One last off-road trip...

With the off-road riding season coming to a close and my riding buddy Greg leaving Chiang Mai soon, we decided to take an overnight trip by dirt. There were three riders (not drivers), BarryBBQ, Dr. G, and Alaska Joe. I rode my DRZ400, Greg drove my XR250 and Joe rented an XR250. We left Chiang Mai and headed to Wat Chan, stopped for lunch and headed to Pai. We noticed that the bridge labeled “This river crossing wet season impassable” in section E4 of the latest MHS map was finished and a river crossing was no longer required. Chiang Mai – Samoeng – Wat Chan – Pai was kind of boring, not my idea of a great dirt ride.

Pai didn’t seem as bad as the last time I was there in November, only a few hippies, lots of empty rooms. We ate a nice farang meal and made plans to explore some single track the next day. Our plan was to leave Pai and ride east to Wiang Haeng where we would stop for lunch and continue south to Huai Ya Sai and then follow the trail labeled “This Track Motorcycle Only” on the latest MHS map. The trail from Pai to Wiang Haeng had recently been bladed and made for good riding with very little traffic. I enjoyed riding ahead of the group on my DR, occasionally twisting the throttle hard and roosting some dirt behind me.

In Wiang Haeng we stopped for noodles and headed south – in search of single track. We made numerous water crossings and did our best to follow the nice single track trail towards Muang Khong but our efforts were thwarted by a trail that disappeared. We came to a section of trail where the Mae Taeng river cut through two very steep banks and stopped to evaluate the situation. Greg walked across the river and identified a trail that continued south so one by one, we crossed the knee high river and continued on our way. We only got about 500 meters before we lost the trail and hit a steep bank on the west side of the river with no discernable trail visible on the other side. By this time, it was 14:00 and we decided it was best to lose face and return to Wiang Haeng to follow the 1322 back home. I took the lead and made the mistake of letting my fingers slip off the clutch lever and made a face plant on the trail.

2 km later, Greg made a slight error in judgment and dropped my XR in a very small water crossing. Of course, he wouldn’t smile for a photo – nor even suffer the shame of having one’s picture taken with a downed bike. Damage to the bike? Broken LH mirror – it cost 30 baht at the Chinaman’s shop on Chiang Moi road to replace it.

Joe must have been feeling pretty smug as he was the only rider who hadn’t tasted the dirt yet. We let him ride ahead and watched with glee as his over confidence caused him to blast across the last major water crossing a little too hard and a little too fast. It was as if I could see it coming. As I watched him start to cross the river I shut off my bike and got my camera ready. Sure enough, the rental XR was drowned. I snapped a few pix and shouted to Joe that if he would only turn around and pose for a photo I would walk out in the water and help him pick up his bike. I’m sure he heard me, but pride is a powerful motivator and Joe picked his bike up and pushed it to the bank by himself.

We had never drowned an XR250 before but we knew that we had to pull the plug and pump the water out of the cylinder. And we did. Time after time again we pulled the plug and pumped water from the cylinder. Afraid that the battery would die, I made several attempts to bump start the bike with no success. What we didn’t realize was that the carb bowl had filled with water and every time we pumped the cylinder dry the carb filled it back up with water again. Once we drained the bowl until gasoline ran clear the bike fired under its own power and off we rode back to Chiang Mai. Thank goodness Joe wasn’t riding a kick start only XR400.

The 1322 is a very nice, twisty road that you would probably never ride if you weren’t arriving by dirt. Joe took off quickly and left us in his dust. He had much more confidence in his knobbies than I had in mine. Riding at a slower pace allowed Greg and I to intermingle with the locals. I watched with trepidation as I came around a corner and saw three dogs doing a three-way butt sniff in front of me. I knew from past experience that once you get into a 3-way butt sniff, all common sense goes out the window. I wanked on my horn and hit the brakes and just as I did, the lead butt sniffer headed for my front wheel. I’ve hit dogs before and I always remember the rule that you should always maintain a straight line in this situation. Keep straight I did and luckily the dog bounced off the engine and didn’t get under the front wheel. I heard a yelp, saw a dog run away toward the side of the road in my mirror and I kept going at 100 kmh and Greg lagged behind, maybe hoping for a photo op? 2 km later we came around a corner and right in front of me was a huge snake that slithered quickly out of my lane. I motioned with my hand to Greg and we both agreed that the snake was at least 2 meters long as it ran across the road. Greg insists that the snake touched the center line as well as the RH lane marker at the same time. I’m not 100% sure about that, but I’ve never had nightmares about snakes before. The remainder of the ride back to Chiang Mai was uneventful. No tigers, no monkeys trying to steal parts off our bikes.

