I crashed.

You knew I was going to say that, hey? Ob-VI-ous-ly, this story wasn’t going to be about me, riding off under the moonlight, pulling off wicked stunts. Who would want to read about that, anyway?

Ja, so, I crashed.

It was, however, a wicked stunt.

You have to understand, a 125cc engine is nothing like 250cc. Then there are all these other factors, two stroke engine vs four stroke, vs the air intake and…before I bore you with details, the point is – the POWER. Never mind comparing a scooter to motorcycle, even different motorcycles handle differently.

Ja, I knew this. I KNEW IT. I read about this, all the time.

So there Lazola was, telling me to take it easy, to go gentle. I mean, she wasn’t on the bike. She was all, “I’m not that crazy!”

So, she was standing off the side. Giving me her advice on blah, blah, blah and then…

A wheelie. I totally took off, front wheel riding high. It just – so! much! power! With hardly any pressure. Which she had told me. She really had. Gone blah, blah, blah to take it easy. Again, she told me. And I thought I was.

But zoooooooom, I took off like I was some hi-ho-silver crazy horse situation happening.

To be fair to me, I did not panic. I did not fall off the bike, hey? I kept calm. Held on. And tried to ease it down.

Tjo, but putting that front tire down – that’s not easy. And I’d never done a wheelie before on any type of bike with an engine.

Over I went.

Ja, so there I was, lying on the side, the motorcycle on its side, and you know what – we! were! Lekker!

I was even laughing.

And once I got back on my feet, and we looked the bike over, it was mostly fine. (FYI – Bikes are HEAVY to lift off the ground. It took both of us, and we were sweating. Ag, NOT the attractive kind either, ugly sweat.)

Ja, so the bike had a few scratches and a bent rear indicator. But really, it was fine. It wasn’t an accident-accident. We could have gotten home just fine.

Lazola, however, had lost her nerve. “That’s it, I’m calling home.”

You know I begged her not to, hey? Obviously, I did.

But she called them, and they were all, “Where are you?” and then, “Don’t either of you move.”

So ja, I wasn’t feeling very happy anymore.


Tell us: If you were Lazola’s parents, what do you think would be the right consequences for the young women’s choices?