January 18, 2007
Jungle riding, third world ferries and river roads…
Sitting around the beach was getting tame after the trip to Vietnam and sitting around Sihanoukville for a week made me feel the need for some speed! I needed some adventure! I quickly spotted the route after talking with some fellow riders and started planning a trip to one of the last wild mountain chains in Cambodia. I got four riders from Sihanoukville (Swedes) and a quick phone call to Phnom got us four more riders, 2 Brits, 1 American and an Australian all bored, laying around the Hotel California doing nothing but getting drunk on cheap 75 cent beer. The plan was to meet in a small town called Sri Ambel and then all make the 240 kilometer ride as a group. The first part of the trip would take us through an almost tamed jungle road leading up to the town of Koh Kong. Then after holding up there for a night we would start out early in the morning to find where the real jungle road started and then go 120 kilometers through the jungles and rivers of the Cardamon Mountains ending up in a city that was the last stronghold of the Khmer Rouge close to a town called Pailin. From there it was to be a series of short day rides in and out of the mountains heading east and then south back towards Phnom Penh. Sri Ambel was the first port city for Cambodia back in the days before the French built Sihanoukville and is now just a fishing village, but some of the charm is still retained with all the buildings, restaurants and stores hanging out over the river on stilts. About the only real reason we met there was that fact that it had the last “real” gas station before we got into country where finding a barrel filled with gas was a considerable prize. The usual “gas stations” found in the back country were small stores selling just about everything and gas was found in old 2 liter Coca Cola or Sprite bottles. Gas here costs about 1 US dollar a Liter, and my bike has a tank bigger than most, full I can carry 15 liters. That translates into roughly 300 to 400 kilometers of range depending on how hard we push the bikes. You also learn to only buy from the Coca Cola bottles because it has clear glass you can see through and even then you keep a small t-shirt in your kit to filter the gas as a last resort! The last thing you want is to be cleaning out your fuel pump on hot and steamy jungle road with a zillion vampire mosquitoes trying to turn you into living zombie! Anyway, all that aside, the ride up to Koh Kong was absolutely beautiful, all the culture of Cambodia spread out before us and the road was actually a fun ride. On the road to Koh Kong there were four additional rivers crossings that had “real” ferry boats, albeit some only worked in one direction, pull on head first and then because the front ramp is broke you have to back off once reaching the opposite bank. Not to bad if you were on a motorcycle but quite the trick if you had a truck or van. Trying to describe the jungle is impossible, lets just say it’s beautiful from a distance and “thick” up close and personal! I tried on a several occasions to walk in the jungle off the road to save being embarrassed by a passing car or truck whilst relieving myself, but soon found that even a short walk was a very sticky proposition. Better to be embarrassed on the road, then to get tangled in the brush, meet a snake or mess with some of those 8 legged creatures. I have asked this before but; “Do you know what the difference is between a jungle and a forest? No? Well, you can walk through a forest!!!” The Cambodian government is trying to build bridges from Sri Ambel to Koh Kong and there are four bridges soon to be completed. In 2 years or less the ferries will be gone and open will be the jungle road to traffic from Thailand and spoiled the vast beauty that is the Cardamom’s. At the least I will have had the chance to see it relatively pristine despite the present intrusions of man with its constant need of the resources. In Koh Kong we stayed at this very nice hotel with the best beds in the whole wide world. I stayed here last year and have not slept anywhere better since then. I liked it some much, I even bought a top sheet to take with me they were so nice. Anyway, I was sitting outside having a beer that evening and heard what sounded like thunder rumbling down the road. All the motodops (motorcycle taxi drivers) lazing around the hotel also looked up in amazement as this monster of a bike pull into the parking area. I had seen a KTM before but only on TV winning the Paris to Dakar Rally or on the internet while dreaming away the bored times. What a bike, 990 cc’s, massive 18x140 inch off rode tires, duel exhaust, digital readouts, space age fairings, 21 liter duel fuel tanks, and a Swede driving who just spent the last 3 months crossing 14 countries to reach Cambodia. Most of us were on the local Japanese bikes, puny in comparison, I and 2 others had a the Suzuki Djebel 250, there was one Yamaha 250 something, and the rest were all on Honda 250 Baja’s or Enduro’s. After talking for a while I told him what we were doing and where we were headed and he asked if there was room for one more! What the hell, the more the merrier and I invited him along. To sweeten the deal he also taught Enduro riding at his motorcycle school back in Sweden. It would be good to have a professional Enduro rider along as well because even us “expert” riders can always learn some new tricks. Another thing the KTM rider brought to the group was an excellent tool kit built right into the seat frame. Riding 20000 kilometers was to not be left on the road side for lack of a screwdriver! With his tool kit we could change almost any part if need be. Most of the riders that I had gathered were only beginner to intermediate riders. Two other riders and myself considered ourselves to be advanced and maybe even expert riders with thirty plus years of biking experience under our belts. We were always taking the lead or having one of us hang back to bring up the rear in case someone had trouble. How to brake on gravel, when to shift gears, how stand on the bike and let the suspension do the work, how to use the front brake to shorten the bike on inside turns, how to stick your butt off the back of the bike when down hilling, this was not something you learned in a school room, this you learn from doing, real on the road training, if you will. Watching how the one ahead fell was to teach everybody else how to avoid that line and then go to school from that mistake. Alas adventure riding is not for the meek!
