Horton Nears a Jew

Pak Chong, Thailand. The road to Pak Chong is surprisingly steep. I had been led to believe that most of southern and central Thailand, much like Twiggy Lawson, was completely flat. Trekky and I weren't quite prepared for that sort of climb so early in our relationship. Oh right, Trekky. I almost forgot. I did mention that I bought a Trek 4300 mountain bike and a couple of panniers so I could bike out of Bangkok, right? Good, I wanted to make sure we were up to speed.

As I was saying, I was quite exhausted by the time we made it to Pak Chong. Saddle sore doesn't even begin to describe the volcanic welt that has formed round my bottom. But the destination was worth it. Pak Chong is only a stone's thow away from Kho Yai National Park, a largely unexplored patch of virgin rainforest. There were several areas of deflowered rainforest but I don't go for those types of shenanegins.

Kho Yai only has a handful of trails, three to be exact, and to be frank, I am not sure I could have found my way around without a guide. Trailbuilding must be a bit down on the priority list in Thailand. So, we a small group from my guesthouse we set out with an eagle-eyed guide and a 60X magnification monocular scope. Right from the start we were rewarded with a wonderful sight, a trio of rare gibbons, a species of ape that almost never touches the forest floor. According to Wikipedia:

Gibbons are masters of their primary mode of locomotion, brachiation, swinging from branch to branch for distances of up to 15 m (50 ft), at speeds as high as 56 km/h (35 mph). They can also make leaps of up to 8 m (26 ft), and walk bipedally with their arms raised for balance. They are the fastest and most agile of all tree-dwelling, non-flying mammals.

And you should see them fling poo. Halfway through our walk we encountered a massive, twisting, 50-meter strangler fig. Strangler figs are unique in that their roots grow downwards from atop a host-tree, sometimes strangling them to death and leaving a hollow core, as was the case with this specimen.  A series of thick, wooden tendrils climbed up into the sky, and since I was dared, and no one care ever say no to a dare, I climbed about fifty feet off the forest floor into the tangled canopy. What a rush.




There was so much to take in. The roads were literally crawling with troops of macaque monkeys. Cars would zip around them as if they were simple pests. Very odd. Our pièce de résistance was yet to come.

 Hey, uh....could we get a ride to the market?

Just as we were getting to leave, luck grabbed us by the trunk--a long elephantine trunk. Two wild elephants came rumbling out of the forest, seemingly from now where, and began to forage around the edge of the right. Our guide dropped the back door of the flat-bed, and I joined him with our legs hanging over the edge, cameras at the ready. We we no more than 15 feet from 1500 tons of elephants. It wasn't until one turned towards us and made to charge that our hearts leapt in our throats. Our guide yelled at the driver, who floored it. Luckily the elephant backed off. We spent another half hour watching them, majestic yet massive beasts. As we began the long ride home, I asked if the guide if he had ever been charged by an elephant before. Yes, he said. "This new car. Old car..", he paused and slapped his hands together, "like pancake!". His laughter took us the rest of the way home.

 Oh, an eleph....I mean, AHHHHHH!!!!