Buying into the idea that it’s good to get out of your comfort zone. I sign myself and the Nearly-Beloved up for a Segway adventure in the Forest of Dean, unaware, until I come to sign the waiver, that this is considered a HIGH-RISK ACTIVITY!
My pen hesitates for a moment until I remember this is the 21st century, where everything is deemed dangerous and potentially litigious, whereas my Boomer childhood visits to the park involved no parental supervision, no safety surfaces and no holds barred. I’m sure the risks of a Segway ride are nothing compared to launching yourself off a swing onto concrete. So, signature secured, I queue up with my fellow adventurers, Carly and Dwayne, to get a helmet – another protective measure absent in my youth.
And here we meet Ian, our instructor and Health and Safety millennial evangelist. He is not impressed with Carly’s on trend top knot. We wait whilst she unbraids it to secure a snug fit. Meanwhile, Dwayne, who has completed his outfit with sunglasses and a bandana, is looking like a potential bank robber, rather than an acute hay fever sufferer. Then, the Nearly-Beloved, who is gung-ho about injury, is berated for wearing his head gear at a jaunty tilt. Luckily, Ian does not hear his muttered ‘Snowflake generation!’ reply.
We are now ready for ‘the talk,’ where Ian invokes the fear of God. The Segway, it appears, is a manic monster, with a mind of its own, capable of throwing us off at great speeds. It is sensitive to the slightest movement, irresistibly drawn to potholes and ditches and rears up at the sight of a dog. We must follow the three commandments or end up in A&E!
Ian stares at us with religious fervour and intones:
Always make slow, deliberate movements!
Keep both hands on the Segway at all times!
Be alert, look ahead and NEVER back!
We assent with a nod and a whispered ‘Amen’ before progressing to the practice test, where Ian will determine if we are to be let loose on the forest paths. And he’s already sussed out that I am the weakest link, whilst the Nearly-Beloved is judged ‘a natural’ after just one circuit of the track. Fortunately, Carly is also a tentative rider and Dwayne, who is operating with limited vision, needs a second attempt before getting his L-plates. Finally, we line up behind Ian, emergency whistles around our necks, in case of trouble. But for now, all is well, so off we Segway.
It takes a little getting used to, as any small movement causes the machine to change direction, and tilting your body forward increases the speed. However, after a while, I start to relax and enjoy my woodland surroundings. Bird song fills the air, squirrels watch us curiously from the branches and the noiseless Segways allow us to cover ground quickly, without disturbing the nature around us.
All is calm and peaceful until in the distance I spot a Golden Retriever. It is racing towards me, with a snake in its mouth that it hurls in my direction! Immediately, I swing to my left, narrowly avoiding the hissing reptile and causing the Segway to veer towards a pothole. There is no time to get the whistle out whilst focusing on keeping my balance and both hands on the handles. So, I resort to old-school yelling, which certainly gets Ian’s attention. He executes an impressive U-turn and returns at full-throttle to rescue me from what turns out to be a plastic dog toy.
Once order is restored, we continue onwards, over bridges and streams, as Ian points out the assorted wildlife and shows us where beavers have been reintroduced into the forest. By now I’m at ease with my Segway. I’ve befriended it and it has got a handle on me. It knows I appreciate a nice steady pace, a clear line and a slow descent on any slope. Carly and Dwayne’s rides are also in synch with mine and so we proceed in an orderly manner.
The Nearly-Beloved, on the other hand, has a different relationship with his beast, which is chomping at the bit to overtake – a definite no-no, from Ian’s extensive list of forbidden actions. I can sense his Segway catching up with mine. He’s definitely closer than Ian’s 3-metre ‘safe zone’ but I daren’t look back.
‘You’re too near,’ I warn him.
‘But you’re all so slow,’ he groans, ‘We’ll never reach full speed at this rate.’
And then to his further annoyance, the Segways in front come to a stand-still, as Dwayne, despite all his preventative measures, succumbs to a full-blown sneezing fit.
I find my Segway’s biting point, balancing expertly to keep it from advancing. But the Nearly-Beloved is done with this health and safety lark. He lurches forward and, in blatant violation of all three commandments, sails past, one fist in the air, looking back at us all in jubilation as he hurtles off into the distance.
Needless to say, Ian is not impressed, we are now in the discomfort zone, and the Nearly-Beloved has been barred from any future HIGH-RISK ACTIVITIES!