Not to much left of the Rouge these days although they still had a small camp or village on the outskirts of Pailin and on the very road we would be riding on. Part of the road is almost non-existent, since they had blown all the bridges and culverts years ago to prevent the Vietnamese or Cambodian Armies from sneaking in through the back door. I think there were about 30 crossings spanning creeks, wash outs and ravines and not to mention 4 substantial rivers. The creeks and washes all had some sort of foot bridge, usually built by people living near by that needed to cross with dry feet, but most would not support a bike and rider, so the main gist of the ride was the bunching up at each crossing an watching everyone attempt to get to the other side! On some occasions this can be a real gas. There is always a grouping of houses nearby and hearing the noise we make would bring out all the local spectators and one time we even had to wait because a pair of ducks decided to have a mating session on the opposite bank while we were trying to cross. At least 3 rivers had boat ferries of a sort and did not pose to big a problem unless it sank with us on it! Most of the ferries here were just 2 or 3 boats lashed together and then wood nailed on to form a floating platform, some even had a small market on board. Seeing the little market on board reminded you of the fact you may not get another chance to buy some good old sugar flavored koolaid, moldy fruit or everybody’s favorite, smoked frog, or maybe some shrimp flavored hydrogenated flour balls. One of the ferries turned out to be just a canoe and four men walking the bike to the other side in chest deep water! You could opt to either ride on the bike up-right in the canoe, or sit in the canoe and hold the bike steady as they pushed you across. Needless to say I took the third option and in the heat of the day just waded across by myself in my swim trunks holding my camera bag over my head!
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Most of the people we met on the roads were the friendliest you could possibly ever meet. They would stare and laugh in amazement as we all pulled up in a seemingly endless stream of noise and dust whenever we would enter their worlds. I imagine it was the third world equal of the movie “The Wild Bunch!” The store owners were the most happiest, to have 9 riders all of western size stop at her store was to have the rest of the day off, even if we all just spent a buck or two! Invariably a beer was the cheapest (60 cents) and always coldest thing in the cooler. They have very little to no electricity out here. Everything depends on ice. The earlier in the morning you buy a cold beer or pop, the colder it will be having spent all night in the cooler. Ice was usually delivered mid morning and added to what ever was left from the day before. Hence, drink and re-hydrate in the morning with the beer and pop and save the warm water for the road or wait until later in the day once the new beer and pop has had a chance to chill properly!!!
Anyway, back to the ride. By evening the first day we had managed to cross 8 creeks/ditches and one river to end up in a small village of unknown namesake? The maps we had were all old US defense maps and the names were meaningless, how does a satellite know the name of a river crossing??? The one book we had, Adventures Cambodia called this sleepy little town along the banks Puoch, and then a sign we passed called it Prey Dtai. Nobody seemed to know or even care, so we wwere happy to just called it “pooch” in honor of the little puppy that greeted us on arrival. We asked one owner of a bar the village name and he just shook his hand from side to side and said “Aut”! This in a way could mean I don’t know or I don’t understand your question or just no! We had been warned of this area in particular by other riders. The locals log the forests here and they don’t want anyone knowing about it! You can see the logs on the trucks, but for all intents and purpose they don’t really exist! Hear no evil, see no evil and mostly speakee no evil!!! If you ask directions here you are more likely to be told a lie then truth, even if it’s no where near the area they are logging in, so it’s best not to even ask directions. Many think we are with some Non Governmental Organization (tree huggers) or the Cambodian Police (spies, they’r everywhere!). They don’t seem to care where we go as long as you leave them alone and don’t ask questions, and once they had established that we were not spies, they warmed up to us rather quickly. Rice wine and Mekong Whiskey for everyone!! Politely we refused and stayed with our beers. We know where the beer was made and it was cold and the town was hot and very, very muggy. We did manage to find a Guest house of sorts. They had huts floating out of the river for rent. The guest house also had a small restaurant out front on the dusty road with little teeny tiny plastic chairs. The huts cost 5 dollars each, and came with five cots in each of them along with places to hang your hammock. There was no bargaining and the meal was what ever was set in front of you! I think we had a fried “meat” and some white rice topped off with some fresh cut vegetables, some limes, salt, pepper and a few chillies in some kind of soy dipping sauce . I would hazard a guess that the meat was chicken, what the hell, everything here taste like chicken, right? So it must have been chicken. After about 5 or 6 beers we were all in agreement, it must have been chicken! By the way has anybody seen that cute little puppy that was just outside? The next day turned out to be a good