The ride to Dapitan.

I have been doing things on this trip that I wouldn't of done not even in my drinking days. I have not been keen on driving anything with two wheels since I was about 14. A friend let me drive his mini bike. I did alright, right up a tree. The frame broke and I went flying about 20 feet. And then months later I got run over by a motorcycle. So I learned my lesson early, stay off.
Thursday night at Dakak Ruth and I thought we would go to town for supper and so she could show me the home of the Philippines national hero Jose Rizal, then come back and enjoy the rest of the evening at the resort. Unfortunately we didn't know you had to reserve a ride early as its a good distance away.

Ruth and I were persistent and they finally found someone who would take us. So we boarded a van, they drove us a short distance and dropped us off. What a surprise I had sprung on me, you will be taking a motor bike from here.

Wonderful, mini panic time. But what could I do chicken out?

The motorbikes they use in the Philippines are small. I am not knowledgeable on size but maybe 250's? 350's?

The driver got on first, then Ruth and then mustering all the nerve I could I lifted my first leg and froze. What the heck am I doing? I don't know what prompted me but my leg fell over the seat. I was on. The bike was started. I grabbed Ruth around the middle with one hand, the other behind me grabbing the edge of the seat. I left hand prints I think on both.

He zoomed away. I panicked and prayed. Ruth laughed and I was yelling Dear God. She said this is just life. I said this is just frightening.

He slowed down and stopped. Thank God I didn't fall off. I survived the trip but I was wrong, it was only a gas stop.

Now this gas station is nothing like you have ever seen. Picture the Little Rascals and one of their lemonade stands crudely made of wood. It had three shelves, Coke bottles on the top. Our motorcycle chauffeur paid the woman who came out. He took a bottle off the shelf and filled his tank. Thank God I didn't order a coke. He climbed on, Ruth next and then OUCH STARS AND STRIPES FOREVER – REMEMBER THE ALAMO, I AM DIEING! I missed the foot peg and placed my foot on the exhaust. The back of my ankle received a nice souvenir to bring home. It smelled like chicharon.

We zoomed off again, my ankle throbbing, I still gripping in fear. Parts of the road were barely suited for goat travel. We arrived safely and I just don't know how he did it, or should I say we did it with out anyone falling off.

Ruth asked are you worried about the trip back. I said no, it will be dark with NO street light so I won't be able to see, I'll just grip and pray.