No Stranger - part 2

20 miles from our hotel in Phnom Penh, Greg’s shift lever came loose again while he was driving. We pulled into a roadside gasoline shop and repairs commenced. The sun was going down. Greg refused to give up on bolting the stripped shift lever to the semi-stripped shaft. He had a nice, long pair of needle nose vice grips in his toolkit that I kindly suggested Greg use as a make-shift shift lever but he was reluctant to cause any harm to any piece of his beloved cult bike. Just as the sun set on the horizon, the shaft was firmly attached. The tools were gathered quickly and I rode, Greg drove, to our hotel with the help of headlights.

That night, after we showered and settled in for the weekend and quickly learned that we had the town to ourselves. Chinese New Year is a time when people go back to their village and share their wealth with the family. How lucky for us, a nice quiet weekend.

On advice of the good Reverend Bob, we hired a tuk tuk for the day and toured the city. Being Chinese New Year, there was light traffic and we moved about swiftly. We visited open air riverside bamboo huts where fresh, local fruits and juices were served. We searched for the best value we could find for our hard earned money. That night, our driver to us to one of the finest establishments in Phnom Penh and we quickly decided to go eat somewhere we knew could stomach it. We went for a walk about and ended up having tossed salad and shark fin soup. For drinks, we had a martini and then we finished with a hearty massage.

A frequent Phnom Penh visitor from Alaska was in town with his tg. We exchanged current data and he was off the next day to Angkor while we were off to find our sand at the beach. Sihanoukville was our destination. We stayed at Oceans – nice place, secure parking, close to food and drinks. If I was a beach guy, I think I would like it there. Nice cool breezes, good value for money and nice European food in the restaurants and mini marts.

Having decided to pass on the three day minimum rental/ride (not drive) to Bokor, we pushed on towards Koh Kong. Greg was hearing things again. Little voices kept telling him to take the ferry. Our Alaskan friend told us how wonderful the road to Koh Kong was so off we went.

The little voice knew his stuff. We rain into rain between the 3rd and 4th river crossings. For 10 km we trudged along what used to be bull dust but with water added became wet bull patties. If Bull Dust Bob were here, I’m sure he would have earned a new nickname. Greg rode ahead and stopped periodically to take photos. I soon realized that he was stopping to take photos of me with hopes of me sliding sideways on my arse. We watched as bulldozers pulled waiting mini-vans up the steep sections.

Being 200 cm tall has its advantages. My legs make good outriggers for slalom skiing on the GS. Things went well for a long time, especially the flat sections and downhill’s. Then we came to the section where they were drilling rock and the road went uphill. I stopped when I was exhausted and needed a break but the drilling machine nearby was just so danged loud that I had to push on another 50 meters. This time when I stopped, the air compressor that powered the drilling machine seemed just as loud so I pushed on again – into the uphill incline. I watched as the cult bike climbed up the hill and out of sight.

I spotted a nice place to park and rest and just as I was making my way there the rear wheel spun and slipped out from under me causing me to lay my wonderful ENDURO bike in the mud. Fugetaboutit I said, as I stopped to drink a bottle of water and contemplate my next move. A construction truck pulled up behind the GS and looked anxious for me to move it. I motioned to him to come and help me pick it up as I wasn’t ready to do it alone.

We stayed at the Champa Koh Kong guest house and enjoyed the hot shower, hot food and cold supply liquid refreshments. Our Alaskan friend came through this road 2 days later on his Africa Twin and commented that the road was only wet in a few places. I think Greg's cloaking device upset the cosmic karma balance and caused the rain. The locals said it hadn’t rained there in months. After a restful night’s sleep, Greg announced the morning that he was still “Master of his Domain, Lord of the Manor”. He also commented that “The accommodations at the Champa Koh Kong Guest House leave you feeling refreshed and ready to ride the next morning.”

