Hindsight being 20/20 this idea was insane…and I’d do it again. The look of sheer shock on people’s faces since completing this journey when I say casually what we did tells me enough about the choice we made. Everyone looks in wondrous shock that we appear non-disfigured and are still 100% alive.
I can hardly believe it either.
Motor biking to Pai sounded simple and kind of sexy. We were excited for a journey with Chris and Nicole and to see some nature. Scooter freedom, take our time, really live the experience to this weird northern hippie town to the fullest. The scooter journey sounded like a sort of pilgrimmage through much needed jungle really IN nature not just bouncing around the back of a bus.
I’m still getting dirt, dust, bugs off my skin. I’m still marveling about the fact that I’m not covered in road rash or laying broken in a Thai hospital (sorry mom. Aren’t you glad you’re hearing about this now that I’m perfectly safe.)
The road was endless, broken pavement everywhere, potholes so large if you knocked one your cheap scooter would probably break in two, loose gravel, mud, dirt. Every corner was a blind hair pin prayer to our maker that no van, bus, or banana truck would whip around at a bad angle.
700+ hair pin turns I found out when we arrived in Pai covered in dirt starved for food shaky from balancing dodging maneuvering a scooter up down around for 4 hours.
Even though it was terrifying it was also exhilarating, beyond beautiful scenery, and dare I say sexy? Despite the dirt dust near death death experience I never felt so al ive as I did whipping around blind corners on our shaking scooter. I am quite sure Hanna did not feel the same, she was a sweaty control less passenger white knuckle gripping as I whizzed us through the jungle.
We had two flat tires. An experience that could’ve been horrible but miraculous fate had them occur both in what was most likely the only two parts of the ride where we were a mere 2 minute walk from a mechanic. (One of which was a beautiful lovely non English speaking school janitor who fixed our bike with a grin and no complaints. This country is beauiful in both scenery and people.)
It was the least sexy and most sexy I’ve ever felt. The best experiences are always that way. Giving you cold sweats and shaky hands but good god, you feel that this is what living really IS. Dangling your mortality a little bit off the branch makes you want to whoop scream in terror beam about beatuiful breathing life.
In the jungle with a broken dusty road and a shuttering scooter I felt that. That I was really living my life, not moving passively as it happened to me.
Special shoutout to my papa’s guardian angels. I am 100% certain the only reason Hanna and I are still able to tell this story has everything to do with outside invisible forces and very little to do with me being an “expert” scooter driver.