Several folks have written to see if we made it home yet, probably since there hasn’t been a posting about a departure or an arrival in Durango.  

A number of well-wishers from the Trang Cycling Club came to the local airport to see us off, and load us up with sweet pastries for the flight home.

We’ve now decided that the best day to fly is on a Tuesday, because the Bangkok to Tokyo flight wasn’t crowded and the Tokyo to Denver flight was only 2/3’s full, leaving the center seat in almost every row of three seats empty.

Wassana guesthouse now has a red plastic storage box of those items we buy each year to make our room living more comfortable: such as tableware, food storage containers, a yoga mat and exercise ball.  The bikes are back at out friend’s house and should be available next year, which we currently think will be 3 months – Jan thru March.

We managed to come home with less than we took over, even though we brought home a little more Thai textiles and some Panang Curry ingredients. We just can’t imagine what’s in those large roller bags most travelers lug around, although truth be told, Stanna did check a backpack on the trip home.

Quite a mixture of experiences this last weekend, which is fitting because it was our last full weekend in Trang.  Next weekend we’ll be heading to Bangkok on Sunday in preparation for departure to Durango on Tuesday. Ever since we got waylaid in 2011, heading north when local flooding stopped our train in it’s tracks, we now stage our departure at least a day early to Bangkok.  This year the flooding is in Bangkok, so you never can never tell.

One last bike camping trip was on the agenda for this last Sunday, while Stanna took a trip south to our friend Chalong’s family gathering.  I’d accompanied the Cycling Club to marshal in the Sai Rung Waterfall Fun Run in years past, but this one was more special as more than a hundred Trang cyclists came over early Sunday morning to join us at the event.

What those cyclists missed on Saturday was hiking up the famous Sai Rung Waterfall (or infamous if you want to mention the historic flash flood there that killed 38 in 2007).  All-granite cascades of falls and ponds roll down (or up in our case) hundreds of meters providing vistas, ponds, slides, pools for swimming and slick rock scrambling.  Mists from the falls shine with rainbows giving it the name “Rainbow Waterfall”.

One of the best experiences was standing chest deep under a pounding falls that kneaded your shoulders and neck.  Once again my Thai friends that don’t swim had their 4-one-liter-bottle-belts serving as PFD’s. I towed one cyclist across the pond to the falls so he might enjoy the massage too.  Frolicking in waterfall ponds is an often sought destination for our Sunday weekend tours, and there are quite a number to choose from in the vicinity of Trang.

Preparing food for wake

In the meantime, Stanna (also unaware of just what her “field trip” was about) went with Dr. Chalong (she just last week defended her dissertation in English – she is the Thai lady who visited us in Durango last summer), to attend her uncle’s wake.  Evidently the Muslims hold a wake or memorial 40 days after the death and all acquaintances are invited to stop by.  Giant caldrons of food are prepared and served to the guests in respect for the deceased.

The only other similar celebration we’ve attended was one for a past prime minister’s mother here in Trang in 2012, and that was attended by thousands, with bus-loads of “respect-payers” coming from all over the southern peninsula.  This one was smaller by comparison, but even in this tiny village drew several hundred.  We see these events every day in Thailand, where a large tent is set up adjacent to a house, generally taking up one lane of the roadway, with tables and chairs for the attendees but we rarely get invited to attend.  Depending on the religion you might see the elaborate flower-decked refrigerated coffin in situ in the carport.  Muslim passed are buried within 24 hours.

All these southern Thai communities have a mix of palm oil or rubber tree “water” as their source of income, and until rubber water dropped to a sixth of it’s price.just recently all land owners have been quite prosperous. Chalong’s family has added a bonus to their rubber tree groves by raising mushrooms in rows between the trees. The mushrooms can be picked daily.

After the 5, 10 and 20K Fun Run the entire cycling contingent rode 30 km to a rural school to present donations of school supplies and sports equipment given by the Trang Tourism Board, banks, other schools and various cycling groups.  Thai’s are prolific in their presentations with speeches and recognition of everyone and their sisters.  Even I got to “present” a gift (twice) to students who dutifully paraded up for photos with the donors.

