A lot of the props go to Subzali, the man in charge of the situation. Uncle Ben, Subzali and Tim did most of the hard work in the axle. The rest of us handed them tools and tried to irritate them with the flashlights.
It was a spooky night driving home, the fog was like pea soup. Couldn't see 500 feet down the road. That was cool. Just as we got into Idaho Springs a mountain lion ran between Treeroot and John. That was spooky.
As if anyone didn't know, skinny pedal + 35" tires + V8 + SOA - anti-wrap bars = dead pinion. Worst part was it was too late for beers. No trail side repair should go uncelebrated. Oh, also it also seems pretty clear that any attempt to save time by not pulling the whole third to fix a broken pinion and working with just the inspection plate off in fact doubles the repair time.
"Why does the U.S. care which flag will be hoisted on a small piece of land thousands of miles away?" -- Ron Paul