We crossed the border at Hat Lek, and made our way towards Pattaya. The highway opened up to 6 lanes as we approached our destination and I enjoyed opening up the GS between red lights and then waiting for the cult bike to catch up. About 20 km out of Pattaya, I stopped and waited for Greg. Two cigarettes later, I made a u-turn to find my friend. I rode 25 km back to the last place I saw him and made another u-turn. Another 25 km back to my original stopping place and the cult bike was not to be seen. I wondered if the cloaking device had finally started working?

Upon arrival at the hotel I found that Greg was already there, having ridden the last 20 km in the back of a pickup. We decided that this is where we should rest and recover from our long journey. We worked hard, rode hard and Greg even drove hard. We deserved a rest and Pattaya was the natural choice.

No Stranger to Danger Expedition - part 1

While on our research mission in Manila, Dr G and I planned a trip to Cambodia via motorcycle. He would be riding his "cult bike", a 20 year old Kawasaki KMX200cc dirt bike and I would ride my BMW GS1200. We agreed to spend the night of the 16th in Aranyaprathet and cross the border on the morning of the 17th for a week, more or less, in Cambodia. I left Chiang Mai 6 days earlier so that I could complete my goal of visiting all 76 provinces in Thailand on my GS.

The following thread occurred via sms:

Sent: 2/15/07 8:01 PM

From: Frazier, Greg

THROTTLE CABLE BROKE-CAMPING IN JUNGLE TIL LIGHT. GET TWO ROOMS. LAST NIGHT FINED, THIS NIGHT STUCK IN THE JUNGLE. NOW I TAKE PILL-UP AT LIGHT, PUSH.

To: Frazier, Greg

Sent: 2/15/07 8:04 PM

OK, keep in touch. Good luck in the jungle. Watch out for the mosquitoes. BBQ

Sent: 2/15/07 8:09 PM

From: Frazier, Greg

SNAKES-I WILL SLEEP ON THE BIKE!

I ate fresh seafood with friends in Samut Sakhorn on the 15th and left for Bangkok the next morning. I took the ring road around Bangkok as I knew that the probability of hitting a police checkpoint on the ring road during rush hour was low. I’ve been nicked midday on the ring road before. I arrived in Aranyaprathet about 2:00 and stopped at customs to find out what time they opened and confirm that they wanted 3 copies of everything. I found the Nava Phanom guest house, 2.5 km before the border. I booked 2 rooms and as Greg said, I turned the air on in his room - because I’m a nice guy.

I showered, turned on the TV and took a nap. Greg rolled in just at dusk and did smell kinda funny. He mentioned the tiger and I couldn’t help but wonder to myself if it wasn’t a 660ml tiger rather than a 100kg tiger.

We ate dinner and then proceeded to finish the last of the refrigerated beverages and were reduced to drinking with ice cubes. We flew the Tea DrinkKing flag high. As we headed to our rooms, I noticed a strange glow coming from the cloaking device on Greg’s bike. I looked closer and could smell something burning. I put my hand near the device and exclaimed “this is freaking cold”. Greg said it had something to do with the superconductor the drove HPU (hand powered unit) in his cloaking device and that I should never touch it again. Little did he know that the very next day, during the first of many fuel stops, I caught the cloaking device as it fell off his bike. "Greg”, I said, “put this away and start RIDING your motorcycle.

Over breakfast the next morning, Greg gave some tips on writing. We talked about how you feel when you throw your leg over the saddle of an iron horse. We finished eating and jumped on our trusty steeds, brought them to life then headed for the border. I made sure to wear my lucky Buddhas on the outside of my shirt, as I usually wear them inside to give me more protection. Every civil servant that we came in contact with commented positively about them.

I tried to help Greg with the trouble he was having with his motorbike. He had breakdowns daily. I think he rode 200 km more than I did in Cambodia because of his early morning parts hunts / repair sessions. I told him it wasn’t the bike, but that it was he hadn’t become one with the machine yet. I tried as hard as I could to educate him and tell him that he should be RIDING his motorbike, not DRIVING it and that as soon as he became a rider the bike troubles would go away. He countered that if he was a rider then who is the person sitting behind him when he’s 2-up? I replied, “a passenger”. Despite my best efforts, bike gremlins would plague him for the remainder of the trip.

Greg driving his motorcycle

The cult bike

An all too common sight

The cult bike ate the master link and the rear tire ate the license plate.

