Upon our finish it was time to party. Before long the old Turtle was shell-down. We're not sure if it was our amazing good looks, exceptional driving skill, or dumb luck, but apparently the mob of spectators lead by an apparently jealous Four Wheeler staffer bum-rushed the old FJ and sent her dirty-side-up. Lucky for us we were out signing autographs and kissing babies when she went over, so no bodily harm was done. The poor truck was soon righted and became part of the annual truck stack before we all retired to the campfire for the final night of stories and lies.