UP NORTH LESSONS
Bang Saen-Tak (roundtrip)
12 days, 2000 kms
Break time. Term one finished at my school down by the sea. While the Thai teachers headed home, I ran a special English camp with a handful of other white folks. I had dreamed of three weeks on the road. Perhaps Nong Khai into Laos or ride Kanchanaburi or down south, parking and partying on a few beaches. Instead my time was cut down to twelve days. This break my work and the Lord bypassed beaches and led me up north. School was wrapped but more teaching and lessons were rolling - for me to teach and learn.
I am a missionary. This round the mission was in Tak, for another round at the refugee camp in Mae La, seventy kilometers north of Mae Sot. I would teach at the KKBBSC (Karen Kawthoolei Baptist Bible School and College) inside the camp - sleeping, eating and working amongst the Karen.
New Battleaxe on the front with new brake pads, Ohlins chain and fresh sprockets on the Super Four, I left Bang Saen on the 13th of October. At 7am I hit R3 (Sukhumvit) in Bang Saen and rode looking for a way around BKK through Chachoengsao. Missed 314 somehow and instead rode through BKK on R34 to R31 around the airport. The Super Four was already super hot. Filled up both coolant holes and moved on up R1 for the long haul north. I was a bit confused at that massive traffic circle and in the packed traffic rolled up to a young Thai driving a hopped up Celica. I asked him where R1 was and he told me to follow him. Ah, khon Thai jai dii.
R1 is a good, solid road, as you know. Boring, surely as it's a long, smooth highway. If I were with my Bang Saen gang I would hit 150 km/h or more while they blasted past at 200 plus, plus. But I was alone and kept it at 130 and watched tensely as Benzes closed in closely.
Stopped at Toom Wahn Pimpanit's motor shop in Saraburi near the Atisawn soldier base (mobile: 04-003-0651 or 01-806-5155). I saw several large bikes and thought it duty, ah a special mission to make pals. With my last accident way up in Isaan, I have learned the lesson of having a good bike shop number in your wallet when in new territories. They had many choppers - Shadows and Steeds and a few big sport bikes. Lots of parts and extra fairings and gas tank covers. Nice Thai owner. He topped up my brake fluids for free and I mounted up.
Lop Buri was an interesting ride-through with its cliff ridges. Tons of smoke to the point I had to raise my helmet visor. Mining rocks and fires.
Around Sing Buri I stopped for a country lunch of gai gapraw and Coke. I like to take my meals off the beaten path. I find myself coasting through towns thinking I will stop to eat, only to fly through the outskirts and never stopping till I reach some interesting back road country joint. Met two old men wearing Army warm-up suits who promised me they knew a good route when I told them I was heading past Nakhon Sawan. When I finished, the older looking one saluted his partner and mounted a rusty step-through Honda. I followed him through a few back roads, winding deep west and wondering what the hell I was doing trailing this old Army boy, sniffing his path as an ugly black cloud poured out of his noisy exhaust. Where was he going? And why was I rolling behind him at 40 km/h? I had places to be, some goal to make after this long day.
He took another left at a sign for Ban Mi. I had no idea where we were or where we were going. The clock hit somewhere close to 2pm. I stopped worrying or even thinking as the road opened into a country pass through intensely green rice fields; it became a long concrete strip through timeless farming that soon swerved into curves twisting around pleasant scenes of small wooden rest shacks, high classic countryside houses, the bright green rice breaking in rows of streams fished by old men with bamboo poles. Who cares if I was crawling along? Who cares when the sun would set? At that point I was riding. Sure, slowly, but this is why I was on a bike up to Tak and not a bus.
It was a fresh shock when I saw R1 again. I turned right and up past Uthai Thani and Nakhon Sawan. I passed an interesting looking ridge of limestone mountains. I saw a small entrance road.
The goal for the day became Tak city.
I thought I had time and swung around, heading back to the small straight road that led back to the Khao No-Khao Kaeo Mountains. (These must have been the same ones Shinji stopped at). I rode past the cliffs and saw about a hundred monkeys crawling across the road. I have enough monkey experience on Khao Sammuk in Bang Saen. I circled back for a Coke and ended up talking with two local university students. The more talkative man told me about the bats and even near 4pm I saw some. He said if I waited till 6 there would be thousands flying down from the mountain. I didn't feel like waiting or seeing a zillion bats. We had a good time talking Thai and motorcycles though. They always get a kick a white boy can speak their language and it's a good opportunity to share about why I am in Thailand.
