Hike

This morning I actually went for a run. Can you believe that? I woke up, took my anti-malaria pills, drank a bunch of water, put on my second most dirty pair of shorts and started running towards the park up the hill from my flat. But I had a good reason. It’s a long story.

Yesterday afternoon, after work, I had nothing to do and I’d been sitting in front of my computer all day, so I decide to go for a hike. I drive my moto up to this spot in a nearby park where I saw a trailhead last week. I park and go over to the sign. It’s all in Thai. There is no scale and no numbers to interpret as a distance. The map shows a couple of trails, some waterfalls and some shrines. I say to myself, “Whatever, what could wrong, this’ll be nice, I’ll just take the right fork and stay on the small loop.” So I set out. There’s a lot of uphill, which I like ‘cause I’m getting my heart rate up. I’m really moving. I’m surrounded by some nice dry broadleaf deciduous forest, the groundcover is sparse; you can see lots of dirt. The sky is blue and life it good. Soon the path levels out. Then I start to hear a river. I’m getting closer to it, it’s on my right. I find a nice little side path and shoot over to the river. It’s a great spot. There are pools where you could sit and soak and big banana trees all over; their giant leaves are swaying in the wind. I dip my feet in the water and it’s nice and cool. I have a moment and then decide it’s been enough of a break. I take my side path back to the trail and continue on. I pass a ratty looking dog who gives me a look as if to say, “What are you doing out here?” I expect to see his owner coming up after him but there is nothing. Soon the forest is getting wetter and denser. There are vines hanging everywhere and moss on all the rocks and thick green shrubs cover the ground. Skinny young trees are struggling to grow in the shade created by the tight knit of the overstory. I continue on. For a while I’m walking along a stream. The sound is pleasant but I keep expecting the trail to make a left and begin this loop I think I’m on. Instead the trail slowly veers right and I can no longer hear the stream. Soon there is a moss covered rock wall on my left and I’m in a bamboo forest. It’s not like the clean well ordered one I was in in Hawaii. The bamboo here is in knots. Falling all over itself. I’m ducking under the ones that sag and stepping over the dead. It is dark in there. I’ll take a moment here to answer the question you may be asking. Why didn’t I turn around? I don’t know. It never crossed my mind to do so.

Now it definitely feels like dusk. And the sounds of the forest are getting louder and more diverse. My mind is worried about how this episode will end but my body is kind of on autopilot, moving ahead waiting for an event to signify a new course of action. Then I get to a little stone bridge about 10 feet long that straddles a small stream. The bridge has high walls and a pleasant arch to it. Someone clearly put some time into building this. On the other side the forest falls away and I come to a river. Big broad flat rocks line the bank. I look downstream towards the direction where my hike began and I can see through the trees the lights of Chiangmai. It looks far away and far below my current elevation. I try to think about how much elevation I’ve gained and can’t pin it down. I realize it’s chilly. I must have climbed through the layer of smog that traps the city’s heat. Then I look upstream and can see some light, like a candle flickering. And I smell incense. I look around and find that the path is gone. So I walk upstream, in the stream. I go around a bend and come upon a shrine. Nine life-size Buddha statues are sitting under a large rock that juts out from the hill as if they came here to seek cover and just stayed. They each have distinct facial features and expressions. They are clothed with the traditional single piece of orange cloth. At their feet there are bundles of orchids, brass pots of dirt that hold the remains of sticks of incense, and piles of yellow wax. One of the statues has in front of him a fresh burning candle and a burning stick of incense. I look around but do not see anyone. I take it all in for a moment. I feel very lucky to have found this. But then my thoughts return to the task at hand: getting home. I notice a path that goes around the Buddhas’ rock and start on up.

