September 5, 2013, Thursday, Arunothai-Ban Mae Ai 70 total 9700
We’d heard stories, warnings, rumors and read a few reports of the hills to Doi Ang Khang; They’re gnarly. Everyone, villagers, military told us we wouldn’t be able to bike The topography map doesn’t lie, the hills were absolutely insane. 400m of elevation gain in 6ish km. I powered through as much as I could, but each turn revealed more incline at steeper pitch. The process was ride for a 100m and rest for a minute, ride and rest, ride and rest. This was just the first section. We descended and climbed and descended and climbed, luckily nothing was as bad as that first hill. We breaked in Sinchai where Raj let me know he’ll be meeting me in the next town if I want to finish to continue on to Doi Ang Khang. I thought a bit, planning four more hours for twenty kilometers. i didn’t have a good reason to continue up the mountain besides the fact that it’s there.. I grappled with the thought and decided to bail out with Raj. I did feel a bit guilty, but the side rode descent rewarded us with fantastic views and a continuous downhill. We raced the rain down the hill, and I could see the mountaintop was stormed out. Okay, kind of glad I’m not climbing that now. We dried out in a lunch spot but got caught in a downpour on our afternoon ride, again.
We found a Wat, got permission, dried off and hunkered down.
September 6, 2013, Friday, Ban Mae Ai-Ban Huai Krai 60k Total 9760
Breakfast, route planning and then northward. While scouring Google maps, I found a faint line traversing the mountain range. Satellite-view revealed a thin orange line meandering through villages, climbing over peaks, and passing along farming tracts. Perfect. Limited information online. Even more perfect.
Raj’s GPS got us to the turn off: a narrow mud road. Uh oh. Raj wasn’t up for questionable roads and 3000m of climbing and parted with “Well, that doesn’t look promising.. See you in Chiang Rai!” We laughed.
I’ll be honest, I wanted Raj to come along.. not for his company, but for his GPS. Ha!(Love you buddy) I’d been eyeing a few mountain tracks in Thailand, but had been intimidated by the aerial view: roads splitting off, looping around, joining up, right turns, left turns, forks and the occasional intersection. How the fuck am I going to know which way to go?
The mountains roads I’d been on from Tak to Mae Sariang were broken, muddy tracks snaking up and down walls. And those were highways! I was a bit hesitant, to be honest. But really, I’m not going into the bush.. There are houses and people there.. Worst-case: The road is not navigable and I hitch a ride in a farmer’s truck. And worse than that is I turn around and “lose” a day of riding(forward progress riding, that is) That’s not so bad.
Raj made his left, and I made my right, riding a short distance to the foothills. I was greeted right away with a mixed blessing: a sign board to Chiang Mai for opposing traffic. A sign board means that this must be some sort of thoroughfare, not the absolutely rugged, weather dependent-road it could be. In some ways, I wanted that, but I’ll count pavement as a blessing.
I rode along for ten minutes and the distance I saw a sliver of grey snaking its way up straight up the foothills. Oh shit, this could be tough. It was.
Immediately after crossing the river, the road charged into the mountains. A repeat of the day before. Pedal for a few hundred meters and rest a few minutes. Pedal a few hundred meters and rest a few minutes. Raj and I both curse photos’ inability to convey the true steepness of a road. So here are the stats(they might be esoteric for non hikers/bikers, sorry) 430 to 1110m elevation in 10km; 890 m of climbing, 210 of descent, meaning the pitches were 8-12%. 2 hours to bank that 10k.
My legs were a bit fatigued from previous days steep slopes; that didn’t help. Despite the regions on and off rain, the clouds opened up and let the sun drown me in hot sunlight as I began the ascent; that didn’t help either. Every driver up and down the road gave me a huge smile, honk, and thumbs up as I charged the mountain; That helped. The sun took pity on me and hid behind the clouds; that helped too. Then the clouds had a go at me, dumping rain; that didn’t help. Some views of clouds, mist and rain, and some cloudless glimpses of the foothills below.
Even the worst of it is still so much fun: The rain, steep slopes, heat, sweat. I can’t help but smile as I write this. Heck, I’m even laughing, thinking Man, that was gnarly!
I took rest at the summit village, sitting down at the one village shop and bought some snacks and refreshments. I spotted a Chinese fortune pasted on the archway and thusly we carried on a conversation in Mandarin. I asked her about the are and probed her on how/why she speaks mandarin; She couldn’t give me a satisfying answer as to why she spoke mandarin, though. She’s a hill tribe member, born here, in Thailand. And her dad came to the region before Mandarin was the national language. If anyone knows the answer to my qaundry, please enlighten me.
After a snack, rest and chat, I continued on, though I had to wait in a road side shelter as the rain poured down. Sun on the ups and rain on the down. What gives? The road continued up and down the mountains, though lacking the serious slopes of my entrance to the range. Thank God. Good pavement, surprisingly good pavement. Thank God, again.
The road was good the entire way through, the mountains pretty, villages quaint, weather bad. On and off rain. Light traffic. A good ride overall.
