The last leg, the home stretch, the final countdown. Whatever ya call it, my 640km ride around the Mae Hong Son loop is just about through. I now make my way back towards Chiang Mai, where I'll finally come full circle (if the circle were drawn by a drunken child, that is).
Before it's all said and done I pull off the road into rice paddy covered outskirts of the city. Under toasty sunrays I walk along a narrow raised path dividing the paddies. I climb up onto the floor of a shady bamboo hut (one can usually count on finding these simple huts wherever there is a rice paddy). Neon green rice seedlings make for row after row of silent audience as I strum away on the trusty travel guitar. The place is packed, a full house! I am happy in this moment.
The silence of the rice sprouts following my guitar performance speaks volumes. They are simply speechless.
All too soon I hop back on my motorbike and fly along the highway. With only 50km to go all of the sudden my motorbike engine heaves and the pitch of its purr shoots upward as my speed slows. The bike then throttles forward, decelerates again, and lurches ahead once more, and so on. For the final forty-five minutes of my journey this cycle continues, rocking me back and forth like a jaded old bull who knows his rodeo days are nearly through.
During this uneasy period I'm just waiting for the bike to start slowing down and continue to a stop if maybe it forgets how to speed up again. C'mon lil scoot, don't die on me now! I don't think my insurance covers a dead scooter...Luckily she pulls through 'til the very end, right back into Mr. Mechanic's where I reluctantly hand over the keys along with my faithful companion.
A quick inspection begins. At first I'm all paranoia. Will they discover the failing engine and make me cover the repairs? Or worse yet, will they ship me off to Lopburi and make me dress up like a monkey to dance amongst the furry little primates as the town's hairy mascot for the rest of my days? They had better provide me with a pair of big golden hand cymbals if it turns out that way...
My mind is jerked back to reality as I look back to the bike and notice a piece of the front fender jutting out the way no piece of front fender should. An employee inspecting the bike comes across this as well and shakes his head in a "tisk tisk" sort of way as he jots down a note. For a moment I'm convinced I'd unknowingly done the damage myself and will have to pay dearly. But now wait just a second! I realize it was the inspector who had popped up the plastic panel as a prank. A real comedian! I pop the fender back down with a fist and smile knowingly at the culprit. Wise-guy! I make it out of Mr. Mechanic's without any fuss.
With the Mae Hong Son Loop under my belt, maybe I should remove my belt and slide it back through all the loops so I don't look foolish. I digress. Looking back on these 300 miles of Northwest Thailand my mind is flooded with sundrenched stills. Stilted wooden houses and their occupants peering out from yards with eyes on me as wide as dinner plates. Seductive detours tangled and meshed into that sprawling dark jungle, just begging me to go a little bit further. Thin wispy columns of black smoke slithering up from fiery edges that lap away hillsides at dusk. And of course my chirping, ribbitting red and black steed that hauled my ass along every stretch and turn of this dreamlike journey without fail. Northwest Thailand occupies a warm, shady nest in me. I will come back to know it better soon.
Another awesome chapter of the Red Scooter Tales.
ReplyDelete