I am not going to die here. This I know. Well, I’m at least 85% sure. I tell myself that the slimy creatures brushing against my legs are just fish… just huge cave-dwelling fish… and fish don’t eat humans. But that huge yellow snake that we saw a moment ago, deftly slithering through the water without eyes… where is he now?! I try to stay calm and relaxed, to enjoy the adventure in this pitch-black cavern, but my fingers give me away: they are clutched desperately around my iPhone, my only source of light, as I wade upstream in this dark underground abyss. I see the beam coming from Michael’s headlamp as he looks back at me, wondering why I’m taking so long.
My anxiety is not calmed by the fact that death here would, in a way, be very cool: my final thoughts would mingle with those of ancient Thais who were buried 1,700 years ago in huge wooden coffins nearby. I try to push away these morbid thoughts and keep moving forward, wanting to keep up with Michael so that I’m not alone in this deep, dank, dark world.
Taylor explores the exit cavern of Tham Lod Cave in Northern Thailand
A small sampling of the huge fish that swarmed our legs as we trekked through the cave’s river; we first discovered the fish in the depths of the cave as they brushed against our legs
We are on an unplanned journey through Tham Lod Cave, waist-deep in the river running inside it, near a teeny village in Northern Thailand only a few miles from the Myanmar border. The river rocks near the entrance to the cave have turned to soft, slippery, consuming mud that makes a disgusting sucking sound with each step forward.
A bamboo raft, guided by a single gas lantern, floats down the river past us, its occupants admiring the formations looming overhead, the bats hanging from the ceiling, the giant fish swimming below. “THIS IS SO AWESOME!” Michael exclaims from somewhere in the darkness. Why didn’t we take the tour? I wonder to myself as my morale sinks lower. But I can see the light at the end of this tunnel – literally – and hope that we’ll be able to make it. Michael soon relays back to me that we would have to swim to get through the exit and he begrudgingly turns around (the camera gear cannot be risked). Cursing our forced retreat back into the long, dark cave, we pick up our pace, ready to be back in the safety of sunlight.
A bamboo raft with lanterns travels peacefully through Tham Lod Cave as the fish look for handouts… the same fish we walked through only moments before
A monk takes a rest deep inside of Tham Lod Cave
This was the beginning of our spelunking adventures that became a feature experience of our time in Northern Thailand. After reluctantly leaving the warm beaches and karst towers of the Andaman coast (click here for our last post), we landed in Chiang Mai, the “cultural capital” of Northern Thailand, just in time to say goodbye to 2014. Meeting up with some Tonsai friends (Kevin and Shelly, and then later James), we navigated our way through miles of markets centered around Tha Phae Gate, the historic entrance to the Old City, and witnessed the traditional celebration of a new year: people launching sky lanterns, like paper hot air balloons, from the cities’ bridges, carrying their wishes, hopes and dreams for prosperity in the new year to the gods. Watching these radiant lights float around the sky was magical.
What we hadn’t realized before seeing this event was how often people’s hopes and dreams veered off course, slowly smoldering in power lines and tree branches before returning to the streets as ashes and burnt metal. What goes up must come down, and the second half of the trip wasn’t nearly as magical, yet felt every bit as symbolic. But that didn’t detract from the incredible ambiance and the tangible energy of an entire crowd partaking in what, as Michael put it, is the most beautiful way to litter ever invented.
