Not a refugee village… the houses look too permanent.

​

(Pat Hunt cont.) When Johnny had managed to get the wheel off, Pat and I rode to the nearest village with it. I was on the back holding the wheel behind me somehow, and the daylight was nearly gone. We got the wheel fixed and then rode back through the darkness. The road was thick with rainy season mud and at one point we plunged off the road and up again, hitting helmets in the dip. When we arrived at where Rod and Johnny were waiting, we gave Johnny the wheel and watched as he put it back on. He never had to be told again. And the Pathet Lao did not appear.