I think I smoked more cigarettes this ride than any other in the past. I’m comfortable riding at 130 on the GS, the KMX200 ran best at 80 and had an 80 km tank. We stopped every hour for fuel. Out of concern for my friend, when I did ride ahead of him, I’d stop every 15 minutes (20 km) and wait for him to catch up. I don’t want to be accused of leaving the dead and crippled behind again.

Every darned hour!

Coming up? A lovely 10 km mud slalom on the GS

I always wanted to be first at something

You know, "to boldly go where no man has gone before". And I am. Well, at least I'm the first person I've ever heard make the claim that they have ridden their motorcycle in all 76 provinces of Thailand. I'm sure it's been done before but like I said, I've never heard anyone make that claim. I did this on my GS and it took me a while as I was reluctant to visit the Deep South. I was waiting for the violence to subside, which doesn't appear likely to happen any time soon. I had planned a ride to Cambodia with Dr. G on February 16 and this seemed like a good time to head south and finish my objective, bombs or no bombs!

When I left Chiang Mai on February 10, I had already visited 64 provinces and had but the 12 southernmost provinces to conquer. I spent the first night in Bangkok and left for the south early Sunday morning. I hate riding the GS in BKK and leaving early, especially on a Sunday, makes the ride more bearable. Made Surat Thani the next night and stayed in a cheap bungalow on the beach so I could take the ferry to Samui the next morning. The ferry takes 90 minutes and costs 180B from what I remember. Samui is part of Surat Thani province so I didn't have to go there to complete my objective, but I've never been there and wanted to confirm that it was indeed a place that I wouldn't want to spend a holiday at.

Samui, like Phuket, embodies many of the things I like least about Thailand. Lots of big white tourists walking around with their Lonely Planet books standing on corners trying to find their way to the next hot tourist spot. I also hate the tourist prices on those islands. Besides which, I am a very white skinned boy and do not tolerate the sun well at all. In the short time I was there, I saw two different tourists crash their rental step-throughs'. I felt really out of place riding there because I was wearing a helmet and protective riding gear. It doesn't appear that there is any helmet enforcement at all in Samui. Like most other places in Thailand, helmets are those things you wear so that you have something to hold the face shield so you can ride faster.

I made a loop around Samui and was back on the 11:30 ferry. I made it to Hat Yai that night. I hadn't done any research on where I wanted to stay while on this trip and just happened to stumble across this place. Hat Yai is a happening town. Lots of tourism business geared to Malay and Sing people, very few farang spotted.

The next day I was going to ride Thanon Lombert, the road of bombs. I left the panniers in the hotel so I could ride faster and headed south through Pattani, into Naratiwat (the southern most province), crossed the border, took a photo and headed north so I could make a small side trip to Yala. The biggest differences I noticed in the deep south was a very strong local dialect that made difficult to even buy gas, the girls look very Malay - not Thai, and the checkpoints were manned by soldiers surrounded by lots of razor wire instead of cops looking for tea money.






The 3 southernmost provinces - the ones you read about in the news.



Razor wire




It's a long way to Bangkok from the northern border of Pattani.



It's also a long way from Ratchadapisek road to Ratchadapisek beach.

I spent a second night in Hat Yai and headed northwest to visit Satun, Krabi, Trang and spend the night at my buddy Gabe's place on Kamala beach in Phuket. With Phuket out of the way, I only had one more province to go and I woke early the next morning to take the 4 through Ranong. Ranong town is a lot like Samut Sakhorn - everything smells like cat food. Both towns have big fish/shrimp processing plants. Another thing to look for when riding in the south? Stinky fish water/blood dripping from trucks. You can usually smell it as you're coming up on them and get in the other lane so you don't get splashed. A couple of times I wasn't lucky and got hit.

The roads in Ranong would make good motorcycle roads if they weren't shiny, greasy and covered in fish blood. I didn't get to enjoy much lateral acceleration there. From Ranong I headed north towards Bangkok and played leapfrog with a group of Harley boys heading to bike week in Pattaya. They invited me along and told me that I was going to miss a hell of a party. I told them that there is always a party in Pattaya.





I found an interesting place to buy gas in Ranong. I've never seen a self serve coin operated gas pump before.




Oh yeah, I found another province that I'm sure no one else has been to - the 77th province in Thailand. If you don't know where it is, ask your tg to read it for you.

Total km: 6500 including Cambodia with Dr G. 18 days.