Sky Lanterns fill the night as fireworks herald the end of 2014
The celebratory night market overwhelms Tha Phae Gate on New Year’s Eve
Kevin, Shelly and I flash peace signs waiting for the NYE countdown while Michael finds the little shop he came to Asia to see…
After a few days acquainting ourselves with Chiang Mai (we love it!), we decided to follow a whim that ultimately shaped our entire experience of Thailand…
With my arms circled around Michael’s waist and the wind blowing through my hair, I couldn’t wipe the foolish grin off my face if I tried. We were on a new thrilling adventure, and we looked and felt totally ridiculous. Our ride was a white 125 cc scooter with the turning radius of a hippopotamus. We called her White Lightning, although that name was a poor fit when she traveled uphill, fully loaded. My helmet felt more like an oversized dunce hat than a protective device as every jolt knocked it off-kilter. At about 30 MPH, it seemed like we were racing through the streets, straddling the Danger Zone and dodging mortal threats left and right like a video game… until an ice-cream-selling tuk tuk would blow by, leaving us in his dust. Regardless, this was fun, pure and simple.
After our first drive, one thing was certain: we loved scootering! Also, it gave us more silly photos opps than just about anything we’ve done. Our one-day scooter rental turned into a three-week love affair with White Lightening that lasted over 2,000 kilometers and covered our remaining time in Thailand.
With White Lightning as our prop, we never tired of taking scootering selfies
Michael hits the open road as we visit hill tribes in Northern Thailand, shocked at the incredible roads linking different villages in the middle of nowhere
With the scooter as our adventure chariot, our first order of business was to check out Crazy Horse Buttress, the acclaimed climbing area we heard so much about from fellow travelers in Tonsai. We scootered to the climbing area’s closest little town, Mae On, where by a stroke of luck we found a beautiful guesthouse with a great vibe, good food and the cleanest sheets we’d had in months. Again amongst old Tonsai friends, we climbed at Crazy Horse for several days, loving the drier climate, the striking arches and rock features, the developed cave routes, and the approach hikes through bamboo forests. Throughout our month in Northern Thailand, we would frequently return to Crazy Horse to have fun and monkey around on rocks between other adventures.
Taylor redpoints her project in The Archway at Crazy Horse Buttress
Shelly makes her final moves of the day as the sun sets at Crazy Horse Buttress
Taylor uses a headlamp to guide her next moves on a surreal climb inside of Windy Cave at Crazy Horse Buttress
Taylor tackles “The Rooftop” at Crazy Horse Buttress
After climbing for many days at Crazy Horse, we were ready to see more of the countryside. An epiphany struck: let’s do a scooter tour around Northern Thailand! After a little Googling, we set our sights on the Mae Hong Son Loop. Approximately 600 kilometers in total (370 miles), this loop is famous for its epic, steep, and copious curves around the countryside of Northern Thailand; a popular tourist t-shirt insignia proudly declares this loop to have 1,864 curves.
Chiang Mai, the cultural capital of Northern Thailand, is the start and end of the 370-mile Mae Hong Son Loop we scootered
If our experience on Thailand’s extremely curvy roads is any indication, the country must be one of the world’s largest importers of turn-related signs, most of which (thankfully) do not require translation
We packed in many of the tourist treasures along the route, scootering from caves to hill tribe villages, to the King’s summer palace, to Thailand’s highest mountain, and generally followed our whim to pull over whenever something intrigued us.
One of the many beautiful views of the countryside near the Mae Hong Son Loop
A shy girl smiles coyly behind a flower as she walks home from school in a Karen hill tribe outside of Mae Hong Son
Michael gazes at the view from Doi Inthanon, the highest mountain in Thailand with the added bonus that you can scooter to the top! Of course we had to “summit” 🙂
Michael, Taylor and White Lightning all summit the highest point in Thailand together (not pictured: White Lightning – she was required to stay in the parking lot)
Boy Batman joins forces with a monk to no doubt make the world a better place while another monk peacefully folds socks in a garden, both near the summit of Doi Inthanon
Taylor stands in the garden of the Buddhist temple near Doi Inthanon, the highest point in Thailand
This beauty was strutting his stuff at the King’s summer palace
The sun begins to set as we scooter through the countryside outside of Mae Hong Son
A farmer cultivates his field along a small road off the Mae Hong Son Loop
Signs for local, organic
coffee pepper the highway and we simply couldn’t resist
The final rays of sunlight reflect on the lake in the center of Mae Hong Son, a beautiful little city and the furthest point on the loop from Chiang Mai
One unexpected detour landed us on an elephant’s back. We were leaving Pai, an unabashedly tourist-oriented town where grungy backpackers seem to outnumber locals by at least 3-to-1, when we found ourselves at an elephant camp and stopped for a little looksee. We soon found ourselves riding an elephant bareback, the sway of his slow, sauntering steps swinging us side-to-side, our legs chaffing from the wiry hairs poking up through the elephant’s tough skin. When another group of elephants passed us at a much quicker clip, we dubbed our elephant “Pokey.” As we reached the river, the game began: with his body deep in the water, Pokey started with little wiggles that crescendoed into violent twists, bucking us off his back and into the water! A few quiet commands from his trainer would convince Pokey to let us climb up again before he would spray us with water or buck us off. It was like being a little kid again with your dad throwing you off his shoulders in the pool – except this was a massive elephant.
