Trudy Andrew | Canadian Author

Tails From the Farm

I Do My Own Stunts

It’s true. I really do my own stunts. Very few have been intentional and I’ve generally been extremely lucky, to walk away unscathed. I’ve survived many a foolish escapade, most of which were to do with, or on horses. I’ve had the same horse rear over backwards on me … twice. I was training him for a young family and suggested after they do the right thing and move him along. He fell if a corner was a tad tight. Not ridiculously so, just a little tight. Or if he was asked, without too much warning. It seemed as if he had no concerns about falling down or rearing over. It simply didn’t bother him at all. This in a horse, is extremely dangerous and undesirable. This story isn’t about him though, so I’ll carry on.
Over my lifetime, I’ve done many things where I could easily have seriously injured myself or worse. Thankfully, I’ve always walked away from my wrecks, or at the very most, had a broken bone or two. When you’re young and invincible is the perfect time to do stupid and foolhardy things. It’s the time when you know better but do them anyway. Funnily enough, I still end up doing foolish things. Every now and again, I forget myself and the fact that, I’m not a stunt person.
Way back in twenty-ten, I suffered from E. coli and almost died. I was left with all sorts of health problems that I’ve learned to adapt to and deal with. Can’t walk long distances because of cramps and other issues? Well then, use a small tractor or off road vehicle to check fence lines. Quite simply, if I had to get to a bathroom, I had to be quick.
One of the times I was on the girlchild’s small trail bike, I did what was clearly my most dramatic stunt ever. Now, when I say small trail bike, I mean a little motorcycle that’s still street legal. Sure, it’s no crotch rocket but apparently, one can still do themselves a whole lot of damage. Oops, I’m getting ahead of myself once again.
Sweetpea and I were on her quad and this particular trail bike. I should probably mention at this time that I’m not so great on two wheels. Sure, I’m great with the variety that is devoid of an engine, but with, I have definite skill issues. Give me eighteen or twenty-two wheels, no problem. Two, with a bit of power, and the whole game changes. So, we were on the quad and bike. I was approaching a turn and it happened. Instead of slowing down for the corner, I went full throttle. Not on purpose, of course. I’m actually not an intentional stunt person. Mine have always been quite by accident. This one was no exception. There I was, hitting the throttle instead of the brake. Over the drive I went. Leaping the culvert with a good deal of what may have looked like enthusiasm to any onlooker, all kinds of thoughts went through my head. ‘Oh crap,” was way up on that list of thoughts racing about. Well, I landed at the bottom of the ditch … hard. I’ve always been strong, but not that limber. Let’s just say, I’m no gymnast. I’m just not flexible, never have been. To end up doing the splits as I hit the ground was pretty horrible. It was almost a relief to be thrown onto the opposite bank of the ditch.
The thoughts that race through one’s head at these times, is quite amazing. If only my hands had responded to any one of the many suggestions my mind put forth. Alas, none had and I ended up at the bottom of that ditch like I said. Staggering to my feet, I was actually amazed as I moved my limbs and joints. I was still in one piece. As far as I could tell, I hadn’t broken anything either. Sure, I felt pretty awful but that was to be expected. After all, I’d just lived through another stunt, a rather dramatic one, too. Thankfully, I hadn’t done damage to the bike. All in all, I was pretty pleased. I wasn’t as young as I had been when I’d done many other stupid things, yet I was still walking! How impressive is that?
As it turned out, I wasn’t as lucky as I believed I had been. Sure, I walked it off, mostly. I began to stretch and improve as several months went by. Bit by bit, I was healing and was sure I would completely heal. To my great dismay, when I was stretching, I actually heard a pop in my hip joint. That pop was accompanied by instant, intense pain. Yup, whatever hadn’t been torn when I leapt into the ditch was now seriously damaged.
That was the beginning of the end. Now in so much pain, walking is a struggle, I hobble around with varying degrees of agile grace. Seriously, I actually look forward to eventual surgery and being able to walk properly again. Sure, I do my own stunts, but I’m not talking about a new career. I’m just not good at it. Oh the regret. So much regret. Oh well, life carries on and I intend to stay off anything with two wheels and power. All in all, I think it’s for the best.

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About Trudy Andrew

Trudy Andrew lives on a small farm just east of Winnipeg, Manitoba, where she enjoys her Morgan horses. A dreamer since she was a child, its no surprise to those who know her well that her imagination would find an outlet in writing, as it has in the past through artwork.
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 Oakbank, MB