I mounted up and rode the past Kamphaeng Pet and into Tak city at 7pm. On the way R1 got smaller and countrified. I had a fine ride but ran into the usual problem; left lane too slow, right lane too fast. And then it happened, again and again. I was cruising at 120 km/h in the right lane thinking about the road, looking for dogs and enjoying when I glanced into the right mirror to see a giant SUV jamming past me. Ugly, cruel thoughts clouded by brain as my heart pounded. A foul scene. I could care less if you want to do 160 on a small road, but damn flash your lights or honk a horn. Trucks/cars in my lane is a foul, dangerous thing. If I don't see you it will be ugly for both of us, admittedly much more for my bike and ass. This is something I run into when I ride alone. For other novices, keep checking your mirrors! Another problem I have is on a single lane road (I mean one each way) oncoming trucks passing cars so damn slow, riding in my lane until I swerve onto the shoulder. For a good distance trucks and cars are riding side-by-side coming at me like I wasn't even there - might is right perhaps.
Tak city was surprisingly small - basically a highway strip past the turn off for R105 heading to Mae Sot. I pulled down a soi looking for a hotel at that evening hour when the parks in all Thai towns are packed in aerobic dancers. I found the Viang Tak II Hotel sitting across the Ping River that lines the city. 600 baht with breakfast buffet and free internet (if it's working). Guards in the parking lot.
Took my saddlebags up to the room, showered and hit the small town. Found an internet shop and checked mail. I was anxious for mail from American Christians inre: funds for buying Karen students much needed sport equipment. Money wasn't there yet. I moved on and found a Thai massage place back on the main strip near turn off for Mae Sot. 200 baht for 2 hours - just like home. Dark, boring and quiet city. Bought some Sato at 7-11, disc locked the Super Four and pulled a parking gate around it to protect against wai-roon Wave riders, watched a boxing match and fell into a good sleep.
Woke up early and ate the buffet. Plenty of Western food so I ate bacon with joke and coffee. I had a short route left for the day so I relaxed and started late.
R105 from Tak to Mae Sot is a wonderful road that begs to be done a few times in succession. For a beginner like me it is a bit nerve wracking in points, as you can easily "over worry" about trucks slipping into your lane coming quickly down hill around bends or get fixated on all the large stones left in the road from parked trucks. Still, it's a great winding, uphill blast even for me, even in the middle of the day. Light traffic going my way. Deep green valleys open up just behind the aluminum borders, dropping in stunning expanses that rise back up into jungle hills. Pull back in full throttle and lean or slow to take in the views? Up to you, as my Thai students like to say.
Half way through there is a small market on the right side of the road selling fruits and vegetables. I sat up at the coffee bar and drank down a latte slowly as I watched the tourists and Hill Tribe women. I asked the bartender where the coffee came from and he told me it was local, grown in the Mae Sot hills. Good and strong.
Finished the portion of R105 that connects to Mae Sot.
In sad intervals I had been wondering what troubles I would cross when I reached the checkpoints. Last time on the bus we had hit several roadblocks. The border police gave me a hard time then about my missing passport, not liking my copies but finally settling the affair when I told them I was a teacher on vacation. Would they dig that story this round? Would it work better to tell the truth as us Christians are compelled to do? What would they say to a foreigner who was on his way to teach inside the camps and preach sutsana Chrit? Other Baptist with more experience had warned me so I said my prayers, cracked the throttle and hoped for the best.
I had no idea just how easy it would be. Got around Mae Sot with no lunch and stopped on the stretch of R105 that runs from that infamous border juncture all the way up to Mae Sariang. Had lunch at a gas station restaurant. I ate up my last Thai dish for a while, along with the final Carabao Dang, thinking ahead to the suffering and hope I would meet inside the refugee camp with my new brothers and sisters.
