After our very nice relaxing day on the beach we had to get the last 90kms done to get to the finish line in Pondicherry.
With several teams left we all decided to set off in convoy for maximum effect. With Matt deciding to head the procession, not only did we leave town in the wrong direction, but as he thrashed his way out of town we soon left everyone behind… so much for that plan.
Not surprisingly after not very many miles, trigger began to splutter and die a long and painful death lasting several kms.
With some 36kms to go to the finish line, trigger finally went limp and we solemnly coasted to the side of the road, with the other rickshaws whizzing past…. offering no help we might add.
But… we had teammidlifecrisis 2 (TMC2) and the groupies came to the rescue once again and towed us right to the very finish line.
In the typical adventurist style we have become accustomed to, there was no official finish line where we could get some very professional looking piccies, just a busy street outside the hotel .
So, after 15 days, 3600 kms through bandit country and stunning scenery we limped trigger home. All that was left to do was get the rickshaws back to the storage facility and then get to the party for the standard drunken debacle now established as a Rickshaw Run favorite.
Local Injin’ Jo try’d his damdest to revive trigger, insisting that if he put his finger into the spark-plug hole it would work. With enough lube on his index finger Injin Jo slipped it in and pushed trigger down the road, with steady Eddie chuntering to himself how it wouldn’t make any difference.
Of course it didn’t, and once again TMC2 was draughted in to drag trigger back to her final resting place.
With a tear in our eye, and a lump in our throat we pushed both rickshaws into the hangar and gave them one final pat on the back.
Whilst we were there we got to see the sorry state many other rickshaws made it back, with some very horrific looking damage done. Feeling lucky we left to ponce ourselves up and get ready for the party.
