Day 27: Doi Inthanon

After a few weeks in the city, I felt the strong need to be surrounded by green again. Some nature.

Luckily, Chiang Mai is a couple of hours away from Doi Inthanon, the highest peak in Thailand. How high? The overly-precise sign at the top has it at 2565.3341 meters (8416 ft) above mean sea level. That’s a respectable size, even for a west-coast hiker such as myself.

Unlike the mountains of the west coast and elsewhere in the U.S., this one is not spider-webbed with trails. There isn’t even a trail to the summit for those wanting an ascent. So it was motorized transport all the way to the top.

Getting There

The route to Doi Inthanon from Chiang Mai is incredibly straightforward. Normally I get lost on these kinds of outings, doubling back a time or two, even in the states. Here it was a straight shot: highway 108 to 1009, sign posted all the way in Thai and English.

This is important because I decided to take a motorcycle and get there myself instead of going with a tour or a taxi. At two hours each way, this is easily the longest motorcycle ride of my life.

The first part is very tedious and had me wondering if I’d made a mistake. Alternating between fast highway driving and moving through congested little towns, it seems to take forever to make the 60 Km (38 miles) to the turnoff to Doi Inthanon.

Going fast gets you there quicker of course, but on a small motorcycle with no windshield or faring at speed it’s very windy and very noisy. When scooters appear in your lane heading towards you it’s also very stressful. Navigating through heavy traffic in the little towns is slow and involves breathing a lot of exhaust fumes.

Everything changes however when you get into the park itself. Roughly the halfway point from Chiang Mai to the summit. The traffic thins. The roads climb aggressively and twist exuberantly. It’s a fantastic ride and made me remember why I enjoy motorcycles. Even the sightly-dangerous passing of Song Theaws in the inside shoulder was fun (it was a health concern: getting out of its dire black exhaust).

As you climb higher, the temperature drops and becomes … cold. Cold is not something I’m used to in Thailand. It’s a strange experience to feel that old friend again.

The road goes all the way to the top. I drove without stopping for the attractions, figuring I’d hit them on the way down.

Nowhere to go but…

Doi Inthanon is not one of those jagged peaks capped by a beautiful rocky spire. The top is very flat and rolling. Enough to contain a parking lot, an air force recording base and the little bump where the stupa the the “highest point” sign are.

Thais are not used to the cold here. Near freezing overnight and 15°C (60°F) when I visited in early afternoon, they’re fascinated by all the commonplaces of chilly climates. The market at the top sells puffy jackets, hats, gloves and mittens. There are lines for folks to take selfies and group photos in front of the thermometer. I imagine they’re making the same kind of excited weather talk that happens in seattle whenever in drops much below freezing or snows. Or in Montreal when it gets much below -20°C (-4°F). It’s fun to see it happening in flip-flop weather too; people all the same just with different temperature ranges.

After viewing the stupa and taking the “highest point” selfie, I decided to explore. The air force reporting post is the only other point of interest at the top. There wasn’t much of a view.

The post was unexpectedly entertaining. The soldiers and plainclothes women were uniformly gregarious. I had the Khao Tom rice porridge soup. Wonderfully tasty. But the real entertainment was the omelette guy who had the bearing of a drill sergeant and seemed to be haranguing the crowd about the proper way to cook the omelette. (The secret ingredient is lots and lots of oil). He was a delight watch. I caught one of his lesser harangues on video here.

A Walk in the Woods

After seeing all there was to see at the top, I headed down to the small refreshment area a few miles down. Food and coffee were for sale — cup noodles being the customary mountain snack in Thailand it seems — but I was there for a hike. The Kew Mae Pan nature trail in particular. Now, unlike the trails in the west, you’re not free to walk these. Not without a guide. To better help you understand land and it’s history, of course. It was a bit frustrating since I’m used to just heading out and hiking, but I figure it’s a donation to help the park and its people so it’s not too upsetting. Still, at ฿200 this was considerably more than the park entrance fee itself.