Last time I headed into Mae La I had no idea what I was giving up or encountering but this time I was plagued with thoughts of all the things I would give up as my freedom slipped into duty. Sixty plus kilometers up the road I would enter a new world. This time it was on my own terms, on my own schedule. No one was driving me forward. I could skip the whole deal. Just keep riding man, go on up to Mae Sariang and enjoy. My mind kept grinding me down into selfish pleas for vacation and tiaw as that blue Super Four stared back at me, begging to be ridden harder even though oil was constantly dripping out of the engine.
After lunch I pushed forward. R105 towards Mae Ramat slides into interesting twists as the road dips into bigger scenery with barely any traffic. You fly past the gasoline-fed water buffalos driven by straw-hat, dark faced Thais, gliding through tree-lined stretches where the only worry is the occasional stray dog before you glide into pure country where Karen peasants ply the roads, weary foot soldiers heading to market or back home. An old emotion surfaced when I saw the Karen men in longies and smoking long, dusty smokes walking slowly up the way. I smiled behind my helmet, leaning deep into the next curve.
Several checkpoints line the road. No one was home. At least no home who was checking.
Halfway between Mae Ramat and Tha Song Yang lies Ban Mae La. Before you even get near any entrance to the camp, leaf-thatched roofs rise out from the green fields that escalate into the growing facade of the giant mountain that is the border between Thailand and the Karen State's hill country where a war has raged for fifty years between the Karen and the Burmese.
No matter how many times you ride this route, nothing can prepare you for the piercing shock those simple leaf-roofs wedge into your chest. Among ten thousand smoke clouds from twenty thousand high houses, home to fifty thousand people I wondered where my friends inside were.
There is new barb wire lining the border between the road's freedom and the wooden houses that fence in the Karen, Muslim Indians and soon enough me from the common, simple life Thais live out everyday. Goats moved up the road and I could hear singing from inside. The mountain that marks the border stretched up in the hazy heat of the day.
I struggled to find the Bible school entrance. Past a tiny bridge one of my old students who had snuck out for the day spotted me from the road. He pointed to the dirt path. This last, short stretch was by far the hardest part of the ride.
Rocky then silty in soft dirt, the path was made for army jeeps in the best places and Billy goats in the worst. After the thin, deep ditches, I ran across a stream crossing lined in fist-sized rocks, the path rising suddenly into a hard dirt trail, flattening out in ruts before falling into a windy pass that crossed fallen teak trees before rising up again across another rocky stream and down again into an ashy strip bedded in slippery rocks. I don't think a true sport bike has a chance. I wondered when exactly I would drop my bike. Soon enough though I came to the locked gate and waited for the Thai soldiers. The Super Four has its benefits - light enough to maneuver. Soldiers were drunk asleep. I waited on a key to come from the school principal.
Rougher road, down a slippery hill and up, and up a steep, dirty covered concrete slab. I wished for more money and a TDM or Baja. I parked under the leaf-roofed lean-to. My old students flooded the dusty parking bay as late afternoon set in, the young men meeting me with greetings of cheer as I undid my helmet and zipped down my jacket. They quickly carried my bags, jacket and helmet away. I was back home.
For those of you who have passed Mae La on motorbike, seeing the roofs and fire smoke but never entering the gates, I would have an impossible time describing the scenes inside. Emotion soaked and diverse, my experiences inside should be read in longer stories. If you are truly interested email me and I will send you another story ([email protected]) and photos. Or for good photos and captions of my Mae La work click here: http://www.kyleallen.blogspot.com
In brief, Mae La has many schools inside but unfortunately only one college, the KKBBSC, a Baptist Bible school. There I taught English conversation classes to first and second year students (about 40 students in each classroom) and spent lots of time continuing personal relationships with old students as forging new ones. I also taught theology courses on Resurrection, Justification and Christology. I lived at the top of a high hill in my teacher pal Wado's wooden house where rats, lizards and cobras roam (a long black one showed up my first night on a walk to the outside bathroom). When we weren't teaching we were eating squirrel, jungle cat and dog, chewing beetle nut down on the soccer grounds, farming a plot near the river, worshipping in churches, visiting orphanages and handicap centers for wounded Karen soldiers, landmines stealing limbs and sight from many.
