So i decided to go and visit one of the temples a distance from me. Seeing as i now have my own transport. I hop on my trusty steed, and brave the hour long ride to there. On the way, dodging oncoming busses, swerving out for potholes that could swallow a truck, and passing locals with more stuff on their motorbike than an South African taxi can fit in the back. All the while bouncing over uneven roads as i push the little aging 100c air cooled Honda along, reaching a staggering and scary 35 miles an hour at times on my gps.

Now, at this speed, I was more airborne than on the road, and the bike vibrates so much, that my left foot went numb, but hey, it is an experience.

On reaching the ruins, I learn that they do not sell tickets to enter here, but the tickets to enter the Angkor Wat ruins are valid here. Thus, I head back the 20 or so mile to get a ticket. Then, brave the hour long drive back to the temple.

Now, i should add that the bolt that holds the back wheel and suspension was loose, and that i could as yet not find anywhere that sells tools. So i fastened it as best as i could with my leatherman. After a short visit to the ruins, which included a river ride on a canoe, I head home. Partly because my headlight is not working yet. 🙂 Before heading out, i check the bolt, and all seems fine. Now, at this late hour, I press on, and at an earth shattering 38 miles an hour, I seem to fly over the bumps in the road.

After about 15 miles, there is a load clatter and a mighty roar from my engine. O NOOO, I think i blew the head gasket. The two locals that I just passed shout something in Khmer at me as they pass, but do not even bother to slow down as they show their support for my situasion. As I pull alongside the road, and look down, I realize the extend of my troubles, my exhaust is gone! And my engine is loudly proclaiming its newfound freedom of speech.

Looking back in the road, I see my exhaust lying proudly in the middle of it, and realize that the locals was shouting at me, for throwing an exhaust at them, causing them to have to duck. How inconsiderate of me.

So I turn around, and head back to where part of my transport is lying. Parking my bike on the side of the road, I see a truck coming along, with all the intention in the world of running over that shiny piece of thing in its way.

In that instant, reason leaves me and I just want to save my exhaust. Thus I grab it with all my power, just to realize that as happened to many before me. Hot objects are extremely heavy, and you tend to drop it in a millionth of a second. Yet, even in that short time, you can hear your skin being cooked. So with an oncoming truck, who is now speeding up to get 10 points for flattening a expact and bonus points for the exhaust, I kick the exhaust out of the road, while my fingers are on fire.

Safely at the side of the road, I cool of my hot hand (girls beware) with the water I have. Then proceed to cool the exhaust off so i can strap it to the back carrier. Good thing I have rope, for you never know what you may find lying around in the road. Now, I have to add that I have laughed at the stamping on the exhaust, proclaiming titanium. However, after picking it up from a 35 mile an hour drop, with hardly a scratch on it, I have a newfound respect for that wording.

After securing the exhaust, I slowly make my way back the last couple of miles. Slowly, because of the ear shattering sound of the now freed engine, and because the bolt that holds the back suspension and wheel have no nut on it, and i have to keep kicking it back with my left foot, which is partially numb form the vibration of the bike. In town, i get the admiration from every bike shop, but I decide to head to the one that sold me the battery for the bike at $12, where others tried to charge me $70.

With sign language, I establish that he cannot fix it, and he steers me to one that sell me a new one. His comments, while pointing to the traffic light. “Stop, right, 100m, new.”

So I head back, turn right, and go along until I see 3 bike shops next to each other. Pull into one, and get directed to the last one. There I pull in and ask if they have a new exhaust, as I already know it cannot be fixed. (comment from the previous bike shop).

Their comment is. “yes yes, new, $5” So I let them go at it. In the back of my head, I wonder at what exhaust I will get for $5. To my surpise, they put the two exhaust pieces together, and braze them. Then fit it back to the bike, and proclaim. “New, $5.” So new, means, it works as good as new then.
A few pictures of the day out.