Thailand: Pai - Dirt Diving, broken and in the hurt locker

Testing the depth of a water crossing before diving in is always a smart play

A rest day when you’re out riding multi day trails is supposed to be just as it sounds. You rest up, you let the body heal from the rigors of the trail and the abuse you have thrown it over the last couple of days.  But having a full day off to me when I had a perfectly good steed sitting idle downstairs outside my hotel room was akin to a child in a candy shop saying you can look but you can’t touch. Needless to say, that never works out and so goes the start of this story. This big kid at heart after a lazy morning walking around Pai and picking up nice clean laundry was simply chomping at the bit to go out and explore. Just the mere mention I wanted to go for a ride was all the convincing P’lah and Grace needed to offer to show me around on some single trails. Red was more in the mood for a facial and a pedicure so we left him behind to do what Red does best.

The view of my fallen steed from the side of the trail. This picture shows you how steep the terrain is.

Roaring out of town with the wind in the face and the rice fields zipping past is an amazing feeling, it’s one of freedom and unique special zing on life all rolled into one. Turning off the black stuff and onto the dirt it wasn’t long before we hit our first obstacle, a water crossing that looked way too deep. Sure enough when Grace got off the bike and probed the depth, the running water revealed that it indeed wasn’t going to be an option. Looking down stream I saw an alternative route, we crossed without fanfare and proceeded onwards only to be stopped by the next river crossing a mere 200m up the track. The force of the recent flooding rains had washed away the trail and there was no way around it. I guess that waterfall was going to have to wait. Crestfallen and halted in out tracks, we sat there for a minute or two pondering our next move. P’Lah suggested a back trail to a small Hot Springs up in the mountains that he knew about. It was somewhere he had not been for a while so didn’t know the state of the trail but that didn’t matter to me. This was exploring and the exact shit I came here to do. To go off the beaten track and go where no tourist had been before - Hell yes, I was in boots and all

Thats the view of the bike looking down from the trail, i ended up about another 70m further down that mountain .

Back tracking a little we turned off the road on a small indistinct track and kicked off our adventure. If you didn’t know this trail was there you would never have found it. This trail got narrower and gnarlier the further we went into it. At one point I couldn’t even see the trail because it was so overgrown, and I narrowly missed some seriously deep wash outs through just pure luck. The trail then merged deep into the jungle and became rougher and more technical. I was hanging on for grim death and doing everything in my powers to keep up with  P’Lah follow his line and stay on the trail. How he did it so effortless was poetry in motion to me and if I am honest deep, I knew I was out of my depth., but man was i having fun.
Before I knew it, we were jumping up and down creek embankments and more or less rock hopping up a creek. The bike was bucking like a crazed horse, and I was doing everything I could possibly do just to stay upright and on it. The deeper we got into the jungle the tougher the riding got at one point we cut what was clearly and old disused road that was heavily rutted by the rain and when we turned onto it, I was almost relieved thinking the going would improve. However, that relief was short lived. Whilst it wasn’t single track the steep incline up and the huge washouts made it by far the toughest trail I’d been on.

Reflecting briefly on the fact i had not eaten dirt today, I was somewhat amazed and was probably feeling a little too cocky. Sure enough barely minutes later I came up over a washout a little too quickly to be greeted by a tree stump that had long ago been cut of to about 40cm off the ground. I had enough time to register the hazard, swerve a fraction to alter the trajectory of the front wheel to glance off it but I clipped the brake lever, and this careened me down a 2m wash out to skid to a halt at the bottom. Somehow, I managed to stay on the steed, but I was stuck good and proper in this washout.

As I am rolling down the mountain i’m thinking this is going to hurt !!!

Begrudgingly accepting help and knowing it was going to cost me a beer later, I could almost feel the ribbing I was going to get. Grace commented “at least you didn’t come off”, helped drag my front wheel around and pointed me in the direction I should take. Taking off again I managed to claw my way out of the hole, gained some traction and kept going.  Now normally at this point I’d stop and let P’Lah get on his bike and lead the way. But this time whether it was the frustration of coming unstuck or the fact I just wanted to keep the momentum going and not wash out I opted to push on. I’d driven past P’Lah maybe 50m, started to negotiate a bend on the high side of the trail, overcorrected for a bit of rear wheel loss of traction. I put my foot out to balance myself only to find air. The bike tilted too far over, and I knew I’d fucked up instantly. Bailing out to get away from the bike I was left with no place to go but down.