Michael and Pokey are ready for an adventure! If only Pokey would move just a tad bit faster…
We strike a pose as we dry off in the sun, our legs chaffing against Pokey’s tough skin and pokey hairs
Scootering on remote and shockingly well-maintained roads around the countryside was itself an adventure. But our most memorable times were in the deepest, darkest depths of the earth…
After completing the Mae Hong Son Loop, we had another epiphany: let’s do a caving trip! With the amount of available information being slightly above zilch and a comparable amount of spelunking experience between the two of us, we ventured back toward the Myanmar-Thailand border to explore holes in the earth. The inside of the caves we explored held all sorts of surprises: rivers, waterfalls, ancient coffins, Buddhist shrines, seats for meditation, uncountable bats, the biggest spiders we’ve ever seen and tons of other weird cave-dwelling insects. Some of these features were awe-inspiring, but many would be at home in our nightmares.
Some of our many surprises in the caves of Northern Thailand included huge cliffs, jungle paths, low ceilings, and (of course) giant spiders
A spelunking version of The Narrows in Zion (but without the people), this river cuts a cave corridor through a mountain. We waded up it for about a kilometer before things got a little too dicey for us. This photo was taken near the entrance, where there was supplemental light
Caves came in various stages of development and disrepair. This one was clearly abandoned by whoever maintained it in the past
One cave experience was particularly memorable. Armed only with a hand-drawn map and a sense of adventure, we set out one morning in search of a cave called The Sacred Well. After scooting through old farming fields, we hiked through bamboo forests and overgrown jungle on a slight indentation that kind of resembled a path, hoping that we were going in the right direction and, more importantly, that we could find our way back. Eventually, the trees cleared as we approached an overhanging cliff, the bottom of which continued to recede into the earth with a small trail of steps leading down into an opening. Once through the opening, our jaws dropped. The cavern was the size of a basketball gym with sunbeams penetrating the cracks in its roof, touching the ground like tangible spears of light. It felt unreal… mystical… sacred. We stayed until the sun moved across the sky, the rays of light disappearing with it.
Taylor stands at the entrance to the Sacred Well Cave outside of Sappong
The sun streams down into the Sacred Well Cave in seemingly tangible beams of light
Most of the time, and mostly thanks to Michael’s innate GPS, our spelunking navigation was quite precise. But on the outskirts of a Karen village, we found ourselves stumped. We knew there were at least three caves within striking distance, but the concrete path we were on forked in two directions, with one veering left being only two feet wide and rising steeply through the jungle. Was this weird jungle sidewalk the way to the caves? Would White Lighting be up for this challenge? How would we find these caves if there wasn’t even a sign here near the village?
