An Up-hill Battle

They say the worst thing that can happen to a drunk driver is they make it home safely. The logic behind this is that making it back creates a false sense of safety, or the illusion that they will always have the ability to make it. So, the drunk keeps drinking, keeps driving, keeps making it, until one day, they don't make it. The tragic end.



While I could hardly call surviving a drunk driving experience a worst case scenario, never mind the chasm in logic that suggests killing your self the first time is better than the fourth of fifth, I can certainly relate to the dangers of false senses of security. Since Robyn and I had first rented a motor bike we had done remarkably well. We stuck to a few simple rules like, only make left turns (Thailand, they cruise on the other side) and don't fuck up. So far we had only been in one accident and it had been when three people were on the bike. In the end of that one Robyn got to wear one of the 3 inch x 2 inch gauze pads over the burn on her lower leg. The little pads were as trendy as Full Moon Party T-shirts but a lot cooler so there was nothing to complain about. Accident numero dos....emmmm different story.



Separating our guest house from the pee trap called Hat Rin Beach were a number of cliffs that at some point had been disguised as hills when they were paved over and a road was built through them. However, the astute could deduce with a simple trick what these geological lumps really were: stand at the top and drop a tennis ball. If it rolls it's a hill. If it falls it's a cliff. These were definitely cliffs.



And there I was, with Robyn on the back, both lulled into a sense of false security, driving straight up a cliff on a motor bike that cost less than your last grocery bill. It was no surprise I had to down shift from fifth gear to fourth, or fourth to third, or even third to second but the bike was still dragging. Some little voice told me to stick with second. The problem was sticking with second also meant to sticking with pushing the bike up the cliff. I knew not to do it, I just didn't know why not to do it. So by my logic, which was the only thing moving up the cliff slower than the bike, I didn't really know not to do it. So why not give it a shot?

In the click of a gear the bike reared up like the meanest miniature pony at the petting zoo. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Robyn land squarely on her butt with a no questions asked thud. Unfortunately my rational thinking was still at the bottom of the cliff and I thought it was best to just hang onto the bike regardless of the fact that I was on my feet and it was standing up at about my height. The acute angles and pristine decision making cranked my wrist backward, pushing the throttle to the "hold the fuck on" position. My plastic/medal steed and I were launched straight up the cliff for about six amazing steps in display that, within the realm of my physical accomplishments, will never be rivaled. I imagined my flip-flopped feet moving in a blaze of dirt and friction like Fred Flinstone when he drove his prehistoric car.

With the best decision of the day, I let the bike go and got clear while it smashed to its side making a sound like a voice booming the word "UNINSURED" to the wind. But just like a movie whose sequel came too quickly, the theatrics would not end.

In the most touching display of genuine concern and fear for our well being, a dirt bike, that had more passengers than I would feel comfortable putting into a Cooper Mini, swung around us from the rear and pulled onto the shoulder. Every bit of my gratefulness melted into guilt as I watched their bike the moment it stopped teeter left, teeter right and dump, spilling no less than 45 Thai people all over the road. Many landed on their feet and before they could have possibly processed the fact they had just fallen off of their bike, found themselves in a down hill sprint/free fall with two white kids and a motor bike acting as hurdles just a few yards away.

I locked eyes with if not the worlds largest Asian woman, certainly the worlds largest Asian woman wearing a pink pastel polo shirt, and couldn't help but notice that she was moving at speeds that would have earned her a lane in any number of events at the Beijing Olympics. I gazed up the cliff and wondered if this was going to count as having died in an avalanche.

The fancy jig she through to dodge me, Robyn, and the motor bike further bolstered her credentials as a top notch athlete. I stood leaning on my slack jaw for support in anticipation of the next assault. When it came it was heavy. One man had the bike up and about a dozen others surrounded me with so much sweetness and care I knew they must have been family members in a prior life. My pastel assailant materialized from behind me and started in with the same treatment before I had the opportunity to give it to her.

Moments later I was back on the bike at the bottom of the hill with a number of spotters to make sure everything was going to be fine. I cranked the throttle and this time, with no passenger, zipped to the summit and waited for my rescuers to make the climb. Once all had reached the top the appreciation and embarrassment had the thank yous guzzling out of Robyn and I. The feeling of genuine care and concern was still present even after the drama had passed. We both held still and were barraged with bits of advice about how to take corners and ride the bike. I must have been told to keep left a thousand times in a two minute period. I got the feeling this was just one of the many common blunders that tourists had with the bikes on the island.

As we were about to take off the pink pastel assailant, who was actually much smaller and less threatening than she first appeared, offered one last bit:

"Remember stay left. AND NEVER GIVE UP!"

It was an exclamation point to all the care and concern of the last ten minutes. The words were no longer just about motor bikes. It was the analogy of motor bikes and life that you can't feel unless the things are a daily part of your life. I carried the incident around in my head for the rest of day but no bit stood out more than that offer of NEVER GIVE UP. Never Give Up. It is a piece of love and advice I have tried to recall each day since.