Trading Places

When I was 14 years old, life was so full of exciting things I almost didn’t know where to start...
Almost…

At that age I had already figured out that I wouldn’t be a good nun, boys where way to interesting to give up. I also knew that I did not want to be involved in anything that had to do with mathematics (go figure that 10 years later I got my masters in Agricultural Economics). I was defiantly not going to be a trucker, well not in Holland, the roads were just too small and there was too much traffic.  And that I loved speed except on my horse, whenever he decided to take off!

What I did figure out however was that I wanted to get my motorcycle drivers license. I thought driving a car was for sissies, so I would be much cooler to drive a huge motorcycle. Not a Harley, no one of those fast ones. Maybe yellow or flashy green???

Of course I would talk about this a lot and it wasn’t long before one of my friends told me, “Well, Leontien, if you really want to ride a motorcycle, why don’t I come over to your house with my 250 cc (HUGE BIKE) and you can try it out?”

I wasn’t really sure if I wanted him to know how incredibly awesome I would be so I made him a counter offer. “I would ride his bike if he would ride my horse. Trade places for a bit and see where we end up?"

So for weeks he bragged to all his friends that he would ride my horse and be really really good at it, make him (the particular horse) do all the tricks those little girls (being me, riding dressage) would do. And me telling all my girlfriends that I would take that motorcycle and speed off into the sunset.

Ah well, being young and innocent can be such a blessing…

Finally the day had come. My friend came over with his motorcycle and parked it right behind our house. I had to do a “take, double take” because that bike was BIG!!! But of course I couldn’t tell him that, instead we went to the barn and I showed him my horse, Flicka (yes after the movie, My Friend Flicka). His name was really Flipper, but I didn’t agree with the fact that my horse was named after a dolphin, so Flicka it was.

To this day I’m still not sure what my friend thought of my horse but we decided to ride the bike first then the horse.

In order to ride the bike properly we went to the little alley besides our hog barn. He explained all the handles, the pedals, the gas and yes the brake. He drove up and down the alley and came back smiling like crazy. Yes, he was going REALLY FAST! According to him I needed to “get a feeling for it” and so I rode with him on the back and yes it was EVEN FASTER!!! Maybe i wasn't the speed devil i thought i would be..?

I wasn’t even sure if I could do this…

But it was my turn, and i couldn't back out. He again, explained all the handles, pedals, brakes and gas and I got on. Oh my Gosh, I was really gonna do this…

I drove 10 meters (maybe 30 feet give or take) and got myself into a tractor tire rud (more like a gully), and the damn thing (the bike) was just too heavy for me, so next thing you know, because yes, I was also driving 1.5 miles an hour, the bike tips over!!! I fall on my side and the bike falls half on top of me and my friend has to run over (luckily not that far) to come and rescue me! I didn’t get hurt, well, not fiscally but my ego got a HUGE DENT! This was not how I imagined it to be, I was going to fly into the sunset, not get toppled over after 30 feet!

After I recovered from my embarrassment it was my friends turn to ride my horse. He was still chuckling over the fact I did so poorly and I’m sure if we had cell phones with Internet access it would have been sent to EVERYBODY!

So we saddle up Flicka and got him into the riding pen. I explain to my friend with what foot he needs to stand in the stirrup, how to use his reins and what to do to make Flicka go forward or stop. Did I mention I rode DRESSAGE??? He puts the left foot in the stirrup and with a little push from me, the literally falls onto the saddle…

Yes, boys are anatomically different build then girls…
So when you fall onto a saddle like that, something is going to hurt. BIG TIME!!! He didn’t only turn blue, no he turned GREEN! And he whimpered instead of screamed. Which made it even worse.

He got off Flicka, with again a little help from me and sat on the ground for at least 15 minutes. By then the color in his face had returned and I had put the horse in its stall.

We decide to tell everybody that “it just wasn’t our cup of tea…” and left it at that.

My appetite for being cool and riding a motorcycle went away that day. Now I’m just cool driving my car with the air conditioning on high…



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