Cycling around Mae Sot District

What could be better than a sunny, 70-degree day on a motorcycle, the wind in your hair as you speed along a small highway in northern Thailand? On the left side of the road, mind you. At such a moment, it seems nothing could possibly be better. The countryside out here is composed of gorgeous, rolling green hills, dramatic cliffs, and robin's-egg skies as far as the eye can see. Although Mae Sot is quaint enough to stave off feelings of claustrophobia, and bustling enough to keep one occupied, it was liberating to break out onto the open road. That is, after a few hours of swerving around at 5 kph, bystanders staring in mild surprise at the silly 'farangs' slowly crashing into mail boxes and flower pots, and falling over like baby cows. After getting the hang of 3rd gear, we decided it was time to make a little trip over to the border, just to get the hang of it. We rode in the shoulder, where traffic is a mix of walkers, runners, bicyclists, motorcyclists, and the occasional parked car. Sounds dangerous, right? Not really. The highways around here feel very safe, other vehicles moving over to give us more than enough room. Drivers here seem more aware than those in the States, in fact. I suspect it's because there's less of an expectation for things to be safe and for the rules of the road to do the driving for us.

As we picked up confidence, we picked up speed and decided to turn around in the direction of Mae Kause Hot Springs about 20km north of town. After we turned off the Asia Highway onto the road to Mae Ramat, Christina and I stopped for gas and some of those delicious sesame things to which we've become irreversibly addicted. Out again, Christina leading the way, she shot four fingers into the air, the signal that it was time for 4th gear. Speed lines stretching behind us for kilometers, we wound our way past bean field after green bean field, eventually taking a right onto a smaller road toward the springs. We had to avoid some pretty serious potholes (another potential explanation for the conscious driving), eventually finding ourselves in a small town, the name of which I have yet to learn. The people there seemed pretty jazzed that a couple of foreign girls were riding through town, waving at us and calling 'hello!' Hello women sitting languidly on the porch in October heat. Hello old man herding his goats. Hello children running and smiling.

We arrived at the hot springs to find a small park with a little geyser pool, wooden bridges, and food stands, shadowed by a sheer cliff face to the west. Mae Kause seemed like a place where Thai families might take the kids on the weekend, and we were the only foreigners there. Observing a few kids playing near the geyser, fishing what looked like a ratan basket of eggs out of the geyser with a stick. We followed suit, buying some 'cai lek' (small eggs) from the 'pu ying' (woman) to put into the 'nam rron' (hot water). While our eggs were boiling, we met a couple of sisters having a picnic dinner. They invited us to join them on their little blanket and we chatted, mostly in English and a bit in Thai. The older sister was with the tourist police and spoke more English than the younger one, who was smiley and shy. We shared our eggs and sesame things with them, they their papaya salad and prawns with us. When we noticed that the sun had disappeared behind the cliff, at the thought of riding home in the dark we bade farewell to the sisters and headed for town. The ride back was even more beautiful in the lowering light, the breeze newly cool, relative familiarity calling us back.