Doi Khun Tan -- Thailand IX

There are no Cliff Bars in Thailand. There are, however, buns with middles of various fillings. Karen and I were going to hike Doi Khun Tan (at 1373 meter tall and a former German lookout point during WWII, the summit is the highest summit reachable on self-guided tours around Chiang Mai), and we needed provisions. We stopped by the 7-11 across the street from the train station to buy buns filled with taro, red bean, vanilla custard, and custard cream, dried squid, and salmon teriyaki flavored Lays.

Our train ride took us through beautiful Thai countryside, covered in rice paddies and bordered by green hills. A group of Thai school children wearing matching uniforms of yellow polo shirts, blue pants, brown shoes, and brown socks got on our car a few stop outside of Chiang Mai. During the ride, the school children pulled snacks out of the bags—potato chips, dried squid, rice wrapped in banana leaves—and shared with one another. They weren’t sharing with me though, so I pulled out my own package of squid snacks out of my backpack and ate them without sharing any with them.

When we got to our stop, the train conductor approached us and was like, “Doi Khun Tan.” We took this as a sign to get off. The lady at the park headquarters information booth said that the hike would take about three to four hours to get up and back. We arrived around noon and our returning train was scheduled to depart at 6:30, so we would have plenty of time to make it up and back.

The climb was steep, with the first portion of it all stairs. When we reached one of the rest areas, we stopped for our first set bun break. I had the vanilla custard one and Karen had the custard cream one, although they both tasted the same—too sweet filling inside a decently unstale bun. We continued our hike, passing beautifully tall bamboo trees and a couple of stray dogs that barked at us. We stopped for our next bun break. This time we shared a red bean one. It tasted like the others, except maybe a little more substantial.

Since it was nearing four o’clock and we still hadn’t reached the summit yet, we decided to turn back down the mountain only maybe a kilometer from the top. We looped our way back down the mountain, taking a route different from the one that took us up. It was slippery and steep. I slid down some rocks and got my right foot wet as I tried to cross a stream. This hike was a lot tougher and longer than the guidebook, the map, and the lady at the info booth made it seem, and we started to wonder if we were lost.

Karen was famished and had our last bun, the taro filled one. I had none of it, although I’m sure it probably tasted quite similar to the three previous ones. I was trying to figure out what we would do if we got stuck on the mountainside with only a bag of salmon flavored Lays potato chips and half a bottle of water. How would we be able to fashion a mosquito-proof tent out of our rain jackets? I’d never seen McGyver in a Thai jungle.

As the sun was making its way into the horizon and taking away some of the heat of the day, we were wondering how much further we had to go until we reached the park headquarters again. We hadn’t seen anyone, except for the one man with the stray dogs, on the mountain and we were concerned about who knew we were on this mountain. Did anyone know? Would anyone send out a search party?

We continued our hike down, and I began to hear noise of civilization, namely the sound of cars in the distance. We were getting close. And, finally, we reached park headquarters again, to the surprise of the group of Thai people there. They all looked as if they had no idea where we had emerged from; it didn’t seem like too many people hiked up that mountain. We made our way back to the train station, covered in dirt, sweat, and mosquito repellent. I was exhausted and sat with my shoes and socks off eating those salmon flavored Lays waiting for our train to take us back to Chiang Mai.