So I'm out riding yesterday, Sunday, and riding in an area I've not ridden in a while. I see a building I don't remember, decide to take a look. Riding around a tree and woosh, slide out in some leaves. As I crashes, the H-bar hits me family jewels not once but twice. Owwww, shezbott, I'm pissed, toss bike off me, cuss bike and myself. Get up, look down and...Holy Guakemoly, my right family jewel is looking back up at me through a hole I've now got in my shorts. And this ain't a little hole. I think ships have sunk with smaller holes than this. I think, even with all the crashesand broken bones I've had riding, this is the worst I've ever felt on a bike. Found a bathroom close, stuffed toilet paper in shorts to hide jewels from view, and ride least used trail back to truck. But the toilet paper kept falling out the hole. Kept stopping and re-TPing my self to hide the ole privates from view. That damn bike just kept laughing at me all the way back to the truck. Only saving thing was I was not that far from my truck. The only moral I can think of is always ride with duct tape.