Cocky vs. confident on the Moto

I’ve made no claims to anyone that I am a good moto driver. In fact when people ask “Can I get a ride?”

Jessica had to indure my crazy driving.

I reply, “Do you want to live?”

I’ve always been safety first with my driving. It took me 2 weeks to get enough courage to shift out of 1^st gear and another 2 to make it to 4^th.  Even then I was all over the road. The sand and mud had its way with me and I was not pretty. I’ve run into bushes I even ran into a pile of logs with Carlie on the back. It’s kind of like running into a parked car. I was definitely not known for my great driving skills.

But with nothing left to lose why not go for it. All or nothing. Go big or go home.

Thats the face of confidence.

They probably should have gaven me training wheels to start out with but to late now. I’ve come to embrace the dusty sandy roads of Béré. I don’t exaggerate when I say that people scatter when they see me coming.

Recently I’ve decided to put all fear aside and just gun it. I fly over and through sandy pits and over a lot of objects that I should try to avoid but with these new found wings I cant seem to stop flying. When I see a dip I gun it and I hit that bump so hard I fly through the air like Mary Poppins with her umbrella but with a moto instead.

There is no more old lady driving for this girl. No more being passed and laughed at my Tchadian men.

It’s a good thing there are no traffic laws here.

Warning to my mom. Ill be asking for a black Vespa with flames down the sides for Christmas.