Twice I left the camp to take Wado into Mae Sot to buy sport equipment and check internet, a 60 km ride. Both times the Thai soldiers inside the camp gave a hard time. The first time the guard was so drunk I could barely understand him. They didn't like me taking a Karen with no papers outside the camp. Many of the soldiers there really look down on the Karen refugees. Each time after some polite talk from me and strict warnings from the soldiers we were finally allowed to exit and quickly breezed past the checkpoints, Wado keeping his dark visor down.
With grades finished and many long goodbyes, I left Mae La after 9 days. Goal was to go to Mae Sariang and then to Hot and back down to Sukhothai. I thought this could be done in a day. I would never find out.
R105 is a great road after Mae La and up to Tha Song Yang. A first for me - goats crossing the road. Nice uphill sections, wide and smooth. Mountains peak out from clouds of early morning mist to your left. Karen walk with heavy loads strapped to their heads, some sit roadside waiting on the orange pay buses. To the right are idyllic green valleys. I stopped to take several pictures in this section.
Up the road things change. The road grows increasingly narrower and conditions deteriorate. Soon there is no shoulder then it becomes wide enough for barely one car. I was waved through the checkpoints. Small Karen villages dot the landscape. At one point the road got so narrow I seriously wondered if I had somehow taken the wrong way at the last checkpoint. In some places there were whole chunks of road missing, like some monster took a giant bite out of the road. Those bizarre and frightening sections drop straight into the jungle a long way down and are barely marked. I don't want to ride this section at night.
Other sections are filled with potholes, cows, buffalo, large snakes, and dogs in the road. Some real scenic sections but speed overall dropped down to 50km/h and then only 40 as the road tunneled under a tight green canopy. Wet sections in the morning with uphill climbs. I braked hard as cows blocked the way. The green canopy overhead opened and the road turned into dirt filled path, chunks of mud and ruts. Some dirt patches were awfully long. For all I had read about this road on the internet from all the bikers who had done it already, I had NEVER heard about the dirt. Shinji's words are true - BIG BIKERS BEWARE.
I was caught off guard on an uphill climb. I turned uphill as the road snaked left and then right and turned into a long stretch of rutty, rocky dirt. Slowed into first gear to find the best route up but the ground was softer than I had thought. My tires sunk and my bike went over.
Clutch lever snapped in half. Left foot peg was tweaked - the bracket holding it to the bike broken off. Gas poured down the engine. I picked it up and moved it slowly down hill to a flatter section. A Karen boy came walking down the hill. He spoke Thai and helped me move the bike. He picked up my saddlebags too while I tried to start the bike. Nothing. I figured something was flooded with all the gas that poured out. Two more Karen boys came down. I showed them my Karen clothes and Cross, they smiled and we waited together. Several more tries and the bike started. I made it up the hill but half way up my bike stalled. Stuck half way up dirt hills isn't a good place for me.
It was smooth sailing for a while, comparatively that is. Stalled again. I keep revving the throttle but no power in low gears. Came to another uphill climb where the dirt looked worse and the angle steeper. I stopped and watched a pick-up struggle up hill. I thought it over. I had half a clutch and low power or stalling questions. Prayed. Prayed hard. Decided to turn back.
As I worried about my fuel level I was feeling pretty damn bad about turning back. There are ego issues and also the fact plans had to be scrapped and the cruel fact that the rutty road sections of 105 had to be done again. I felt defeated. But it is a good, solid thing for you to know your limits.
I rode back down 105 and passed the camp for the final time. Emotions surfaced. Then came the same stretch I had ridden 5 times already this week. At Mae Sot I found a basic Honda shop where I replaced the clutch lever. Ah, another good thing about riding a Super Four - replacing parts isn't impossible or expensive. Tried fixing my throttle cable and sliding throttle grip but no luck.
On the bright side I got to do the section from Mae Sot to Tak again. Rode it harder this time and stopped again for a coffee at the small shop on the hillside. Bought a half-kilo of the local coffee and headed to Sukhothai on R12. Decent road, country feeling at times but often big, slow trucks and many dogs.
