For 11 years I lived over in Thailand working as a small groups adventure tour guide. When I wasn’t working I rode all over the country on bikes that varied from scooters, trail bikes, sports bikes and cruisers. Sometimes solo and often with different groups of mates both Thai and Westerners. Went for a ride with two mates early morning through the hills to Fang from Chiang Mai. I was riding a Kawasaki drifter 1500 and my mates were also on cruisers. Plenty of great twisties along the way. It had rained heavily the night before but the humidity had almost dried the road completely off as we wound our way through the hills. In no hurry and with only the occassional car passing by the other way it was a great day to be out. Coming through the last sets of curves in the hills before longer straight sections things were about to become really interesting. Johnny was in the lead and I was in the middle with Lek in the back. Heading into the last curve, a wide right hand sweeper I could see a ten wheel tipper truck barrelling down the straight coming into the corner I was entering. It was plainly going way too fast to make the bend and we were coming together much quickly so I got hard on the brakes and pulled off the road as far as I could go. On my left was a steep hillside with a concrete kerb along its base. The strip along the roadside was littered with debris from the previous nights heavy rain. Broken branches and piles of leaf litter made slowing down the bike even sketchier. Luckily the truck driver managed to keep the prime mover on his side of the road. As the truck came into the bend its tipper trailer which I hadn’t seen until then, swung across my side of the road and as it swung it tipped over on a 45 degree angle. All I could hear was the squealing off the tyres as it came towards me like a giant fly swatter. All I had time to think was “I’m dead.” The back end of the trailer missed my handlebar by just centimeters as it went past and the windblast was the final straw as my bike started to fishtail and I couldn’t control the slide and fell off, sliding along behind the bike. It hit a concrete post and flipped over and I ended up on the other side of the fallen drifter. I wasn’t hurt except for some scrapes and picked my self up in time to look back and see the trailer swing back across the road again and almost collect my mate who was following. The truck driver wasn’t about to stop and kept on going. Lek and Johnny came to check that I was ok and then Lek took off to try to intercept the driver. There were a couple of police checkpoints back along the road in the hills that were there for stopping illegal immigrants from Burma. Lek was able to get past the truck after the first checkpoint and have the police at the next checkpoint stop the driver. He worked for a cement company and said he’d been driving all night and had fallen asleep at the wheel. Fortunately for me I was neither lying in the road injured or alone as often truck drivers will make sure you are a goner rather than have you survive and make them pay for potentially expensive hospital bills compared to the price of a funeral. My drifter needed a bunch of parts to repair it and since it was one of only two in the entire country it couldn’t be easily written off and replaced like we are used to doing here. More luck for me as the truck belonged to a large cement company and a short court tussle had the company paying for all the parts to be imported from Australia and a nice new custom exhaust system and paint job supplied by the local bike builders. Shook me up quite a bit but I got back on my repaired bike as soon as it was ready and put it all behind me.