The path immediately becomes very steep and feels very unofficial. At one point I lose it and then find it. I walk through another bamboo forest and then a stretch where the path becomes a wide space between trees that is covered in vegetation up to my thighs. The good news is this is the right direction. I figure that if this path eventually turns left there is a chance it will make my loop. Then I bump into a wire. I have found what appears to be a power line running from the shrine uphill. It is attached to mini concrete telephone poles about 6 feet tall. I follow the wire. After about 10 minutes I see, about 100’ in the distance, a clearing lit by fluorescent light. The light gives the forest an eerie feel. As I approach I can make out a small A-frame style building sitting on a wooden platform. There is a sink outside and a small leaf covered hut across from the building. It looks like a small camp. I decide this is where the monks who tend to the shrine live. I entertain a brief fantasy of joining them for dinner. Then I remember that they do not eat dinner. As I approach I hear the sounds of a TV or a radio coming from the building. I think about how difficult it would be to describe my situation to a stranger in the forest using only my miming skills. So I walk slowly around the camp hoping to find something beyond it, like my left turn. On my way around the camp I get clotheslined by his clothesline 3 times. He had it zig-zagged between 4 trees. I make it around the camp where I find some stairs cut out of the hill. I climb them to the top of the hill.

When I get to the top of the hill I step out of the forest and onto a lawn. I have arrived at a weather station. There’s the building with the office and I see the tower with all the gauges and instruments on it to measure pressure and temp. I know where I am because I recognize it from my drive up the mountain two Sundays ago to visit the famous temple Wat Prathat Doi Suthep. I passed it. Apparently the camp was for the station’s caretaker. I remember from the drive up that the station was after the smaller lesser temple and before the waterfall. I can’t believe how far away I am from where I need to be. If I remember correctly this was about 5 kilometers outside of town on the road that winds its way uphill. Now I feel screwed. The darkness of night is coming faster. I run around to the back of the weather station to look for the magic path I want so badly to find. Nothing. So I decide that the best course of action is to return to the shrine down the hill because that must be near the lesser temple. How else to explain the fresh candle? I just hadn’t seen the path from the shrine to the temple. From the temple I will be able to catch a ride down the mountain and back to town. Good plan. So I sneak around the camp again and step into a wet patch. I look uphill and realize I am directly below the sink. The sink probably has a line feeding it from a tank of collected rainwater but I doubt there is a proper sewage line hooked up to the drain. I’m standing in the waste stream. So I try to take a delicate step away but instead step into a trail of mud. I slide on my feet for a couple of yards and then hop off my mud skateboard. It is now way too dark.

I jog down the hill taking strategic leaps of faith over bushes. I am moving through the vegetation with reckless abandon. And I am so relieved to make it back to the shrine. I find the path to the temple and walk up the stairs. I take off my sandals and go inside. Inside there is a feminine Buddha about 15’ high with piercing painted eyes. Next to her are two 10 foot ones. And sitting in front of her off to one side is what looks like an old man who was dipped in bronze. The statue is so detailed and lifelike I am worried about disturbing his meditation. I think about the Buddha boy. Someone never moving but still working tirelessly for the benefit of the entire world. Then I look down. I cannot remember a time when I was more dirty. My clothes are soaked with sweat and splashed with mud and covered in seeds, stickers, burrs and there are a couple complete vines wound around my legs. I realize that I will not be getting a ride down the mountain. So I sit on the mats in the middle of the floor to rest my legs. I think I sat there for about 15 minutes. I thought about how I arrived at this place and about how long the walk down would take, I thought about how the temple was built and I thought about putting some money in the donation box. Then I thought about my breathing. And after a couple of minutes I wasn’t thinking about anything. I just sat. And that was really great.

Then I got up and dropped 20 Baht into the donation box. I lit one candle and one stick of incense (jasmine, I think) for the Buddhas in the temple and I took one stick and two candles outside to the shrine for the next foolish hiker. Then I started walking down the mountain along the ‘highway.’ It took me about 2.5 hours. I walked by some strange noises and some dancing lights in the forest that freaked me out. I passed the time but counting to 1000 and trying to not get hit by the speeding cars and motorbikes going up the mountain. I named all the constellations I could see that I knew. I watched the lights of Chiangmai get closer and I felt the air get warmer. Finally, at the bottom of the mountain I passed the national park checkpoint and another temple. I passed the zoo and the university and the office of the Royal Farming Initiative. I bought some carrot juice and a Thai iced tea and some yummy sweet French fries fried in coconut oil from some street vendors. I walked home, I showered and I went to sleep very tired. This morning when I woke up I realized that I had left my moto at the trailhead. So I went for a run. It was right where I left it.