Sukhothai is a nice city, the best I saw on this trip. Even in the modern section there are many temples and one had a large festival running all day. Lots of guesthouses and foreigners, which I didn't expect. Stayed (and recommend) the MG Guest House (make a left when you see the sign on the main road). Teak bungalows with aircon, hot water and TV for 350 baht. Ate at Baan Thai restaurant (recommended at the internet shop). Lots of foreigners. I was the only one alone and only one without a Lonely Planet or the French version. All looked like they were on a SE Asia tour. Wish I had that time. Tried the steak but it was awful, chewy and tough. But the lao khao made up for it - good and hard and cheap. Went next door to PP Massage. Nice people in an attractive building if pricey compared to Bang Saen.
Rode back up the soi after massage and saw a place called Chopper. Big, clean Shadow parked out front. Looked like the right place for a drink.
They had good pua wichiwit and acoustic live music. I ordered a draft and got ready to smoke a Karen cigar when I was interrupted by a drunk, scraggly and tattooed Brit. He wouldn't take no for an answer and I sat at his table with a group of smiling Thais, an old Norwegian man and a drunk Swede. The British guy saw my helmet and asked what I was riding. He looked down at my bike then bragged about his Harleys. He kept saying, "I push the biggest fucking Harley in Sukhothai, yeah man!" Later I found out it hasn't been on the road for 2 months, he can't afford/get parts. He kept making fun on my Super Four, my religion and my job in alternating, drunken stabs. I really wish I had recorded the conversation though. It was pretty funny. The Brit kept bantering with the Norwegian who was defending me for some reason and saying how much he admired my work while the Brit called him a war criminal. Mr. Norwegian kept talking about how his time in the Vietnam War still makes him crazy and sad while the Brit blabbered on about how he wants his son to know the 10 Commandments. The Swede just sat their drunk and I soon found out what all these random Thai guys were doing there - the Norwegian told the waitress that anything I ordered was free. He had my tab. Ah, another draft Singha then.
The drunken Brit finally went home in his D-MAX, and I prayed for all those on the road with him. A Thai who had ridden up with his son on a customized Magna took the Brit's spot. He told me he owned a repair shop servicing big bikes (there is hope if you have problems in Sukhothai).
The Norwegian leaned over and said he wanted to go get some girls. "I need to sit with some beauties, you know, you know?" He told me he would pay that bill for me too, anything I wanted. He goes to the bathroom and the Magna man leans over and says he has better idea. The other Thais agreed and we snuck out to a sad looking but fun country styled pub/dance club. Strange stage show costumes and someone kept paying for my drinks, a bottle of 100 Pipers we all shared and food. My new friends want me to pick up girls for them so I told this katoey that one of my pals thinks she's hot. He wasn't happy but the rest laughed hard. We finally left around 2am.
Late start next morning. Locked everything important under the seat of the bike and left my bags with the guesthouse owners. The Ancient City is 14km from the modern one. I paid 60 baht for my bike and me and rode inside. Very good place worth seeing. Quite relaxing atmosphere with all of the small ponds and moats and shady trees. Bonus is that you can ride your bike inside and stop wherever you like.
After a few hours there I went back and strapped on the saddlebags and headed to Phitsanulok on R12. Decent sized city. Rode on though down R11 and made Nakhon Sawan at 5pm. On the way into town you can see a large Buddha statue on top of a hill. Through the town there is a soi that leads back to the temple grounds. I headed up the mountain for a curvy, good ride to the top. Great view of the whole city from a small restaurant below the chedi. Took a coconut juice and snapped photos before talking with locals. Rode back down and around the massive park/lake filled with evening exercises. Two Thais on big custom choppers waved and nodded. Found a basic hotel after some passes. Nothing to recommend but they did have a garage for the bike. 350 baht with air and ESPN, HBO. Straight up the road was Texas restaurant (a state I am partial too) where had soccer on a big screen, beet and very good beef naam dtok. Read and slept.
Straight shot back down R1 the next morning. Saw interesting signs including a turn off for a vineyard and another for a goldmine. And I was shocked with the Fear at the gross number of dead dogs I saw lying on the shoulders, both left and right. I swear I counted 30. (Are you noticing my fear of hitting a dog again?).
I had forgotten this Monday was a holiday. Lots of traffic around BKK and even through Min Buri. Took R304 around to Chachoengsao and then R3 back home. Showered and made it to my meeting by 2pm.
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Photo Links
Karen
Moto
Sukhothai |