http://laist.com/2009/09/28/2009_red_bull_soapbox_race.php?gallery0Pic=14#gallery

"The day's most cringe-worthy crash came from a team aptly named Apocalypse. Tomas Pais had never raced anything before in his life. The tall, lanky driver wore boots and a tattered outfit that might have come straight from Mad Max's wardrobe. He topped it with goggles and a mask adequate for spray painting in a sandstorm. Perhaps that's how they decorated the car, which fit his gritty garb. The chassis wasn't much more than a shopping cart welded to an office chair. The original designs called for gun turrets and a skull fastened to the hood. Instead, he just got an old leather shoe serving as the brake pad.

He was clocked at 40 m.p.h. before his front wheels hit the berm -- and a hay bale. Pais' tail spun counterclockwise until he was pointing backward on the course. He hadn't lost much momentum, but his back wheels, now in front, locked up. The car didn't need horsepower to give him a lesson in torque. Unable to go forward, the front end shot up. Including his body, over 300-pounds of man and metal were violently pivoting around his head.

Pais couldn't remember exactly when his jaw dislocated, but it was sometime after his feet flew past his face -- which slammed into the metal berm. He bounced. The car bounced on him. Nobody else moved except for emergency crews, fans growing silent and wondering if Apocalypse had met his end.

Underneath the car, Pais only felt disappointment. Up to that point, he was making one of the day's fastest runs.

"Are you alright?" called out one of the race crew members as they lifted the car.

It wouldn't sound right the first time he answered. "My jaw!" mumbled Pais. He couldn't close it. He tried to say it again. "My jaw!" As he finished the second attempt, it clicked back into place. Pais got back in his car and continued toward the finish line."

(Excerpt from above linked article)