The finale of the day was cycling to a nearby waterfall that is not on any paved or dirt road.  40 or 50 of us followed several guides up rivulets of swampy jungle streams until we came to travertine dams and pools which got grander in scale the farther we pushed up the mountain.  This was veritable jungle with

mangrove sized roots blanketing the ground creating fallen leaf covered hidden puddles of muddy water.  Tarzan-like vines hung down everywhere you passed and if it wasn’t uphill you could swing forward as a navigational aid.  The only solid footing, besides a dry tree root, was the limestone edge of the travertine walls. My cleated Keens made secure footing problematic, but far better than for those in regular bike shoes.  Half-way into this mire, many of us realized it was time to wrap-up our cameras and phones in case of inadvertent dunking caused by a slip or fall. As a consequence not many photos document the travertine traverse up the mountain.

Even though Trang is 40 km (as the bike travels) from the coast I’ve managed two weekends in a row to visit an island and now a peninsula that I’ve never seen before. These locales have been much further (150 and 90 km) from “home” but do offer the warm Andaman Sea vistas and waveless water.  Winds for half a year are predominantly East to West and then West to East when we aren’t in Thailand.

However we don’t always get in the water, since it’s often only a highlight of the ride.  And in my case bringing the swimming kit (extra shorts and a sarong) on my road bike isn’t always practical and I don’t often like cycling in my padded cycling shorts wet with salt water.  Not that I haven’t done that, but generally where there has been fresh water to rinse.  And on these longer rides, even though it dries sooner, chafing is common.

This Sunday’s event (again, I never quite know what, where or why – just a distance number and type of bike recommended) was another rally of sorts to plant trees near the coast.  It was one of three national rides sponsored by the Thailand Tourism Board, the local Province Tourism Commission (State) and a willing Sub-Department (County).  In this case the location was just about as far north in the Trang Province you can ride so it had two starting points: one in Trang (80 km away) and one in proximity to the tree planting site (15km).

As with all these Thai events, participants all relish the souviner T-shirt featuring the event and it’s sponsors. (Printing a T-shirt in Thailand must cost less than a dollar because even when one must buy one [without sponsor logos] they only cost $3).  And with the ubiquitous advent of Facebook everyone is snapping and posing the entire time. They expected 500 planters and if you add the riders from the local start point and the local school kids to the 120 riders from Trang, they must have filled every T-shirt.  They only had 600 trees and the planting only took a few minutes per rider.  I got to plant two since I was a novelty (actually they wanted more photos of the only foreigner).

Whether this was symbolic (we planted 24″ mangrove slips next to the road on a vast peninsula of mangroves similar to where in November 1956, Castro and 81 revolutionaries sailed from Mexico aboard the Granma, crash-landing near to Los Cayuelos [wikipedia]) or they really needed to revegetate this narrow strip along the road on this remote peninsula doesn’t matter, it was fun being part of this mass tribute to ecology, cycling and Green Tourism.  I did ask three different English-speaking Thais (including a reporter) and never quite got a suitable answer how this effort benefited tourism as this half-kilometer bare strip certainly wasn’t a blight along this otherwise desolate road.

I just like the interaction and the off-the-beaten-path experiences my Thai cycling friends expose us to each weekend.  The tree-planting was over, just about noon.  We had started from Trang at 6 AM, the cadre of Trang cyclists I ride with said they were going to hang out until the heat of the day was waning (3 hours) and would I be interested in seeing a fresh water well right on the beach.  It ended up being in my estimation a spring along the rocky limestone cliffs in a sandy cove.  Never-the-less it proved to be an even more interesting cycle to the bitter end of this peninsula thru several tiny fishing villages built on stilts in the tidal mangrove swamps.  Our splinter group of five made an even more remote detour and went right into a beachside village and I’d swear one of the riders asked a Muslim lady in one of the nicer cinder block homes if we could rest and and have water on her front porch.  Shortly thereafter we were drinking green coconut water and scooping green coco meat from trees in her yard and chilling on the cool tile front porch.  A very pleasant way to spend an hour or more of our “beating the heat” delay.

All in all it was a 13+ hour day and 154 km on the Strava log, but like backpacking, when you spend all day going that distance it’s surprising how easy it is.  Thai cycle touring includes lots of rest stops, food and diversions.  Most the riders use a mountain bike and cycle in Crocs.

I’ve gone somewhat “native” in that I’m trying riding with a tubed head scarf like many of my friends wear.  Made of polypropylene you cover your face up to your eyes and down into the neck of your jersey.  I’d alway sworn that was way too hot for me to try, but the last two long afternoon rides in 36 to 37 C (98° F) heat it has felt remarkably cooler.  Mike Taylor reminded me that all the desert camel jockeys wear a head scarf, and I even have one I got from a Tuareg back in the Sahara in the 70’s.  

