'76 FLH on the edge of Hesdin Forest, France, 1994.We'd heard there were huge, fierce wild boar in this forest so we stopped to hunt for some. Every rustle, snapped twig or gust of wind through the trees halted us in our tracks, and I'd turn to Carol and say "My God, they're coming...!". In the end, she got so freaked out we headed back to the bike.
It was pretty dark and creepy in there. You could easily imagine a 200 kilo mass of coarse hair and tusk coming at you out of the undergrowth... or getting accidentally shot by some crazy French hunter.
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