Backpacking in Huai Nam Dang National Park and visiting Pai, Thailand

Day 282: We woke up in a small bungalow on the edge of Pai, Thailand. We spent the previous two nights sleeping in our tent in Huai Nam Dang National Park exploring the western boundary on mostly abandoned trails that followed serpentine ridges; climbing steadily from lush banyan tree and vine filled riparian valleys to a mix of surprisingly dry dipterocarp and two and three needle pine forest.

Our bungalow in Pai, Thailand after our hike

Solitude at last.

Unbeknownst to us Pai has become a haven for youthful backpackers looking for a good time or a "spiritual" retreat in the jungle. As soon as we deboarded the minivan that carried us on the four hour and slightly nauseating mountainous drive from Chiang Mai we were accosted by people selling "tipsy tubing" trips down tropical rivers or enticing us to buy a drink in their open-air bar. We've never walked out of a town faster. A quick two mile powerwalk brought us to a trail that my map indicated would bring us deep into the park. The only catch, the trail was now used for short day hikes and abandoned after a few miles. After reaching the “end” of the Ban Tung Pong East Trail just over two miles into the jungle we had escaped the hordes of lost hippies and European youth that clogged the streets of Pai. The trail faded in and out and continued to ford a small river numerous times but years of cross-country backpacking has made following faint trails second nature; by recognizing broken twigs, logs worn by years of infrequent footwalls, displaced leaves, gently trampled grass, noticing the mud on top of a stone near river crossings from wet shoes, and all the other the traces we unconsciously leave behind.

For the next two days we experienced the forest on its own terms, sleeping on the high, dry ridges and returning to the valley for water. The forest is deceiving here, at times it reminds me of an early fall day in the Appalachians in New York, dry leaves crunching beneath our feet, or perhaps a forested mid-elevation ridge in Arizona or New Mexico, with the radiant heat and pines, but as one descends further, into the deepest and darkest valleys the truth becomes inescapable. I am in Thailand. Evergreen forest surrounds us, trees grow like elephant trunks, emergent and sinuous, the air is thicker, sweat beads on my brow as I ford a river again and again. This is the Thailand I imagined.

Moving slowly, we listened to the ever changing birdsong and tried, and failed, to identify various flowering and fruiting trees. It was our own personal retreat, with hot sunny days and relatively cool and clear nights, allowing us to sleep in our tent’s mesh insert and enjoy the stars and the light breeze. We only met one person, Jan, German born but half Vietnamese and half Polish, another visitor here in Thailand in the middle of his own wilderness journey, on our hike out before connecting to the busy and popular Mae Yen Waterfall Trail. A wonderful hike in its own right, the trail fords a river dozens of times while winding through an intimate valley, it was clear why it drew the crowds it did. But we left with the knowledge that a five minute walk beyond the falls brought the solitude and wilderness escape we had been hoping for after the noisy, smog filled cities of Bangkok and Chiang Mai.

Mae Yen Waterfall

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