30 Aug Dirtbike Diaries: The Trail Less Traveled
The Trail Less Traveled
Day five of a week-long adventure across Northern Thailand.
I vaguely made out the words “Just go one thing. Don’t fall. That it. You good after. Go straight. 1 gear and don’t fall.” through Sutheerach accent. I felt the heat bearing down on my shoulders. There was not a cloud in the sky and only a few sips left from my thermos. If I had any sweat left, it would have made its way through the dirt on my face. Here I was, in 101-degree weather, on a dirt bike in the mountains of northern Thailand. 4 hours into my trip and I am being told don’t fall as if they were of encourage not a threat.
This was day 5 of my motorbike tour along the Mae Hong Son loop in Northern Thailand. I couldn’t believe that I had made it this far while I overlooked mountains filled with the charred remains of slash-and-burn agriculture. Truthfully, I still don’t understand how each day we spent on the road became progressively more adventurous. Every morning I woke up groggy telling myself “Today has to be easier than yesterday” and each day I was sadly mistaken.
The bike picked up speed as I began to lean into the turn. Everything. Felt. Right. Until it didn’t.
Vitecha, V for short, and I agreed to this trip the day after we miraculously turned a 4-hour trip into a 7-hour race from the setting sun and a few beers. I’d like to say somehow we made a wrong turn down a dirt road but somehow wouldn’t be doing it justice. The amount of time we questioned if we on the correct path was more than us being certain we were. This time was felt different. We were excited to have a local, the owner of a hostel, guide us to one of his favorite spots. This would be the first time this trip that we were being led instead of us figuring it out. V was shown a few photos of the terrain and sights (need a better word) and was sold. I made it that far following V so I didn’t need to see anything before agreeing.
For a place that cost $7 a night, I felt refreshed which was uncommon. After a breakfast of eggs and fruit, my cheerful mood came to a halt. Sutheerach, our gracious host, arrived in professional motocross gear. My eyes were fixed on his hands. One held a lime green off-road helmet and in the other, black-worn-gloves. He walked over with a smile that spread from cheek to cheek in his shin-high racing boots. V turned his head to mine and our eyes met in shock. Here we were, in shorts, a tank top and a pair of Nike’s. We looked as if we were on vacation not about to participate in the X-Games. What puzzled me the most was the fact that Sutheerach was not phased in the slightest that we were dressed in our finest tourist uniform. It was at this point that I realized that Sutheerach and I have not had a real conversation. Even if he did think we were out of our minds, I wouldn’t be able to understand it. Although his English was fair, it was certainly sparse since V spoke fluent Thai.
The three of us stood on a wooden platform overlooking the cliff below us. I was able to make out a few bits of what was to come. “1 mile. Gear one. GO SLOW. Don’t stop. If you stop you fall. VERY thin. Size of ruler wide.” My whole body tightened as his words ran through my head like a Rolodex attempting to sort out if there was a mistranslation for “size of ruler.” I knew that what he said was correct because as my brain was sorting out his translation I noticed that his arms were being used to visualize the ledge. Great. V offered the last sip of his thermos before we headed off.
I parked in front of theirs. I let my engine run, revving tight on the throttle as if I were reassuring the bike but in reality, I was consoling myself. I allowed for Sutheerach and V to pass. There was no chance of me leading the pack. The road led around a turn that headed down the mountain and not up. This meant that the potential tumble would be much less if we were to head off course.
I coasted steadily most of the ride but then the bike began to work with me, and not against me. Instead of chasing dirt clouds I began to see their tires. My confidence rose as I increased my speed. I could feel the heat of the engine on my bare calves as the rubber gripped the apricot-tinted dirt below me. The bike and I cut through the switchbacks as if we were on a track. I leaned into the turns as we began to elevate up the mountains yet again. A few more times we rose and fell each time being exposed to the bare cliff side. The trail descended into U-shaped switchback that exposed the cliff. My hand impulsively pulled toward my body. The bike picked up speed as I began to lean into the turn. Everything. Felt. Right. Until it didn’t. Before I knew it my tire slid. It could not have been more than an inch. But a slide is a slide.
The tire turned into a plow as dirt and gravel were pushed towards the edge. My body which was once vertical began to capsize. My right leg instinctively extended. The force of my leg hitting the ground forced the bike upright. Every muscle tensed as I struggled to regain my balance. The rear tire was inches from the edge as I revved in order to force the tire to grip the ground. My heart beat viciously through my chest as a chill fell down my spine. There was no time to stop. If I stopped, I would fall too far behind. I continued along the trail half in my head half reliving the feeling of no control. It wasn’t until a few minutes later I realized that we had not even encountered the “ruler” width trail.
When I am home, I am seen as someone who is adventurous—a borderline thrill seeker. But there I was, mountainside, where I may have reached my limit.
Sutheerach and V stood at the top of turn in search of me as I met up with them. V let me know that the next mile we would head uphill. This is where Sutheerach warned us about. I looked at the trail ahead. It was a combination of soft sand, hard sand, rocks, and leaf filled trenches from rainfall all less than a foot wide. My face was expressionless as my eyes glared through the mountain. I couldn’t believe what was in front of me. I had only inches of hard trail to balance my tire on. If my tire slipped like it had previously there was no way to regain my balance. I had to hope and pray that I fell mountainside and not cliff side…
We spoke for a few moments and decided that we would go one at a time and follow the other on foot in case they began to slip or fall. This way we could catch pull the bike toward the mountain or help push out of a soft sand sinkhole. Sutheerach went first and made it successfully up the path. V followed suit, and I miraculously made it without much issue. We repeated this process several more times as we inched up the mountain at only a few miles per hour. Several times my bike slipped into the trenches as my back tire spun wildly. Each time a look of fear took over both of them. The road was convexed which made it near impossible for my feet to reach the ground. This led lead the 225lb bike to fall in whichever way gravity grasped it. Naturally, I began to fall towards the ground. In some cases it took both of their manpower to guide my bike out of the rut it dug itself in.
What made this trek challenging was the combination of difficult terrain and the balance between power and control on the clutch. Once the tire was stuck, the engine would only be released by throttling it. Normally, this would be simple. Rev hard and drive straight. However, straight was the cliffside. It was just a hope-for-the-best scenario each time I was stuck. When I am home, I am seen as someone who is adventurous—a borderline thrill seeker. But there I was, mountainside, where I may have reached my limit.
V had decided it would be safer if he took over. Without a single complaint, I stepped off the bike. As my foot found solid ground, he sped up the hill as if here were born to these trails. I stood there in amazement before I realize that I now had to walk up this monstrous elevation. I started to feel light headed and as I reached for my thermos, I realized I was without an ounce of water. The heat wore me down with each step I felt myself being to drag. This stretch marked the peak of the mountain. Once I submitted I noticed Sutheerach and V under the shade of a tree.
Sutheerach handed me his thermos as we congratulated each other. The silence of exhaustion broke when Sutheerach calmly spoke to V in Thai. I was used to not knowing what was going on by this point in the trip so I made nothing of it and zoned off into the distance. V’s deep laugh brought me back to reality. V stated “Sutheerach seemed to be surprised that we were not shot at” Again, the Rolodex in my brain was spinning, what could that mean. The sound of the engines scare off the animals in the area so hunters respond by pop shots being taken scare them off us bikers. I couldn’t help but laugh. The air cooled as we headed for the last 2 hours of the trail. I had so far survived the 101-degree weather, deteriorated trails, lack of water, near cliffside tumbles, and desperate hunters all before dinner time. My brain continued to play back the day’s adventure and I couldn’t escape the thought that tomorrow would finally be easier than today.