Stanna says I look like a cycle terrorist, but at least I’m not wearing the black tights my Thai cycling friends all wear.  I hope to try this in the Southwest backpacking. That will bring out all the stares, but first I’ll have to weigh it, and see if it qualifies as Ultra Light.  They come in all the Dirty Girl Gaiter patterns if you’d like to order one.

Before breakfast ride to the end of the island

It’s been 90 photos since the last post, and that’s after editing out the foot and finger shots. For some odd reason one looks forward to getting back to the condo for a long rest, but that might just be after a particularly active week, if you could include both weekends. In eight days of cycling, Strava has logged 754 km and the map shows tracks on both coasts, with a mid-week climb just to get some vertical in the mix.

As per usual I have no idea where the weekend rides are going, nor what to expect the feature or event will be.  This weekend it was “camping on an island”, so who could pass up that chance since the island was unfamiliar.

Turns out we rode 130 km to take part in a 20 km rally with 300+ riders kicking off the annual Laanta Lanta Festival in Old Town, Koh Lanta.  Gathering at a small college on the north-western corner of the island, we rode en masse along the east coast to the leeward “old town”. None of the photos captures the spectacle of a 20 minute swarm of cycles passing along a two-lane coastal road between villages, rural communities and into Old Town.  You’re constantly reminded of the spectacle uniqueness, when most everyone along the side-lines is holding a camera, with mouth open in awe or cheering.

Koh Lanta is one of the tourist hot-spots, where the more adventurous of the thousand upon thousands of Thailand tourist per day venture. We never wheeled by anything remotely exclusive or touristy looking, nor any of the brochure-worthy white beaches with rows of umbrellas, white and soon-to-be tanned European “foreigners.” They were only evident on wayward scooters, song-tows and vans paused on the roadside.

Not until we arrived in Old Town did one realize that we were involuntary “extras” in this larger than life village “movie set.” My aversion to being part of tourist throngs was pegged the moment the sun started to set and the festivities commenced.  This density of tourists is only reached in the Bangkok Arrivals terminal or at something like the New Year Chaing Mai Night Market. (Sure, Chinese New Year gathering in Trang had crowds, but that was locals.} The costume department worked overtime fitting out this crowd of foreigners on holiday.

Surely the night market in Old Town is a regular event, however for the Laanta Lanta Festival the entire town became the Studio set, with just about every flat spot or store front a venue for food, shopping, entertainment or art.  The famous restaurants set up whole “gardens” of dining, the various indigenous peoples marched in the parade and had booths to promote their ethnicity or handiwork. At least four performance stages were set up on the “lot”, one with the requisite three jumbo-tron screens giving you live action video if you can’t get close enough.

As in many of the coastal communities the primary population seems to be Muslim and in the 5-block double-sided phalanx of food stalls there wasn’t any MuPing to be had, but just about all the other Thai food on sticks or in cups and Styrofoam take-away containers could be had.  It wasn’t hard to replace the 4,092 calories Strava logged.

Walking along with the meandering throng, grazing the food stalls, didn’t quite pull in the entire cast of characters, tattooed European tribal millennials, and bit actors.  Only once you found a un-retail-covered flat spot to pause and let the extras flow back and forth could you envisage  this was just one continuous “take” like the filming of Russian Ark. At first it was easy to use the Disneyland metaphor, but the rides were few, only a traveling ferris wheel and kiddie train.  This is the set for the “foreigners holiday vision” of Thailand. All the kitschy trinkets, the side-walk pubs, restaurants and food stalls, the bars with lonely guitarists and jazz trios covering well-known and trite tunes.  The foreigner frenzy finding “Thai clothing,” clown pants, or jewelry (which no-one in Thailand wears anymore – except in parades or on stage) to take home as souvenirs. However, it’s their party and both the Thai entrepreneurs and the foreigners like this movie or theme park.  A symbiotic relationship.

House front porch where we “camped”

Our group, some 18 or 19 riders from Trang, split into two groups: one snagged a house on the water with deck large enough for six tents and the other half went to the temple grounds and camped there.  We all grazed and “acted as extras” in town for a couple of hours after showers and bucket washing our lycra, but were eager to bed down for the following day’s 150 km ride home.

We got up early to watch the sun rise across the northern end of the Straits of Malacca with it’s tidal mud flats, and were among only a handful of people where there were hordes just hours before.

Deck over the tidal basin

House interior where we “camped” on the deck