I remember when I was at holding company, Ingleburn, in the Army and me and a couple of mates who were keen riders talked me into going to a horsery for a days riding. I asked the owner for the oldest tamest nag in the barn coz I'd never ridden one before. He picked out this lovely old mare and told me to walk it about 200 metres out the gate before mounting it as she would just turn around and go home. I played it safe and walked her about 2 miles down the road (getting stirred all the while by the expert mates) and then I mounted her (which was a challenge). As soon as I was settled the swung around and bolted flat chat the 2 miles back to the barn. My goolies and my face (face buried in mane hanging on for grim death, goolies pounding the pommel) were in raw shape at the end of it. Never got on anything without wheels since. :no::no::no: