HazardsAnnoyances
เรื่องกวนใจ
Six things that will happen, none of which is a reason not to go.
What it is
The small stuff, in one drawer, with what to do about it and what to say afterwards. None of these will end your trip. Most of them will end up being the bit you tell people about.
The long version
Village dogs — One comes off a porch at your ankle.
Antidote — Slow, hold a straight line, keep going. It is defending a boundary, not hunting, and the chase ends in a few metres. The swerve is the only part that can hurt you.
Alibi — Every rider in Thailand has this story. Yours is not the best one.
The guesthouse driveway — Six hundred kilometres survived, and it goes over outside the room.
Antidote — Stop at the bottom and look before committing. Take the luggage off if it is steep. Walk it if the concrete is wet — polished wet concrete is far more slippery than it looks. On anything heavy, reverse in.
Alibi — At walking pace, with a bag on, on wet concrete, at the end of a six-hour day. Nobody who has ridden here will raise an eyebrow.
A loaded bike steers differently — It goes where it was pointed a second ago.
Antidote — Low and forward: footwell before rack, rack before pillion seat, heavy things against the tank. A rucksack on your back is the worst option of all because it moves when you do.
Alibi — Or send the bag ahead and ride the bike the shop designed.
The pump is shut — You arrive at four and the village station closed at three.
Antidote — Fill at every town whether or not the tank needs it. Where there is no station, small shops sell fuel by the litre from bottles on a rack outside.
Alibi — The bottle costs a little more and comes with someone who wants to know where you are going.
No signal — The map stops working somewhere on the 1263.
Antidote — Download the offline map before you leave the guesthouse wifi. The road is one road; the kilometre stones tell you where you are.
Alibi — Two hours without a phone on a mountain road is the thing you told people you came for.
The afternoon storm — It arrives at two, hard, for forty minutes.
Antidote — Stop. Have the coffee. In the green season the rain is heavy and short, and a day planned to finish at two usually finishes dry.
Alibi — The forty minutes under a shop awning with three other people waiting it out is a better story than the kilometres either side of it.
Runs with
- kitWhat actually fits — Where the weight should sit.
- kitSending the bag ahead — Or do not carry it at all.
- termGasohol 91 and 95 — The fuel rule this drawer keeps repeating.
- eventThe rains — The season the afternoon storm belongs to.
- artThe kilometre stone — What tells you where you are when the phone does not.
- coffeeThe stall at the top of the climb — Where you wait out the forty minutes.
Named here by
- roadRoute 108 — The small stuff, with antidotes.
- stayThe hut with no wall on the valley side — The small stuff, with antidotes.
- hazardRiding after dark — The small stuff, with antidotes.
- bikeThe 700cc-and-up adventure bike — The small stuff, with antidotes.
- bikeThe 400–700 twin — The small stuff, with antidotes.
- bikeRiding on the back — The small stuff, with antidotes.
- kitThe bike has nowhere to put it — The small stuff, with antidotes.
- kitWhat actually fits — The small stuff, with antidotes.
- kitSending the bag ahead — The small stuff, with antidotes.
Where each claim comes from
| Field | Tier | Source | Note |
|---|---|---|---|
| default | inference | ordinary riding knowledge, deliberately compacted; the three records this replaces were hazard-shaped and are annoyance-sized | |
| text_th | inference | written in Thai by this project, not machine-translated |
Sources
- Motorcycle safety — Wikipedia (en)
- Curve and distance measurements off the OSM polyline — This project
cited Cited — a named source, linked · harvested Harvested — fetched from an open dataset, with its licence · tradition Tradition — general knowledge of the tradition, hedged · inference Inference — this project's own reasoning from the above · field Field — someone stood there