Dirt napping in style, no point doing anything half arsed

My desperate leap was all wrong. What unfolded next was truly what I thought was the end. Momentum had me sailing off a mountain crumpling in a heap several metres below. Here’s where it got really hairy. I was rolling down this mountain with such pace that I couldn’t stop. All I could see was flashes of blue sky and green foliage. I literally closed my eyes when my head hit something the first time with a sickening thud. I was still rolling, and I shit you not this was actually what went through my mind as I was rolling…. Fuck this is going to hurt when I hit something. Do I go floppy to slow my descent, or do I curl up into a ball to protect the vitals?  This wasn’t in the training manual, I’m going to break bones, it’s going to hurt. I wonder if a helicopter can get me out of here?  Do they even have helicopter rescue? Whack, I hit my head again, fuck I’m freefalling, thump as I hit the ground I’m still rolling, still alive, fuck this is going to hurt, when will it stop. Fuck it, floppy it is! I’m getting thrown around like a rag doll now, nothing seems to be slowing me down. Then suddenly I come to a screeching halt. I’m dazed, looking up at the clouds. I dare not move, I can hear Grace crying out to me desperate to see if I’m alive and I can hear P’Lah coming down the mountain like a freight train. I want to shout out I’m okay but there is no breath in me. I raise my right hand and give them a thumbs up and feebly mumble I’m ok to the gods of the mountain

The Pained look tells it all, i’m spent after my climb out and little dirt dive and now i’m wondering how the hell we are going to recover the bike

Moments later P’Lah arrives, I’m in a shit state of disorientation and try to communicate I’m ok. He’s tries to take my helmet off; I weakly wave him away. He’s staring down at me, there’s a look of serious concern and I see for the first time he’s not smiling, shit. P’lah always smiles, I must be messed up. I need a moment to gather myself. I stare up at the clouds and clarity slowly returns to my mind. “Holy fuck, I’m alive” I mumble. “Give me a minute mate “I’ve got to do a secondary survey for injuries” my Nursing skills kick in.  I can move my limbs, thank fuck for that. My left thumb is painful, I can move it – not broken I dismiss it. Taking in a few big lungful’s I can feel sharp pains in my ribs. Might of have broken them there, I palpate my neck and there is no pain of significance, for the love of God I think I’m ok. Still wedged in the narrowed gully I thank my lucky stars. P’Lah and Grace help me up and I look down, the next stop on this roller coaster was another fall of about a 3 metre drop onto a log.  If it was not for my fat boy size I’d have probably kept on rolling. I guess having a few pounds extra girth has saved my bacon this time. 
Looking up the mountain I can’t see the trail; all I can see is the path of destruction I’ve made through the foliage as I tumbled down the mountain. The incline is so steep that I have to near on climb out, go hand over hand and find footholds so I don’t slide down anymore. The climb out was pure agony, every movement clawed at my back and ribs, hot sharp jabbing pains racked my body and my nerve endings let me know that they were not happy campers. It took me about 40 minutes to climb up the 70 to 80 metres or so I’d rolled. When I got near the top, I saw my fallen steed. It had slide down the mountain about 15 metres coming to rest against the only sapling on that area of the mountain. I guess the bike was luckier than me.

Recovering the fallen steed, it took a fair effort for 4 of us to put her out of her resting place. Definitely glad that sapling stopped its fall

finally making it I flopped down on the trail I was exhausted; I didn’t have anything left in the tank. I was physically and emotionally drained, the adrenaline had long ago worn off and the pain was letting me know I was in the hurt locker.
P’lah dialled up a friend for rescue and he arrived a good 40 minutes later to help with recovery of the bike. which was a feat in itself, which basically constituted Skull dragging this bike up the side of a near vertical mountain by its front forks. After a solid battle the mountain yielded and gave up the bike. Now it was time to retreat.

The only way off this mountain was to ride off, the pain killers I’d taken had reduced my pain to a dull roar, but I was physically exhausted.  I no sooner went about 300m before I feel off again, I just sat there drained, looking at my fallen steed and nearly curled up in a ball and rung the bell to make the “bad mountain” go away. The mountain had broken me. P’Lah offered to help ride my steed out and I accepted So shuffled painfully and slowly up the mountain for a half an hour or so. Cresting the mountain in a pissed off tired mood, I was eventually reunited with my steed. I tell you what riding down that mountain I stuck to P’Lah like glue and never once slipped off my line because I knew if I did, I wasn’t going to be able to recover.
We eventually made it home after dark. Red came out to sledge us about being late, looking all fresh and clean from his manscaping. He took one look at the shit state I was in and knowingly dropped the sledging for another time and offered his help.
The mountain won that battle, I never did get to see the waterfall or soak in the hot springs. Whilst I’m still recovering from those injuries 6 weeks after the fall, I know I’ll be back to pay homage to the mountain and maybe just maybe she’ll forgive me for being a cocky bugger and reveal all her glory.

Bruised and battered, don’t skimp on body Armor I really believe it saved me from serious Injury after rolling 80m down the mountain. The mountain won this round, but I’ll be back for round 2,