I watched the kilometer markers count down from 65, knowing I had 45 kilometers from the highway till my turn off to the next mountain to tackle. As I got a few k away I stopped when a villager shouted out “Oiii, bai nai?”(Hey, where’re you going?” “Doi Chang” “Ohhh” “leoww saii tee nai”(where do I turn left?) “song kilomet”(2 kilometers) Okay!
In the next village I asked another local and he pointed to a small side road aiming towards the nearby clouded peak. A 4″x12” sign that read “Doi Chang Resort” was the only indicator to corroborate this villagers information. I prospected the road, an 8ft wide path with a bit of mud and broken pavement for the first few hundred meters. 8k of unknown steepness, Not something I’m going to finish tonight(It was about 6).
Next step was find accommodation. Raj and I had always contemplated coldcallingknocking as we road passed neatly laid out houses with an open air ground floor, but we’d had yet to try it out. I noticed a big property with a grand house, guest house and parking area, all three of them having covered spaces. Never know if you don’t ask..
I walked inside calling out “Sawatdeekrap… Sawatdeekrap”(Hello, hello) A local villager saw me and went inside to help get the owner. Out came an older, bald, bit’ heavier farang. Discarded my Thai-brain, asking “Um hi, I’m aiming for Doi Chang, but don’t think I’d be able to make it up this evening.. I noticed you have some covered space, would it be at all an option for me to put up my tent here.” I held my breath, half expecting a “Fuck off” but instead heard a lightly accented “No problem!” Wahoo!
This is my first time ever cold-knocking, so I was trying to tread-lightly. I offered to get him something to eat, but he brushed off the offer saying to not worry. I was even hesitant to ask if I could shower, considering showering in a local restaurant bathroom. Luckily offered before I needed to do that..
He came down from his balcony and to show me the restroom and immediately confided that he and his wife have conflict over guests, him not allowing her nephew to come over with all the villagers and drink; and her retaliating by not wanting any farang(foreigners). He rejected my proposal to find another place to stay and continued to complain that his wife is out drinking and won’t come home until late. All I could do was *mmhmm* my way through the conversation.
Showered off, got dinner, set up camp on the guest house patio, write and read ‘til sleep.
September 7, 2013, Saturday, Ban Huai Krai-Doi Chang 10k Total 9770
Awake, packing up and hoping the rain would stop(Still on and off rain). Tony came down to apologize again for my not being to sleep in the house. I thanked him saying “Tony, just having a covered space is enough hospitality, really though” He still insisted “No, no, no. I just want you to know this is so unlike me, I would certainly have a guest sleep inside.” I, again, assured him that camping space is enough.
He extended me an invitation to stay and chat over coffee. Not feeling eager to go do a hill climb in the rain, I took him up on the offer. I brought a snack up his balcony to tied over my hunger but he stopped me saying that we’ll have breakfast. Tony is a Danish, former textile salesmen, purchasing from India and then distributing. Another person with a lot to discuss.
We conversed a while and moved into the kitchen and continued chatting about Thailand, development, culture(him inserting the occasional complaint of his wife). I finished my eggs, beans and toast and he suggested to have some more, turning to his maid “More eggs, and beans and toast”, this young man is cycling and needs energy!” This was a proper breakfast, ahh how nice it was to have some comfort food.
Three foot-tall jars crown mark the center of his kitchen table: grape sized coconut balls, quarter-coin zied shortbread with a drop of frosting, and thin slices quarter-coin sized slices of ginger bread. Tony bakes everyday and gives away the baked goods to friends and neighbors. After asking he encouraged me “Oh sure sure, take as many as you please.” and I collected a handful and snacked as we continued chatting. Real baked goods. Not the light spongy stuff you find in the region. Oh my god, they were good.
The rain, came and went, so we continued chatting. An hour over breakfast and a couple more on the balcony. It was a good chat, discussing how the world has and hasn’t changed, his times in India, living abroad. It was nice to kill some time, and learn about his experience in Thailand and elsewhere. We talked ‘til 11:30 and I excused myself to use the restroom, right next to the kitchen. I grabbed a few more cookies to munch on while chatting. They are so good!
I sat down, praising “You know, if you opened up an expat bakery, you could do really well!” He met my praise with and exclamation: “How unmodest of you!” and then shouted a demand: “I want to you leave right now!” I was totally startled. I almost thought he was joking. “How dare you go into my kitchen and take my cookies without asking again! I have had enough of you!” I tried to apologize “Wow, my gosh, I am so sorry!” “No, I want you to leave” Again, I tried. He shouted “Go pack up your things and do it quickly!” I held out the cookies for him to take back “I don’t want them, just go!” Each attempted stutter of an apology was met with a more firm demand to leave. He walked inside and I tried one last time, not to be able to stay but to at least be able to apologize! He shouted for me to leave.
So I did.
How things can change.
Luckily, the rain stopped, but the proverbial rain continued. Have you seen the cartoons where a mopey cartoon character has a rain cloud sitting right over them, just them? Yeah, it was like that. I rode up the mountain, carrying an extra bag of guilt on top of all my panniers. If you know me well, you’d know that this eeked away at me. He made me feel so bad!
Lesson learned, no matter what impression you’re getting, always ask before sticking your hand in the cookie jar. A Danish baker’s cookie jar..
*The next post will continue from this day’s afternoon*