Day 10 part 2: Khao Sok National Park to Ratchaprapha Dam (85km / 53 mi )
[ Sally typing ]
Where was I? Oh yes, when we left off on the previous post, I believe I said, “I am hating this.” haha! Funny now, yes, funny then? no. I hope reading this stuff is funny for you too, dear reader. I just re-read the previous post and it made me laugh. *sigh* it’s good to laugh.
So! We’ve left the bus shelter, the rain has cleared. It’s a bit cooler and we’re actually riding through a really really interesting a beautiful area of Thailand. I’ll have to ask Tommy to post about this day, because he was in a better state of mind to take in the beauty and appreciate it. It was nothing short of spectacular and I was a bit pissed at myself for getting worked up into such a lather to not enjoy it.
We ride for quite some time. We’re in the middle of nowhere. There are no stores, no people, no food carts. It’s a little bit troublilng, but at least we have water left at the moment so we roll on, passing an occasional family shack with chickens, roosters, maybe a water buffalo nearby.
The dogs in these parts are not at all accustomed to seeing bikes, as opposed to their “seen it all” city-dwelling counterparts who can’t be bothered to lift an eyelid in this heat. No, these country dogs hear bikes, they smell blood and they come running!
This is a known problem for cyclist who ride anywhere backwoods. The trick is to quickly grab your water bottle and squirt the mutt in the face. This usually does the trick and they back down. We had some close calls, and this is serious business because a motivated dog will bite your achilles tendon or ankle and really mess you up. More on this later, just imagine us, chasing dogs, squirt squirt, all good.
Now we’re hungry, we’re really hungry and we haven’t seen food in a long time. We finally see a little food stand and pull over. The lady is serving one dish, one dish only, it’s up to you to choose how many. We would like two please. We explain that I am vegetarian, and “no meat” “no meat please.” She nods and smiles graciously as she prepares our meal.
Moments later she arrives at our rickety table with two giant steaming bowls of…um, do you remember that scene from Temple of Doom? The “monkey brains” scene? It was something on this scale. I saw liver chunks, then I saw tubes, fleshy tubes — intestines. Ah! Intestines, of course! That would explain why this soup smells like feces! I politely try to eat around the stinking hunks of foul flesh and poke around for some noodles, all the while holding my breath and trying not to vomit.
Appetite gone, I hurried to pay and get the hell out of there before I puked all over the place. That was the most foul food I have ever seen in my life. You know you’re in poor country when they’re bulking up the soup with guts.
Worst. Day. Ever.
I know that I didn’t get much in the way of nutrients out of the meal, but we push on and the smell of farm animal poop lingers in the air for the rest of the day. I can’t get the smell or taste of what I have since affectionately termed “Shitlin Soup” out of my head.
I am on the brink of a breakdown when I spot a full-grown, unneutered male pit bull ahead, with clipped ears to indicate that it has been raised/trained for fighting. You don’t really see pit bulls in Thailand, this was the second we’ve seen so far and the other just about bit off our faces and scared the begeezus out of us but was luckily on a chain. This pit bull…is not on a chain. Of course not! He’s out for blood and starts to rush us. Oh crap. oh crap oh crap. I’m still reeling from the shitlins. I reach for my bottle, the last bit of water I’ve got — deliberately saved for any dogs that might attack — I spray him with the final measly ounce. He shakes his head, undetered and continues towards me. Now what? What do I do? I probably smell delicious, I probably smell of shitlins!! He’s going to kill me, he’s going to eat me alive, tear me apart, this guy is a monster! He’s a land shark!
Luckily, he eases back and allows us to ride on. No bites, no shredded ankles. We get far enough away from him and Tommy stops to check up on me. I’m balling. I’ve had it. First the ants, then the heat, then the ants, and the crotch pain, and the heat, and the shitlins, and now attacking pit bulls. And we’ve still got hours and hours of riding ahead of us, with no real option to stop early because we’re in the middle of nowhere.
I eventually suck it up, dry my tears, and we…once again, ride on. Tommy was great by the way, very patient with me, very encouraging and supportive. He put up with me all day and didn’t once complain about me or about our circumstances. He just looked out for me, checked up on me, made sure I was ok. He really helped me get through the day.
Then things are a blur, I was in a shitlin/pitbull-attack stupor. We rode and rode and rode and rode. We finally came upon civilization, and finished our ride at Ratchaprapha Dam just after dark. We wanted to stay on a floating guest lodge near the Dam, but the signs had ceased to be in English, and since we didn’t know where exactly it was (the floating lodge was somewhere on the largest lake in Thailand), we settled for a non-floating, but quite nice guest house on the edge of the lake.
The guy that checked us into the guest house took our info, threw our bikes and gear into the back of his pickup truck and whisked us to our room. It’s amazing how quickly your condition and situation can change. Worst, longest, hottest day ever, and then suddenly you’re in a comfortable air conditioned truck with pleasant music, knowing that you’ll soon be taking a shower and going to sleep in a comfortable bed. All is well in the world!
1 year ago