It's night in the mellow Old Town center of Chiang Mai. I stumble across a gang of stray dogs chasing a stray cat as I turn around a street corner. My mind is ablaze with thought. Earlier that day I received a message from Slava, my old Russian friend, coworker, and travel addict. He's been around these parts and lets me in on his favorite Thai adventures. There's one in particular that he says I simply can't miss called The Mae Hong Son Loop. It's settled, the next five days I'm cruisin' round Northern Thailand.
I grab a $6 Thai massage to loosen up before my journey begins in the morning and consider what the trip might entail. Adventure? Surely. Risk? Inevitably. Danger?! I certainly hope so! Maybe I will come across a wild tiger, befriend it, and it will let me ride on it's back through the jungle. My lofty thought is overtaken when the portion of the massage where my limbs are stretched and pulled to the max begins. My joints crackle like a bowl of Rice Crispies, Pop Rocks, and firecrackers, with gasoline poured on top, and a lit match dropped in. In a good way.
These little spirit houses are placed all over the place in Thailand. Offerings of food, beverage and flowers are placed before them. A place for spirits to kick back and enjoy eternity
The next day I rent a motor scooter and set out on a five day road trip across 400 miles of Northern Thai mountains, jungle forests, and countless villages and towns. At Mr. Mechanic (the rental place) I stretch bungee cords around my hefty backpack and petite guitar to fasten them to the rear of a scooter. I proceed to hop onto the saddle of the red and black hot rod (in my mind at least). It's an older Honda model, but it seems to run as smooth as I Can't Believe It's Not Butter!
Before I departed this fellow and his wife cooked me a mean Pad Thai wrapped in an omelette. Most pleasurable to consume!
I grip the throttle excitedly and ask how to fire up the ol' steel horse. The spunky, attractive Thai girl renting me the bike starts up the engine, gives it some gas, and cautiously asks if I've ever ridden a motorbike before. "Oh ya!" I answer without hesitation as I gingerly pull out onto the street. Even if it's a lie, I sure as hell better convince myself I know how to ride a motorbike if I'm going to last 640km on the twistiest, turniest roads I've ever encountered.
And I'm off! And I'm going the wrong way! And I'm pulled over by a road cop! He checks my driver's license and asks where I'm headed. After an uneasy pause he smiles and motions me onward in the right direction. I set out once more, this time towards my first destination, Doi Inthanon, a national park exploding with jungle forest and the highest peak in all of Thailand. I must reach the summit!
Scooting along the outer limits of Chiang Mai I start to familiarize myself with my iron steed and the pavement beneath it. The lanes of Thailand are opposite those in the states which takes a little getting used to. At first driving on the left side feels incredibly awkward, like I'm undoing all of my hardwired driving knowhow that I've always followed without second thought. I'd be lying if I said I didn't see a car barreling towards me on a few occasions only to realize I was on the right (wrong) side of the road. Yeehaaa! The city dissipates and before I know it I'm flying past fields of rice paddies and banana trees, into the shady, winding roads of the northern mountains.
At the entrance station of Doi Inthanon I meet two American expats, Aaron and Justin. They are living in China while Aaron studies language and Justin teaches English. "China is nice to live in, but I wouldn't want to visit for a vacation or anything." They tell me. They go on to say that the language and culture barriers make it very tough to travel confidently in most areas, if at all. It's not like Thailand, where most signs have English translations typed out below the intricate Thai characters. Everything there is in Chinese, all the time. It makes sense, it being China and all. As it turns out Justin was born in Boulder, Colorado, where I grew up and went to school at CU. He went to CSU in Fort Collins and we are supposed to be arch rivals but we agree to leave our differences in the states. I still poison him a little while he's not looking.
I tag along with these fellers and we motor on up into the lush scenery of Doi Inthanon. Every last inch seems coated in thick greenery. Once in a while the trees open up to picturesque views; endless layers rounded mountains, each set gaining a thicker veil of mist and smoke the further they recede into the horizon. The smoke comes billowing in from farms scattered across the region. It's burning season, when farmers set their harvested fields ablaze.
A view from Doi Inthanon: misty mountains lounging like it's their job
A sign appears with an icon upon it reading "Sirithan Waterfall". An arrow pointing into the forest invites us to investigate. We do. If I hadn't met up with these gents I surely would have passed by the sign. I'm in good company. There's a short walk to the falls and at the overlook we witness three mighty tiers of white falls, each showering down upon the next until the last pours itself into a river. Sort of like an endless chain of immense white slinkies that a delinquent child melts down at the bottom.
A nearby sign warns "Dangerous! No Entry!" The three of us agree it's best to judge for ourselves how dangerous it really is, since danger in Thailand could be measured on a different scale than danger back home. We must conduct studies and research, for America! I stash my gear out of sight behind a tree, and after a steep yet manageable decent through a leaf covered forest trail, we peer up to the base of the relentless waterfall.
The first order of business is to try and climb up to the falls and see how close we can get to falling in. Aaron and I slip and crawl our way beneath the main fall, getting a little damp along the path. Justin manages to climb his way all the way up an immense, steep boulder past the last and greatest of the three part waterfall before realizing he can't necessarily get back down. After toying around with a few options he finally agrees to go around through the jungle and avoid a nasty plummet onto sharp rocky spires below. It works! Mess avoided.
Returning to the bikes, we ride on up. And up and up and up, until we reach the summit and highest point in Thailand. A King had his remains buried here as his eternal chill out spot. Not too shabby! The trees cluster tightly to prevent any grand view outward, but there's a stark white shrine behind two wooden elephants so old they are dressed in moss.
One of the elephants, it has stood there chilling hard for a long long time. Chilling so hard!
Having conquered the mountain of Doi Inthanon, we chat for a bit about life in China. The social customs sound incredibly complex. As with Thai culture, there's the concept of "saving face", where in social interacting one avoids embarrassing the other and resists conflict at all costs (because if things do get heated, it escalates real quick). The other aspect is the concept of "giving face", where in group conversation with an important person, you draw attention towards them through compliments and the like, without detracting from your own social standing. It's like social currency. It sounds complicated.
After conquering the summit we exchange the standard "Drive safe! Pleasant travels!" and split off. A little later I find them investigating a scorched van waiting further down the road, along with a depth defying view nearby. Aaron greets me again, surprised, and informs me that my turn off was a ways back up the road. At least my skewed sense of direction never fails to send me towards interesting sights! I turn around, bid a final farewell, and take a left onto a narrow one-and-a-half lane road snaking into the jungle.
No comments :
Post a Comment