No Stranger - part 2

20 miles from our hotel in Phnom Penh, Greg’s shift lever came loose again while he was driving. We pulled into a roadside gasoline shop and repairs commenced. The sun was going down. Greg refused to give up on bolting the stripped shift lever to the semi-stripped shaft. He had a nice, long pair of needle nose vice grips in his toolkit that I kindly suggested Greg use as a make-shift shift lever but he was reluctant to cause any harm to any piece of his beloved cult bike. Just as the sun set on the horizon, the shaft was firmly attached. The tools were gathered quickly and I rode, Greg drove, to our hotel with the help of headlights.

That night, after we showered and settled in for the weekend and quickly learned that we had the town to ourselves. Chinese New Year is a time when people go back to their village and share their wealth with the family. How lucky for us, a nice quiet weekend.

On advice of the good Reverend Bob, we hired a tuk tuk for the day and toured the city. Being Chinese New Year, there was light traffic and we moved about swiftly. We visited open air riverside bamboo huts where fresh, local fruits and juices were served. We searched for the best value we could find for our hard earned money. That night, our driver to us to one of the finest establishments in Phnom Penh and we quickly decided to go eat somewhere we knew could stomach it. We went for a walk about and ended up having tossed salad and shark fin soup. For drinks, we had a martini and then we finished with a hearty massage.

A frequent Phnom Penh visitor from Alaska was in town with his tg. We exchanged current data and he was off the next day to Angkor while we were off to find our sand at the beach. Sihanoukville was our destination. We stayed at Oceans – nice place, secure parking, close to food and drinks. If I was a beach guy, I think I would like it there. Nice cool breezes, good value for money and nice European food in the restaurants and mini marts.

Having decided to pass on the three day minimum rental/ride (not drive) to Bokor, we pushed on towards Koh Kong. Greg was hearing things again. Little voices kept telling him to take the ferry. Our Alaskan friend told us how wonderful the road to Koh Kong was so off we went.

The little voice knew his stuff. We rain into rain between the 3rd and 4th river crossings. For 10 km we trudged along what used to be bull dust but with water added became wet bull patties. If Bull Dust Bob were here, I’m sure he would have earned a new nickname. Greg rode ahead and stopped periodically to take photos. I soon realized that he was stopping to take photos of me with hopes of me sliding sideways on my arse. We watched as bulldozers pulled waiting mini-vans up the steep sections.

Being 200 cm tall has its advantages. My legs make good outriggers for slalom skiing on the GS. Things went well for a long time, especially the flat sections and downhill’s. Then we came to the section where they were drilling rock and the road went uphill. I stopped when I was exhausted and needed a break but the drilling machine nearby was just so danged loud that I had to push on another 50 meters. This time when I stopped, the air compressor that powered the drilling machine seemed just as loud so I pushed on again – into the uphill incline. I watched as the cult bike climbed up the hill and out of sight.

I spotted a nice place to park and rest and just as I was making my way there the rear wheel spun and slipped out from under me causing me to lay my wonderful ENDURO bike in the mud. Fugetaboutit I said, as I stopped to drink a bottle of water and contemplate my next move. A construction truck pulled up behind the GS and looked anxious for me to move it. I motioned to him to come and help me pick it up as I wasn’t ready to do it alone.

We stayed at the Champa Koh Kong guest house and enjoyed the hot shower, hot food and cold supply liquid refreshments. Our Alaskan friend came through this road 2 days later on his Africa Twin and commented that the road was only wet in a few places. I think Greg's cloaking device upset the cosmic karma balance and caused the rain. The locals said it hadn’t rained there in months. After a restful night’s sleep, Greg announced the morning that he was still “Master of his Domain, Lord of the Manor”. He also commented that “The accommodations at the Champa Koh Kong Guest House leave you feeling refreshed and ready to ride the next morning.”

We crossed the border at Hat Lek, and made our way towards Pattaya. The highway opened up to 6 lanes as we approached our destination and I enjoyed opening up the GS between red lights and then waiting for the cult bike to catch up. About 20 km out of Pattaya, I stopped and waited for Greg. Two cigarettes later, I made a u-turn to find my friend. I rode 25 km back to the last place I saw him and made another u-turn. Another 25 km back to my original stopping place and the cult bike was not to be seen. I wondered if the cloaking device had finally started working?

Upon arrival at the hotel I found that Greg was already there, having ridden the last 20 km in the back of a pickup. We decided that this is where we should rest and recover from our long journey. We worked hard, rode hard and Greg even drove hard. We deserved a rest and Pattaya was the natural choice.