Never Try, Never Know (Indonesia - Part 3)

Unhappy with the surf instructor who almost sent me down to Atlantis and the instructor who wouldn't send me anywhere, I decided to go back to the baby waves beach on my own, without someone to push me around in waist-level water.

A lesson with transport included is $33. Since that beach is 30 minutes away, a roundtrip taxi would cost me the same as a lesson.

But to rent a scooter and surfboard for a day is just $11.

How hard can it be? Everyone drives a scooter - from the 7 year old boy to the 70 year old grandma. Even all the foreigners are darting about, with no visible injuries.

It’s like riding a bike, right?

There's a popular saying in Lombok used to justify all sorts of decisions - “Never try, never know”. So I boldly walk over to one of the numerous rental stalls, repeating the mantra "It's like riding a bike. It's like riding a bike".

I ask if they do lessons.

"Sure! $100k" - A nice round number that seems to be the sticking point for a lot of goods and services.

“For how long?”

“Until you get it.”

Sounds like a great deal.

It turns out the “lessons” are rather informal. The guy in the stall calls someone, and his cousin shows up. I get on the back of the scooter and we go to a nearby grass field. There's a few cows grazing and children playing.

Yesterday I had moving targets at sea, today they are on land.

I spend about an hour doing infinity loops on the field. The speedometer was broken, so my thrilling joyride was likely all of 10kmph.

With each completed loop I gain confidence and continue the inner pep talk. “It’s just one road to the beach. There's no traffic. It is a bit winding - but I've been on this road 3 times already. It’ll be fine.”

Capitalizing on a tiny smidge of new confidence, I rent the scooter and set off before I have a chance to overthink.

The journey there went off without a hitch. Even got up to 40kmph at one point - which is the starting speed for everyone else who passed me.

On the way back was when it went all wrong.

I wish I could say there was a chicken that crossed the road. Or I had something in my eye. Anything really.

Nope. No chicken. No cow, donkey, dog, or speck of dust.

Just me. All alone on a smoothly paved road curving a bit downhill.

It turns out that it is possible to take a downhill curve too slowly. The scooter starts wobbling.

My instincts, in order:

1) Squeeze the brake on the left and grip the handle on the right at the same time - which unfortunately is also the throttle.

2) Leverage Newtonian physics and aim this possessed contraption at a solid object that will stop it's motion.

3) Abandon the crotch rocket before it hits the solid object and save myself.

In fact, this is exactly what happened in Vietnam a decade ago - the bike lurched forward, I jumped off the back, and it crashed into a row of parked scooters. Did I mention I don’t have a good track record?

So the bike veers off the side of the road into the bushes as I leap off.

Fortunately a scraped elbow and a loose mirror are the only physically visible victims.

I’m now a foot below the road, and as I start tugging the scooter back up, a foreign couple stops by and helps me put it back on the shoulder. Then they continue on and leave me with my torment.

Now we uncover the real victim - my brain.

The last thing I want to do is get back on that devil machine. What's worse is the road goes immediately downhill.

So I try to scoot back to a flatter area, to give me some room to start. The scooter is heavy. Clearly I’ve been skipping sled pushes at the gym.

An elderly local woman herding cows comes by. She speaks no English but seeing my struggle tries to help me move the bike. When that doesn’t work, she calls her husband over, and finally we three roll it back to the flatter area of the shoulder. They also leave me with my torment.

And I just stand there.

I’ve run out of excuses to get back on the horse. My pep talks aren't working. I also know that if I don't get going soon, I won't make it back before dark.

After what seems like eternity, I sit on the bike.

Reluctantly start the engine. Clenching the brake. On the count of three, I will push off.

1,2,3...

Failure to launch.

Ok, try again.

1,2,3...

Nada.

I'm frozen.

I sat there, counting out loud again and again, and not moving.

Two teenagers on one scooter stop by and ask if I'm ok. I'll take a guess that they've seen this white girl movie before.

"Can one of you drive this thing to town for me?"

"Yes"

And so, I scoot back on my own scooter.

Indonesian teenager, take the wheel.

1 broken mirror

1 scraped elbow

1 thoroughly bruised ego

6 kind strangers

0 waves caught

100% lifetime crash to scooter rental ratio

Semi-permanent psychological trauma

$22 in savings