The TEFL course had long since ended. I’d clocked a month of beach time in Koh Samui and killed another two weeks settling into a new town, Chachoengsao: a provincial seat just outside of Bangkok filled with lively cafes, bars, and atmosphere. Yet for all that, the travel itch had set in again. The mid-year break for Thai schools was starting up, which meant three weeks to roam, even for us teachers who had yet to work a day. What to do with that time? Cambodia attracted some attention. The prospect of seeing Angkor Wat, the largest temple complex in the world, coupled with strange, late nights in Siem Riep promised to hold my interest for a few days, after which K.C. Feeley and I could meet his scuba instructor friend Greg down on one of the islands. Laos, with its pristine mountains and flowing rivers beckoned as well. A boat trip down the Mekong with plenty of stops along the way for treks and excursions would make for a quintessential SE Asian vacation. Vietnam excited us too; to stake out a few nights in Hanoi then move onto Ho Chi Min City and check out the Cu Chi tunnels would make for the trip of a lifetime. Or, we could take a trip we’d spent the past six weeks talking about: the Mae Hong Son motorcycle loop throughout northern Thailand. Once considered there was no other option. The Mae Hong Son loop runs a 600km (~375mi) circuit through the remote northwestern, eponymous province, Mae Hong Son. It begins in Chiang Mai, the largest, and most culturally significant city in the north of Thailand. The “New City,” famous for its fortified center, has enjoyed prominence in the region for more than 700 years and remains the capital of Chiang Mai province, which shares a border with Mae Hong Son. From Chiang Mai, the road typically leads straight to the much smaller town of Pai, a lively little settlement that has recently emerged as an outpost for hippies less content to remain within Chiang Mai’s bustling confines. However, an 88km detour dead north takes travellers with an extra day or two up to the beautiful town of Chiang Dao. We chose to make the drive to this oft overlooked spot and experience a few day’s quiet to visit the magnificent caves and temples tucked among the mountains.
This district contains the most mountainous, least accessible, and therefore least disturbed swaths of Thai culture and countryside in the whole nation. Hemmed in by rippling green chains of mountains, Mae Hong Son enjoys unheard of insulation from exterior forces, and the mysteries and superstitions inherent in the culture rise up like the mists that shroud the verdant landscape throughout the year. Indigenous hill tribes stick to their traditions here, inhabiting the lush valleys and secluded hollows. It’s the type of area that inspires magical realism – tales of impressionable wanderers stumbling across villages lost to time; of Buddhist monks with mischievous wit and wisdom, spiritual elephants, and the like, appearing out of nowhere, only to fade into the fog without hope of finding them again. At least that’s how my expectations ran.
But expectations rarely match reality. KC and I would pass through villages as we rode, but the people still used cell phones, and True TV dishes still stuck up from corrugated tin roofs. My most notable interaction with a monk wouldn’t be within the confines of an incense filled temple, chanting and purging my mind for enlightenment, but on the street discussing my level of interest in Thai women. And despite getting to spend an afternoon with a pair of pregnant elephants, neither would impress me as having divine properties. Nevertheless, the sense of grand, numinous elements waiting just around each bend or just behind the densely jungled screen attended the entire journey. And so we set off, the pair of us overladen with packs, riding Italian street bikes on one of the top ten greatest and most technical motorcycle loops in the world. It would be my first bike tour, and a real test considering I’d never sat a motorcycle three weeks before embarking. Our research had given us some sense of direction, the presence of friends in certain areas had given us something of a timeframe, but mostly our plans were as hazy as mornings in the mountains. What follows is the account of two weeks on the road.
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Collier ConnellA traveler gone to teach English in Thailand who is far less interested in himself than the fascinating people, places, and things I'm ready to encounter. Archives
December 2016
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