I know we haven't spoken in a while, but I'm not mad. Thank you so much for your help on "The Loop," Laos. I know it was a tiring journey--over 450 kilometers--and we both did things we regret--But we saw a lot of great things, didn't we? Sorry about the scraps and cuts, and that one time I nearly ran you off the road. And for the record, I wouldn't have sold you to that child for sticky rice. Probably. Overall, was a great trip...
First, remember that first day when I told you I was just going to the bathroom?
Yeah, about that. Actually, Tong and I met some children who wanted to show us a cave.
And they said you couldn't come.
But seriously, how would you, even with all your mighty 110 cc's, have crossed this awesome tree bridge?
I had to leave you behind.
Our little guides let us climb wherever we wanted--places you just couldn't have gone.
Up rocks your wheels couldn't climb...
Through crevices your admittedly slick body just couldn't squeeze through...
And as much as I value what we have together, you just couldn't have surprised us like our little guides.
I"m sorry, but it's true.
You have your limits, my dear.
But I still love you.
And I know I let this kid wear your helmet without asking...
...but honestly, isn't he the cutest?
How it made no sense.
How the money Mr Cosner spent could have gone to save the childern of the world?
But then it gets worse, I'm afraid.
The sun was setting, and I parked you, lovingly dusted you off, and set the brake.
I'm tired, I said. See you in the morning, my love.
That too, I'm afraid, was a lie.
He offered us Bison...
...and beer...
and we couldn't resist...
And played the Laos version of Botchi ball...
...and the beer continued to flow...
In the morning, I tried to tell you.
I knew you knew.
It was cold outside.
And you wouldn't start.
Your delicate engine wouldn't turn over.
Hugging the tight bends.
Climbing higher and higher.
Soaring.
But I knew we were nearing the end.
So Tong and I went to Konglor Cave.
Seven long kilometers...
I wondered where we had gone wrong.
"She's been good to you," he replied. "But maybe it's the end. I've known you for three weeks, and I can see you tried your best. There'll be other motorbikes."
"You're right."
"Let her down easy.
Said my goodbye.
Walked away.
Looked back.
And there you were, already with someone else.
And it hurt.
In time, I'll find a quieter bike, a 100cc, maybe even a 50cc scooter. In time my heart will heal. Things were so much simpler when I was younger and rode a skateboard.
