Lost in Soppong

  Soppong, Thailand
Saturday, October 14, 2006

We're staying at a place called the Cave Lodge run by a very interesting Australian named John and his Shan wife, Nung. The Shan are one type of people who live in Thailand. The lodge is right on the river, surrounded by trees, and exactly what we dreamed our nature getaway to look like. The first day, we relaxed on their huge wooden deck and read bits of John's new book which talks about his 28 years in Thailand. It was incredibly interesting, ranging from the geology of the area to the death of a guest in bungalow 11.

We walk to a nearby cave. A part of the river runs through the cave, and since it's the tail end of rainy season, the water is high enough to require bamboo rafts to get inside. The cave has no lights, so we have a guide who carries a big lantern. She doesn't speak English but she smiles often and points at interesting formations. It's beautiful, but unfortunately, we can only enter the first part of the cave. The next two parts are inaccessible because of the fast water. We hike around to the back part of the cave to watch the evening exit of tons of swifts that blacken the sky.




The next day, armed with John's hand-drawn map, we head off on a trek to a nearby ridge which has views of the valley. The first part requires us to cross a rice paddy to a single trail. Easy enough. We reach the rice paddy and wade through it, and see no signs of a trail. Luckily there is a local woman and child in the field. I ask them with gestures how to go up. She gives me answers in gestures also, but eventually they both lead us up to the trail. We thank them, confident we can do the rest, and they head back to the field. We go up and up, up some more. We begin to see views of the valley. We pass water buffalo wallows, and I wonder how those big animals can get up these steep climbs. Up again, and we run into a lone man, in flip flops and carrying a shotgun. In broken English he asks us where we're going, and then ends the conversation by saying "Thank you." He's the last person we see on the hike.



The trail begins to split and split again, and eventually we have to admit that we're lost. I'm comforted by the fact that we're on a trail, and trails lead to somewhere, wherever that is. It's getting late so we have to make our way back. The surroundings look unfamiliar at every turn, and it's raining, so our footsteps have been washed away. The wet map is becoming an inky blob. Matt sees a strange antelope looking animal. Sticking to a trail, we head west, towards the setting sun. The trail starts to go down, which is where we want to go. We hear water and hope it's the river. The trail disappears and we slide down muddy hills and find a stream. We've watched enough Discovery Channel to know that streams lead to rivers and when you're lost, you should follow the water. The stream is rocky and the bank is steep. The sunlight is fading very quickly and we try to move quickly, slipping on rocks, grasping branches and roots, and fighting off spiderwebs. It seems like the stream goes on forever and I'm starting to get afraid, despite earlier telling myself that it would be character-building to spend one night out in the jungle. Finally we reach the river, and it's an incredibly welcome sight. Now we have to decide which way the lodge is, upstream or downstream? It must be our lucky day because upstream, we see familiar bends in the bank. It's the lodge. Relieved, we cross the river, which is harder than it looks because the current is quite strong. I'm tired and feel my legs slipping out from under me. The water is only waist deep, but I call out to Matt to hold my hand.

We climb the hill to our bungalow, shower away the mud and aches, and try to look nonchalant as we walk up to the main deck. Nung is clearly relieved to see us and John tells us he would have waited til morning to send a search party. We chat and laugh over mugs of hot cocoa, and John tells us our bungalow used to be bungalow 11. What a day.