day, up at dawn with the chickens and pigs, there was a lotta squawking and grunting and that just from the guys holding their heads from to much beer the night before! There was no need for a breakfast, the stomachs were grumbling too much for that and the communal toilet had no seat! What a bummer, I immediately walked over to the store and bought a week old Khmer newspaper to use as a seat cover, and thinking because I had just bought a Khmer paper I surly must be able to speak Khmer, the store owner started trying to relate to me a story on page 3c! I just said “baat, baat Kin num jool!”, which meant “yes, yes I understand” and promptly headed back to the toilet. I often find myself trying new words in Khmer, and then always being corrected by the locals. Now I don’t mind this one bit, believe me when I say this but I really want to learn their language, and sometimes it’s just frustrating. I can never seem to get the correct pronunciation, this is probably because I can’t hear the words correctly in my old age, but every now and then, if I pinch my nose with two fingers and then say the word they instantly say “yes, yes, very good!” and I just shake my head. I am never going to get this down if I have to say every word with my nose pinched! Ok, back to the ride! The day would always be remembered as “The day of river crossings!”. Not only did we have to cross 3 major rivers on these raft/canoe like ferries but all the little creeks had water in then from recent rains. Dry season my butt, we stayed wet for most of the ride that day. Then after much pushing and shoving trying to get some of the weaker riders thru the crossing’s, we were able to make it all the way to Pailin that evening. For all the moaning and groaning though the ride was absolutely beautiful! We found the river gorges the most fascinating, with steep hills rising along both banks and the small river roads snaking it way along the river. Houses dotted the banks when ever there was room enough to build something. Then there were stretches where you would not see anybody for miles. On one of these legs we passed this very small hut. It looked sturdy enough and quite nice for the surroundings and standing out front was these 3 little girls, rag tag clothes, hair all a mess and wide eye in amazement at the spectacle of these huge monster sized men on big motorcycles. The lead rider had stopped and turned around to pass out some candy bombs and seeing this I also decided it was time to give some second hand clothes as well. I pulled over and walk a few feet towards the house and called out for the mother and getting no response I walked closer and just then the older of the little girls tugged on my hand and shook her head and waved her hand saying “aut”… Again this word can have multiple meanings but talking with the guys it seems that there was no one at home but these little babies. The older of the girls could not have been more than 7 or 8 years old and the other two about 4 and then 6. We all started talking about how amazing this was. To find these kids “home alone” like this would not happen in our worlds back home, but here it was just a fact of life. Both parents were needed to work so food made it to the table and out here there was no schooling! Anyway, I grabbed the biggest bags of clothes we had off the Swedes KTM and opened my goodwill store. These little girls were basically in rags, the ferry crossings was likely the biggest store they had ever seen as well. At first they were a little scared when we stopped. I guess most people passing just waved and they would wave back not expecting anyone to actually stop. Once they had there mouths full of candy, I placed the bag on the ground between me and them and they all stood motionless while I untied the bag. When the first shirt came out the eyes, oh the look in their eyes was a sight to behold. I had red shirts, green shirts, little pink shorts with frilling leggings, dresses, I think I found at least one dress apiece and amazingly enough we had sizes that looked like they would grow into. I got one of the guys to take a few pictures, but this kind of thing does not need pictures to the have the memory imprinted into your brain for life. I even think I saw one of the guys shedding a tear or two from the look on the little ones faces!!! Clothes in hand the girls walked back to the house and all jabbering happily between themselves. As for the guys, some had never had the chance to be around something like this and they did not know how to feel. Those of us that had just said “Hey, lets go find a beer!” as we wiped the “sweat” from our eyes…
Not much exciting happened when we passed the Khmer Rouge Village, but we did get these strange looks from some guys in what looked like old military fatigues and what could pass for hunting rifles on their shoulders. I am glad we in a big group and I purposely took the lead and kept the pace slow and kept everybody in a big bunch when we passed the village. I know it does not seem like much, three days and two nights in the jungle, but believe me when I say it’s exhausting. The combination of heat, humidity, dust and the stress of staying the right track can really wear you down. Now here we are in Pailin, nice comfy hotels, somewhat ok restaurants and quite a few Casinos for the Thai’s who cross the border since gambling in illegal there and that makes for some nice freebies for those in the know on this side, hence the reason for bringing at least one of the weak riders along as he knows all the cool hang outs here!!!
A most boring to finish but I’ll have more on the ride later, until then stay warm!
george
