Wednesday, November 28, 2007

Up the Mekong, in Search of Colonel Kurtz

The Bike and I chartered a boat up the Mekong, headed out of Cambodia and into Laos. Kurtz was somewhere upriver. We were joined by East and West Germans, a Czech Buddhist and a guy from Limerick. It was a rag-tag bunch, but we were confident we could get the job done.

Motoring against the flow of the Mekong, we felt gooks eyeing us from everywhere. We saw them sometimes, but their clever deception of smiling, waving and fishing didn't fool us. We stayed frosty.

When we find Kurtz, I can only begin to imagine his state of his mind. I've begun talking to myself and sometimes I wonder about The Bike's opinion on matters. When The Bike answers me, I know someone will be headed up river - this time looking for me.



I carry The Bike onto our ride upriver. "I'm done for! Save yourself!" cries The Bike. "No way I'm leaving you brother!" I growl back.


The Bike and I stay frosty and alert for enemy activity.


We spot a long-tailed rocket boat, but they don't bother us none.


The team disembarks at the Lao border.


Meet the mighty Mekong.


We make it across the heavily fortified border. Luckily I spotted the garrote just in time.

This post pays homage to Mr FFC.

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