Zen on the north road
Only Alekos has a coat thick enough to handle a bike ride in the middle of winter. The rest of us layer and peel off as the sun rises. It is surprisingly cold, this is not something you associate with Thailand; even at noon, the cool air pummels my chest and I need a windproof under my bike jacket.
We’ve been on the road for three days– driving north from Chiang Mai to Chiang Dao to Chiang Rai. We didn’t book rooms til the last minute. We are chronic last minute planners and plan changers, but spontaneity at the height of tourist season is pushing our luck. Still our luck holds. We find good rooms in Chiang Dao and Chiang Rai, and a lovely B&B waits for us in Nan.
Northern Thailand has the understated and rustic appeal of mountain towns. Chiang Dao, less than two hours from Chiang Mai, is a sleepy village on the slopes of Thailand’s third highest mountain. We escape to Chiang Dao often, to run, climb, and sleep in huts nestled in the mountain’s shadow. Chiang Rai is 180kms further north from Chiang Dao and lies close to Laos and Myanmar. Chiang Rai is better known for its temples, but the mountain ranges that surround it offer scenic bike rides and endless running trails.
When we arrive in Nan, we are surprised to see it livelier than it was when we first came in 2019. Cafes on every corner, offering coffee brewed from locally grown beans. Bars offering top-shelf brands typically only found in big cities and a wide variety of craft beers. Nan is a hipster town!
Between stretches of riding we rest. We explore a trail or two but running has taken a back seat. I am still getting used to the long rides, and they are more exhausting than I anticipated.
On day 7, we begin the long way home, retracing our route from Nan to Chiang Rai to Chiang Dao. We take a slight detour on the Chiang Rai-Chiang Dao leg to drive up Doi Angkhaan to see if rumours were true that cherry blossoms were flowering. The drive up and down Thailand’s second highest mountain is what finally nails me. I am depleted.
As we drive to Chiang Dao town, I don’t allow myself to think of the distance I have yet to cover. I am focused on the ride. I am present on every road curve, long stretch, bump, and pothole. When truck drivers hug the curb and wave for me to overtake, my chest swells with emotion.
A month later, as I sit here in Chiang Mai and try to get the trip down in writing, the memory retains a clarity that other days do not.
— Ina Salter