My guide spoke little english but I managed to convey that I wanted to go quickly. After all, there were only 4 hours of daylight left and driving home in the dark didn’t appeal to me. So despite the estimated time of 3-4 hours, we were done with copious pictures and video in one and a half. As a bonus, the problem of being cold was completely solved.

The trail itself was a surprise. Every bit as well maintained as any I’ve seen in the west, complete with walkways, little bridges, lots of signage. The guide was helpful, pointing things out even though he didn’t really have enough English to explain them.

The land was spectacular. We moved from cloud forest to a bare meadow overlooking the flatland below. The clouds where thick and misty, giving this place that ever-changing melancholy look. The could forest was dense with vines and creepers. My guide spotted a few orchids for me. It was wonderful to see them in the wild.

It was a much better hike than I’d expected. Somehow I thought it would be a trudge through uniform jungle, instead this rich and varied landscape with grasslands, creepers, flowers and waterfalls.

Totally worth the cost.

Matching Pair

What do you get a king and queen who have everything for their 60th birthdays? If you a proud and robust air force, you might present the Royals with a pair of matching chedis (named Naphamethinidon and Naphaphonphumisiri) on the highest mountain in the realm.

And so it came to be in the late 80s/90s, the Thai air force built two enormous chedis, installed some relics of the Buddha and presented them to the Sovereign.

These buildings are huge and starkly beautiful. They have a feel that’s somewhere between Star Trek and Albert Speer. Futuristic, but somehow oppressively huge and out of scale with man, too clean and perfect. It’s odd how this modern interpretation of the same structures I’ve found so inviting as ancient buildings or ruins raises more complicated feelings. Maybe I like my awe safely wrapped in the gauze of time. Perhaps there’s something uncanny in the smooth stark lines that makes the difference between an imposing structure reminding one that the world is huge but it’s ok, and you’re a part of it, versus the world is huge and you’re insignificant.

More Waterfalls?

Yes, more. Roughly halfway down there’s a waterfall called the Wachirathan Waterfalls. They’re truly beautiful with classical proportions. Once again I didn’t capture them perfectly. But this time I took some waterfall-video which seems to convey the waterfall better.

Home Again

The light in the sky fading as my energy dwindles I hit the road. More joyous fun as I white-knuckled down the mountain’s twisty road as fast I dared. Not too fast, but still exhilarating. Then the tedious highway part began, but was interrupted by that tell-tale sloppy feeling, that instability in the rear wheel. A flat.

This was just about the luckiest place to get a flat. Had it happened while doing 60 kph down the mountain I’d’ve been broken. Instead, it happened as I turned from the 1009 to the 108, slowly with little traffic around. It happened right next to a gas station. After asking the attendants I found out it also happened within sight of a repair shop.

The repair shop was open and the matriarchal manager soon ordered her crew to descend on my bike and fix it. It took them two tries: there was a leak in the first tube. But soon I was off, with a solid new tire and minus ฿120. Considering the alternatives, this was a light kiss from fate. The sheer luck of it put a smile on my face all the way home.

As it was now twilight, that smile was soon covered in the carcasses of dozens of bugs. With no windshield wipers, wiper fluid, or even windshield, my face was the only thing to impede their progress. I ended up wearing my sunglasses well into pitch dark. Reduced light was preferable to a mosquito through the cornea.

National Park

One of the striking parts of visiting the national park was just how much the military is involved. I’m used to the US Park Service, part of the executive branch of the government and clearly non-military with clear signage that the parks are run by the US government for the people.

In Thailand, it seems the military serves that stewardship role. For instance, the stupas are resolutely the domain of the air force. I’d normally expect some acknowledgement of the state, but there’s only reference to this being a gift between the air force and the Monarchy, not a trust for the people. It seems like an interesting view in the the top-level organization of the Thai state where the military, the royalty and the civilian government have a relationship which isn’t entirely clear and spelled out. Perhaps the king has the final word, but perhaps there are certain words he couldn’t utter without grave consequences. This sense of competing power structures echoes from a conversation I had with Kris, who was commenting on the potential breakdown of the governing system. Politics don’t often bleed through to the tourists and travelers until the really bleed through. It’s unnerving to see the fabric thiner here in this peaceful mountain forest.