Doi Ithanon
December 09, 2015Today's story begins on the eve of our journey to Doi Ithanon, the highest peak in all of Thailand at 2565 km. It sits 100km southwest of the historic walled city of Chiang Mai, in the very north of Thailand. However, like any proper story, we must begin with an introduction.
Chiang Mai is dotted with temples within its walled confines, which add to quite the charm, and considerably smaller and cleaner than Bangkok. I was immediately smitten with it, and the fact that stars were visible at night was a big plus.
Two nights ago we flew in to Chiang Mai from Bangkok, and upon landing we were immediately hit with money problems. Biggie used to say mo' money, mo' problems, but no money is also a big problem. First, an ATM swallowed Chris's bank card and we had issues calling up the bank, before ultimately deciding that being ATM scammed is just another way Thailand gets you. We also realised we were burning through money at a ridiculous rate, and one of the calculations we arrived at was $300/second. I think we must be through about 50% of our personal budgets, having only gone through a quarter of the time here. The six of us, facing an existential crisis, sat down for an hour trying to work out where all the money went, before our hunger took advantage of us and we didn't really come to a solution.
We then had a great dinner in the middle of a dark deserted road in the city at midnight, and it was just like old times. Only the shop owner and some howling stray dogs kept us company as we smashed down street pad thai and pineapple smoothies. Every so often, a tuk tuk would come racing by the empty street, but it was peace and camaraderie in one of its most sublime forms. I can't imagine a better start to our first night in Chiang Mai, even if we'd just realised that we may not be able to afford hostels and would need to sleep on beaches later on. At that moment, we were in bliss. If only we knew then though what the next 24 hours had in store for us ...
The next morning, we brazenly rented scooters for $8 per bike, with the intention of packing two people on each bike. I was paired with Lenny, Michael was with Chris, and Jakob was with Felix. Warning bells should have already been sounded the moment we calculated that the journey would take us two hours each way, and yet we revved on to the highways of rural Thailand, the wind screaming obscenities in our ears and vehicles constantly trying to cut us off. On our bike, Lenny took the first shift, and he reminded me how idiotic he must sometimes be in his desires to constantly want to push the limits. Yet it was hard to deny that his thrill-seeking was enjoyable. As we left the city limits, rice paddies and mountains would come in to view, with the six of us howling and blitzing through the roads on shitty scooters at speeds of up to 110 kph.
And then Michael ran into a car.
Halfway through our journey into the mountain forests, we swapped drivers and the new drivers had a go at practicing on a gravel turn-off. I was doing little sprints up and down, when from my right Michael comes zooming past on his bike and cutting through the lanes on the highway. Losing control, I hear a loud bang, and nek minnit he has smashed perpendicular straight into the side of the car. I look back to the rest of the boys on our side of the road, and then back to Michael as he attempted to pull his bike from the wreckage. In his shock though, he picks it up by the handlebars and so the bike goes accelerating from under him straight into the ditch on the side of the road. Michael hobbles along, and the owner of the car comes running out of the restaurant to see the new bodywork Michael's done to her car.
The next part of the story sees the six of us in a combined state of bewilderment, as we panicked and contemplated simply driving away. However, the cops eventually came and took our details, and since the owner of the car had no insurance, there was a sneaky exchange of cash to settle the damage.
On we went by our merry way though to the Mae Klang Waterfalls, and then bought some gasoline in glass bottles from a hut selling fruit. Chris's stomach was giving him some trouble, and my bike was having difficulty managing the ascent, but it wasn't until our pit stop halfway up the mountain that our mood started to crack.
Chris heaved all of the contents of his stomach while simultaneously defecating himself with an audible "pop" by the side of the road. And the thing with Chris is that you really know that things aren't good when his normally impeccably waxed hair is hanging down his forehead and matted with sweat. Thailand was winning.
Lennart and I dealt with our ailing bike by making Lenny run up the inclines while I biked past him, but eventually he swapped so that Michael was now my passenger. As we climbed higher and higher, the cold became startlingly noticeable. Here we were, six boys in singlets and shorts, with the air getting thinner and our gas getting lower. It was 5pm, and we drove around a road block saying that the temple at the top would close at 6.
Michael was actually a more enjoyable passenger than Lenny, mostly because he wasn't trying to get both of us killed. With him in the back, I wrapped a towel around myself for warmth but I couldn't start trembling, making the bike shake all the more as it struggled and puttered to near on low. The strangest sight we saw was a truck packed with men in straightjackets. At this time, the other four had long since sped up the mountain, and we really didn't know what to do, but we found our predicament hilarious.
We didn't know if we should have just waited for them where we were, but we decided it would be a clever idea to ditch our rented bike by the side of the road and hike up six kilometres to see if we can catch up with the others.
By now, the sun was starting to set and it painted the sky a stunning red that was fit for the end of days. It must have given us a dose of inspiration as we decided to hitch a ride up to the top. The first few cars declined us, but then one pickup just told us to hop on the back. In our cockiness, we watched the faces of shock and surprise as we eventually caught up and sped past our friends.
The arrogance quickly turned to fear. We seemed to pass the spires of the temple, yet our pickup kept going further. Darkness suddenly swept down on us accompanied by mist and worry, and it became unbearably cold in the back of the vehicle. We passed an observatory, and then suddenly the driver dropped us off by a Neutron Observation Facility, and told us that it was the highest he could take us, before driving past a military checkpoint. Stuck at the top, an LED sign read 9 degrees, and there was nothing hospitable in sight.
We were done.
There were only two more pickups around the peak, and we quickly asked if they could take us back down, with no real plan in mind. So on we went down the mountain, and we asked them to stop the moment we spotted our friends. The plan was then to continue down the mountain in the dark, despite the fact that none of the two bikes had fuel themselves. The family that gave us a lift drove us further down until we spotted our abandoned bike neglected in the dark, and the six of us took off for more dodgy bottles of fuel.
Biking down in the dark and the subzero windchill, it was actually quite a nice experience. The trees on either side made a rolling rectangular ceiling of stars above us, guiding us to the next fruit hut. This stellar panorama would accompany us all the way down the mountain, past the point where Chris emptied his digestive system of anything not solid, past the point where Michael wanted to end his trip and his life prematurely, and back onto the highway, speeding past non-existent road rules in our desire for food and warmth and everything else that is the complete opposite of slowly freezing at the mountaintop and our bodies being wrapped around each other while wearing singlets and fake Ray Bans.
I wish I could say something good came out of the story at the end, but the truth of the matter is that Chris is still sick, Michael's bike is still damaged, we are still inching our way to bankruptcy, and Thailand is still winning. But that's the only level of adventure we accept.