I never learned to bike when I was younger. No, this is not the whole truth. I did receive a black and silver English racer for my 11 birthday. After dinner, my father would take me out for a bike ride. Scared of falling, my biking adventures were wobbly attempts of moving forward on cracked pavements and grass fields. It took a few tries…but finally i moved forward and my father was not at my side. I was biking all by myself…until my father’s laughter shook me up and I fell down. He reassured me that I would lose weight when I was able to bike…and that it would be easier for me. I got up off the ground, threw my bike as hard as I could on the pavement. I swore I would never ride a bike again.
And this is not the whole truth. Life brought me to Amsterdam, where almost everyone hops onto a bike and pedals into the future. Rain- snow- wind -soft breezes and They are off. I was never one of Them.
Until I was invited to go to an outdoor museum somewhere in Holland with Klaas and Oane. A lovely sunny afternoon, traveling with buses and trains. Klaas explained that this was a special place with wide open fields to bike through. Perfect weather to bike and enjoy ourselves. My shameful secret was now brought to the test. I don’t know how to bike.!!!!
Oane laughed in that special way that he had…. and made a phone call to the museum, where he was assured that there were tricycles . He reassured me that everything would be alright. I could not believe that this would be the case…but I trusted these two soul friends completely. I put on my Keeping Up Appearances chatter face and tried to keep on breathing.
We arrived and I survived the waiting in line for the bikes. I must have smoked three cigarettes one after the other while waiting for Oane to chose the right one for me. A white bicycle with the little things on the side of the back wheel.
Okay Bosner, hop on!
Oane, I’m scared I can’t.
Sauc the only thing that can happen is that you fall.
That’s what I’m scared of.
That’s no excuse . Get on the bike Bosner!!!!
And I did. I got on the bike. Oane stood next to me. Oane ran with me. Oane said Go gal and let me go. And I biked and biked and biked.
Oane!!!!!! How do I turn?
Oane!!!! How do I go faster?
Oane!!!!! How do I stop?
And Oane jumped on his bike and biked with me. For hours we biked all around the museum grounds. We stopped for a cigarrette after I had almost pushed two elderly ladies off the road.
We got back on our bikes and made our way back to the museum. It was time for coffee and apple cake. And a cigarrette.
Oane, I want to bike like friends do in Amsterdam. Hand in hand. Then I will feel really Dutch!!!!
And we biked back to the museum, hand in hand.
Oane didn’t make fun of me.
Oane picked me up when I fell.
Oane let me go.
Oane was my friend.
And that is the TRUTH.
p.s. I am now the proud owner of a beautiful tricycle 🙂
–Sauci Bosner, Amsterdam
Sauci Bosner 
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