Northern Hills
People often comment “Oh, you must be very strong, ride bicycle all that way”
“No” I say “the body is easy, easy, no problem, the battle to win is all in my head it is here you must be strong. The body goes on as far as the mind will drag it," and through the mountains of northern Thailand I dragged it through the mud. It’s been an awesome challenge, and I can say without ego that I am the strongest I have ever been.
The mountains have worked me over, the full sun on my back standing off the saddle pumping slowly, slowly. I am down to a crawl 5Km/h and it’s all I can do in my lowest gear. The sweat pours out of me drenches my shirt so it sticks to my back and I have taken to wearing gloves to grip the slimy handle bars. It’s hard going and up ahead as the road stretches around the bend I know it only keeps climbing, I'm strugglaing but I convince myself to make the bend and then have a rest knowing full well that when I get there I’ll look up see the next bend and just push on. There's nothing else for it the thighs burn and the sweat stings my eyes but that’s just the adventure kicking in and I can keep going setting markers and breaking them. The push up is not so bad when its sustained and the two day climb up Di-Athanthnon the highest point in Thailand was just hard work, it’s the relentless days uf undalations up down up down days that really kill, the 20 min thrill of the down just not worth the pain of the 2 hr up and it wears me to the core. The scenery is inspiring though and so much better when you’ve sweated to enjoy it. Smoked filled valleys floating (slash and burn agriculture) Buddhist pagodas on mountain tops it’s the most rewarding cycling I have ever done. I really enjoy the hills there is something in the pain and the struggle that to look back on it is all worth it.
Sorry it has been a while and I had some good riding in the south also, warm days and easy people as I moved north along the Myanmar (Burma) boarder and cross to the Gulf of Thailand, Champon. Rubber tapers amongst the plantations, or women on the side if the road weaving their thatched roof trade. They were good days with side trips to water falls and caves the local band of kids as my guide, its school holidays and they’re out in force. I rode some quite relaxed stretches and made my destination with grace, the south has a different feel and it’s like the train journey teleported me. From Malaysia all through the peninsula the change was always so subtle, riding takes time and cultures merge without me noticing. But 1000 kilometers by train and I feel it.
The plan was to train it up into Bangkok in time to meet Jukka but he was postponed, his bike stolen in Melbourne it would take him two weeks to get a new one from his sponsor. He has a hook up with some Finnish magazines and news papers that are publishing his articles and photos of his trip, four years cycling around the world. Felt a Finnish bike company is supplying a new bike and helping him get back on the road, nice for some. But in the meantime I took the opportunity to see some of the north, and a train to Chang-Mi put me in the mountains. A fair city with a strong history as a trade route between China and Burma as the provincial capital it still holds its charm.
The loop from Chang-Mi through the hills took me through small village cultures in timeless valleys. Cycling so easlt puts you amungst it and after A hard day on the road I roll into a small village purly out of necessity I ask around for something to eat and am invited to stay. These people are mainly rice farmers and their life is simple there is no electricity bar a few recent solar panels and the stilted huts are made of a beautiful local teak. The evening is spent visiting you can't walk through the village with out being invited for tea and a chat, my host speaks a little English as he has spent some time guiding elephant treks for tourist in Chang-Mi last year. I drink my watery tea from the suet black kettle that sits in the corner of every hut and nod politely, funny guys even if I understand very little of what’s going on. It’s a nice life for these guys they don’t have much but they seem to get by ok. I spend the night down the back in the elephant camp as they are raising two baby elephants that require constant care. He will use them for tourism but there are still working elephants in this part of the world the old ways are still very much alive. It’s a very rich hill tribe culture on the road you see it every day in the brightly colored dress of the old women or the girl in the market of Me-Hon-Song with the elongating neck, gold bands depressing here collar bones and making her look buitiful.
I ride through the valleys and they stretch out before me with that dazed feeling. These giants stretch north into China and the mass of the continent I feel very isolated, disorientated the furtherist from the ocean I have ever been and I seem to lose my bearings. In my experience all valleys lead to the ocean it’s a weird feeling but after some serious days it’s good to spend the afternoon rolling down hill some 30ks north its awesome. Winding roads just falling away as you just let it all go. The sweat drenched shirt quickly dries flapping in the breeze and you quickly forget the days of struggling hill climbs and enjoy the freedom.
