Northern Thailand by mountain bike

Like a big cosy duvet, mist shrouds the valley far below us. Away in the distance, a crowing cockerel gets the Hmong villagers out of bed, but the only other sound is the crunch of our bike tyres on the gravel track. With a soft click of gears, our group tackles a small incline but our attention is still riveted on the sweeping vista of forest immediately below us

Northern Thailand is a mountain bikers’ paradise. The prospect of spending a week in the saddle through some of Thailand’s most mountainous terrain left me with mixed feelings of exhilaration and exhaustion. Luckily, the Spice Roads’ tour is cleverly designed to take place over a leisurely nine days and somehow avoids the steep climbs but rewards the cyclist with some breathtaking back road routes between Chiang Mai and the Golden Triangle. Over the following week, we would meander through fruit orchards and careen down through lush rainforest. We splashed through delightful streams and crawled through caves, posed in front of unusual Shan temples and rode elephants. And we trekked to a Lahu village before finally coming upon on the escarpment of a wild frontier where the Shan State hills stretched far into the distance. But I’m getting a little ahead of myself here.

To the west of Chiang Mai loom the imposing Doi Pui and Suithep peaks, which act as a spiritual guardian for the city. They also provide a good indication of what the North has to offer mountain bikers and adventurers. And so we found ourselves way above the bustling tourist city, among the mist of the mountains and crisp morning chill. From Phuping Palace, near the summit, our group got to know each other as we gently climbed up through the pine trees heading for Baan Chiang Khian – a Hmong Village that enjoys unbeatable views of the Ping valley below. From here, the fun starts with a thrilling 20-kilometre off-road descent through the national park. There are a number of ‘fire’ roads that criss-cross this mountain, used regularly by the Hmong, and the one we take turns out to be a hair-raising experience – quite technical at times but suitable for anyone familiar with a mountain bike. The safety briefing at the start wasn’t overstated and eventually, buzzing with adrenalin, we emerge at the Huay Tong Tao reservoir in the valley. Not bad for a warm up!

Day two begins not on bikes but on a boat, as we are ferried to the far corner of the Mae Kuang reservoir north of Chiang Mai, and I’m intrigued by the prospect of being deposited on a far bank that no cars or motorbikes can reach. Today, we are told by our guide Woody, is mainly single track through forest as we head towards Chiang Dao. Adventure activities in Chiang Mai

“Mai pen rai, every year I get lost this part,” Woody mischievously explains as we plunge deeper into the sub-tropical growth, following tracks that are sometimes barely noticeable. This charade goes on for a couple of hours and we don’t care – riding a trail that hasn’t been used in ages adds to the sense of adventure. Eventually we pop out on to an asphalt road and follow it to Buatong waterfall, where lunch is waiting for us hungry cyclists. Northern Thailand is covered in gorgeous waterfalls but this particular one emerges from a spring and is covered in an unusual limestone deposit. From here, we hit the road, onwards to Mae Ngat dam before thankfully arriving at the Royal Ping Resort.

Every trip has its clowns, and the touring group you’re with always adds to the memory. For example, we have along with us a group of ever-polite Singaporeans who are so ridiculously kitted out that even NASA would be overwhelmed. They have shown up with every imaginable gadget, including GPS and two-way radios, heart rate monitors and cadence meters, enough portable tools to build a rocket launcher and their titanium full-suspension super-light bikes that cost more than the entire annual budget of some the villages we would be visiting. Of course, this was all proportionately opposite to their riding ability, but we were given a useful commentary of stats throughout the trip such as, “Altitude: 1440m la, bearing: 20, 52N, 98, 30E, wind speed…”.

On day two, as we entered the maze of single tracks, we were subjected to the likes of: “Ong Chee, ah, report position ovah,” squelch squelch, “OK roger that, ovah,” “We are approaching river with water in it, ovah,” along with periodic warnings like “Hole” and “Rut” and “Snake!”, which would echo down the line.

We set out early for Chiang Dao – a distinctive and isolated mountain about 80kms north of Chiang Mai, and the road to it meanders through a narrow cutting that is draped in morning mist with sheer rock faces looming on either side of the asphalt road. The caves at the base are a honeycomb of adventure and a 30-minute tour through the dark network is a welcome change from the saddle. Pressing on, we arrive in the small adjacent town in time for the Tuesday morning market, which gives us a fascinating glimpse into Northern Thailand country life. The colourful Lisu have come to town for the day, hawking their embroidery in a kaleidoscope of colour that matches our Lycra cycling gear. On display are some bizarre root remedies including one that promises to cure ‘all pocks and syphilitic eruptions around the neck’! Fruit is the mainstay of the economy in these parts and it becomes quite obvious as our route zigzagged for the rest of the day through undulating terrain covered in orchards.