Taylor contemplating the greater things in life, assisted by a beam of light
As we pondered our options, a young villager on a dirt bike pulled over to see if we needed help. “Caves?” we asked, pointing down the wide road with hope. “There.” He replied, pointed to the narrow, dubious jungle path. “You want caves, me guide, 100 baht?” he asked with a sweet smile. Michael and I looked at each other. 100 baht is about US$3; he had struck our price point. “Um… sure!” we agreed in unison. A few minutes later, we were off with our new guide, scootering down the scarily narrow track, swerving around villagers, brushing against overgrown trees, crossing streams over bamboo bridges of questionable strength, all with very little room for error. White Lightning handled it like a champ, and it was a real testament to Michael’s growing comfort with her. I just held on for dear life.
After a long, terrifying ride with several unsigned turns, we parked the scooters and started walking. As soon as my feet hit the ground, our guide was at my side, grabbing my arm as if I needed his assistance to walk. This seems to happen often with guides so I’ve come to just accept it, as irritating and condescending as it feels to me. But as he grabbed my hand, he interlaced our fingers and I thought to myself: well, this is new… Soon, but not soon enough for me, we found ourselves at the small entrance to Long Cave, an aptly-named tunnel that’s about half a kilometer long. There our guide took on an unnerving resemblance to Smeagol, frequently asking us to turn off our flashlights so we could see how dark it was, making various animal impressions, touching my hand and shoulders unnecessarily, and generally being weird and creepy. My gut told me he was harmless, and possibly disabled, so onward we went, as if this was all normal behavior. Then came the photos – he wanted many with me and none with Michael. For each one, he took my arm and wrapped it around his shoulders, and for the last photo even went for a kiss on my cheek! Michael thought the whole situation was hilariously cliché (just think… Smeagol for a caving guide!), but we were both happy to eventually get back to our scooter and head to our lodge that was just far enough away for me to breath deeply.
Our creepy caving “guide” resembled Smeagol and pushed the limits of what Taylor could tolerate with a sense of humor
Near the end of our time in Thailand, we fell victim to a Series of Unfortunate Events. The first mini-catastrophe was when I spilled water on Michael’s laptop, our lifeline to the outer world (thankfully, it dried out fine after several days of self-punishment and non-use). Then we laid out the scooter on a steep, slippery, hairpin turn (sorry Mom!), that broke our cargo box and left us in a deep ditch; incredibly, neither of us had a single scratch from the accident. Then a self-important cop detained us for an alleged minor traffic infraction and threatened to take us into the police station for a stay of unknown duration in their likely uncomfortable accommodations; fortunately, we were eventually able to calm him down and clear things up with him.
Finally, to top it all off, Michael was bitten in his sleep by a nasty poisonous spider… twice. A strong dose of denial let us enjoy climbing at Crazy Horse for our final days, but as the bites turned into hard, oozing, abscesses and the pain grew worse, we finally admitted he needed real medical treatment. After an overnight bus ride to Bangkok, we spent our final day in Thailand at a hospital where Michael had two huge holes cut out of his arm and his leg. He is now 2-for-2: a hospital in every country we’ve visited!
Michael, post-surgery, bummed at his spider bite saga; by popular demand, we also included one photo of one of his post-surgery abscesses – pretty much a gigantic hole in his forearm.
A couple things became clear to us from these unfortunate events: (1) we were incredibly lucky because each of these could have been SO much worse, and (2) Thailand was turning against us. It was time to go!
Without a doubt, our two months in Thailand was the highlight of our travels so far, and possibly ever. The last month in Northern Thailand was filled with particularly good memories; we will never forget flying down the open roads of Northern Thailand on White Lightening, rock climbing to our hearts’ content at Crazy Horse, exploring the various underworlds near the Myanmar border, eating inordinate amounts of Thai curry, and strolling through hilltribe villages. It’s hard to think that life could be better.
We were eventually reunited with our unreasonable amounts of luggage and gear stored at our Bangkok airport hotel and waved goodbye to the warm temperatures and happy memories of Thailand. Into the deep recesses of our luggage went our rock climbing gear, shorts, and swim suits, and out came our down jackets and long johns in anticipation of our next destination: Japan!
