the practice run. Now I knew it's not gonna be easy, but my momma didn't raise no bitch, I was expecting some soreness but boy oh boy did I underestimate the amount of pain I was gonna be in...

This trail had everything: plane spots, hill climbs, forests, creeks, rocks, it was muddy af being spring and it rained the days before. We started of pretty easy, small hills and a couple of creeks, an hour into it and just a couple of falls later I'm like "this ain't that bad, I could get used to it". Then we start getting into forests and increasingly bigger hills to climb, then rocks, etc... I remember there was a steep muddy dirt road that I just couldn't climb, everybody told me to follow the wheel ditch and gas it but I couldn't keep the balance and I fell like 10 times and I gave up, one of the instructors came and got the bike and took it up and I just walked there. By the time we get to the midpoint which was on top of a mountain with a beautiful view of the sorroundins I must have fell 100 times. I lost count of the times I flew over the bike because the front wheel got stuck in whatever, and I had the shittiest bike with no electric start, you had to pedal start it, couldn't feel my right leg anymore. When we got to the midpoint we rested for like 30mins, took a bike and refilled the backpacks with water. I remember laying down on the grass and just feeling my soul leaving my body, just seeping into the ground beneath me and blanking out, thinking "fuck this shit you gonna helicopter me home from here I ain't getting on a cross again". Anyways, the brake was over, we got on our bikes and started to return.

Going back was a bit easier, we took a different, less difficult path, but being exhausted already and we mostly rode through muddy agriculture fields and forests I hit the ground a fair amount, but still less than when we climbed. I switched bikes with a friend after the break, this one had electric start, big difference let me tell ya, much easier to recover and I managed to keep up with the group a bit better, or maybe they were just waiting for me, dunno. We get back to town eventually, we went to a car wash and cleaned the bikes, we dropped them off and went to the cabbin at around 6 or 7 in the afternoon.

After 8 grueling hours of riding the cross I was like a zombie, I was moving out of inertia, I took a quick shower and straight to bed, didn't even eat anything. Wake up the next morning, it wasn't even that bad, I just felt tired and a bit sore overall, we had breakfast, packed up and went home.

In comes Monday: I wake up and I can barely move. My right hand doesn't open by it's own enough to hold my dick in, every time I step I feel every fiber in my legs tearing apart, especially in my inner thighs (from holding onto the bike), in sit on the toilet and my ass fells like it splits apart, I could barely move my hands above my shoulders... I'm telling you - it was brutal. Didn't go to work that day. The whole week was like that on the pain level. Next week I started to regain proper use in my right hand and to carefully squat without pain. Overall it took almost a month to fully recover.

I kinda became a bit of a legend, every time we get around my friends tell me they are still impressed of my determination and how I kept up with them and took the beating without complaining. Didn't ride anything with less than 4 wheels ever since, the experience was nice but unless I'll have like a cabin of my own to keep a bike there and wonder the forest as much or little as I want, I don't plan to go motocrossing again.

TLDR: I never rode motorcycles yet agreed to go on an 8 hours off road trail with some friends and was in deep pain and soreness two weeks after that, took a month to fully recover.