After a night in which we had the entire Alpine-styled Chiang Dao Hills Resort to ourselves, we set out again on another nicely scheduled flat ride that skirts the massif of Doi Angkhang. This close to the Myanmar border, we observe a difference in cultural influences, most notably the multi-tiered roofs of the Shan’s Buddhist temples. It makes me feel like we have entered another country. Later in the afternoon, we finally approach the border town of Tha Ton, riding along dykes between irrigated fields, as we dead-reckon towards a giant Buddha on the hillside above the town.

Tha Ton is a tiny town that sits astride the Kok river as it enters Thailand through a gap in the adjacent hills. The following morning, we take to boats once more to negotiate the hilly terrain by way of river. It involves squeezing ourselves and bikes into these unstable boats, much to the bemusement of some loitering Kareni hill tribe folk who probably think we are absolutely crazy to be tackling this province by bike. Today we ride only 20kms. The route follows the river bank on a dirt road that passes several rural villages before arriving in Baan Ruammit — a hive of tourist activity with its elephant camp and handicraft shops. Bikes are now traded for elephants and the tour deviates from cycling to trekking. But 15 jolting minutes on the back of a lumbering elephant leaves me wishing I had never left my saddle. Before long, however, these stoic beasts are effortlessly trundling up steep unbikeable paths and I concede that cycling would’ve been a bad idea.

Within an hour, we come upon Baan Ya Fu — a Lahu village that will host us for the night. Here there is no electricity, no road access in the rainy season and few conveniences, yet the locals seem content and busy. Our usual four-star accommodation has been traded for a bamboo long house, short on comfort but rich in atmosphere. This tiny hamlet of 400 really is something to write home about. To the metronomic thud of a foot-driven mortar, we wander around the small lopsided village. There are kids following us around curiously, playful puppies tumbling in the dust, chickens aimlessly strutting around, and dogs and ducks keeping an eye on each other. An exhausted sow lies helpless as a clutch of hungry piglets attack her shrivelled udders. The locals regard us suspiciously, for the Lahu are one of the shyest of the hill tribes, and I can’t help thinking we have turned their village into a human zoo.

Day six starts with a trek down the hillside to Mae Sa waterfall, where we pick up a transfer to the base of Doi Mae Salong. Today we will tackle the first of the hills, with a bet to see who wimps out. Mae Salong is an interesting community of tea growers of Chinese descent. Their previous generation arrived here as Kuomintang exiles who were unable to reach Taiwan when they fled Mao’s communists in 1949. Apart from all the tea fields and obvious Chinese character, the town enjoys wonderful views — earning itself the description ‘Little Switzerland’. Fortunately, the climb is all on asphalt and the ordeal is over in less than two hours. We are rewarded with a fantastic panorama from the striking Wat Boromathat perched on a nearby hill.

By now we were craving more of the exhilarating downhill that whet our appetite on day one and right on cue we descend Doi Mae Salong on seldom-used dirt roads that pass through more hill tribe villages. It’s a deliberately short day because we are to stay at one of the area’s most luxurious resorts: Phu Chai Sai, with bungalows constructed entirely of bamboo and a sweeping restaurant area that commands excellent views. It’s ideal for relaxation in preparation for the final, and most demanding, day of the journey. Besides, by now we have covered more than 400kms and could do with a rest.

The final leg sets out on dirt roads and single track through some unusual karst scenery interspersed with rice paddies. But ahead of us, the imposing Doi Tung mountain has a 1000m ascent. Doi Tung is the northernmost elevated position in the country and was the scene of some cross border spats with the Burmese in 2002. It also attracts plenty of Thai tourists to the flower gardens developed by the late Princess Mother who had a winter home here.

With trepidation, we tackle the steep inclines to reach the revered temple at the summit, which apparently houses a clavicle bone of the Lord Buddha. When you’re moving at 5kph with a seemingly endless climb around each corner you have plenty of time to question why you volunteered for this madness. But the sense of achievement and satisfaction of summitting unaided is fantastic when you see the views. To the southeast is the whole Chiang Rai valley. After a further short climb, we are humbled by the stretching expanse of Myanmar to the north. With scarcely a sign of human habitation anywhere, we feel like we have reached the edge of a frontier. In fact, the very edge. The road we are on demarcates the border as we pass both Thai and Burmese checkpoints facing-off metres apart. Spotting some tempting single track to my left, I feel the urge to take a sudden dive down the hillside into Myanmar.

Instead we descend on some hairy switchbacks before coasting into the dusty frontier town of Mae Sai – popular with visa runners, gamblers and porn VCD shoppers. No one is interested in hopping over the border and we are eager to press on to the Golden Triangle. And so we follow a single track along the banks of the Ruak river until we eventually reach the mighty Maekong and the end of our journey. Exhausted after 500kms, we all pose under the famous ‘Golden Triangle’ sign in the little tourist town of Sop Ruak. Behind us is the distinctive sandbar that indicates the point where three countries meet – the symbolic centre of an area once famous for opium production and smuggling. All there is left to see now is a couple of museums, tacky souvenir shops and the interesting historic town of Chiang Saen, 10kms south. But we’re all done with touring and collapse into the minivans for the easy route back to Chiang Mai.