I remember Carlos Saintz in New Zealand a few years ago. He was halfway up a mountain on a gravel track with an almost sheer drop on one side and no barrier. He goes round a curve in the mountain side (at some ridiculous speed) and there is a sheep stood in the road. He can't do anything but hit it as the track is too narrow and if he swerved he would have bene off down the mountain. He made it to the end of the course (which wasn't far luckily) with a large lump of bloody fur where most of his radiator should have been. The commentary didn't say if he had mutton for dinner that night.
