Tiger2 Earns its Stripes

Making full use of our GT-rider dirt trail map, we have planned an exciting day, putting the new bike to the ultimate test. We know it handles Tarmac, gravel and potholes, but will it handle dirt trails, 2up and fully loaded? It’s January 15th and after a restful stayover in Pai, it’s time to move on.

Even at 10am the mist and clouds are really low and its a bit chilly, so we dress in thermals, arm sleeves, neck scarves and socks. Ready to take on the cold and damp. Shortly after leaving Pai the road rises steeply above the mist and it’s stinking hot. We stop at a roadside stall to strip, re-load the bike and have a coffee. The road is still tarmac and sweeps along pleasantly as it curves and climbs. Then it disappears. This is what we wanted: 22kms of dirt track in the mountains in the ever changing scenery. Banana trees and papyrus grasses give way to bamboo forests, then blue-gum trees and at the highest level some dry-pines, all intermingled with the tallest trees and the biggest leaves we have ever seen. Through gaps in the vegetation we catch glimpses of layers and layers of mountains fading away into the hazy blueness like a visual echo. It is spellbinding stuff. The bike just eats up the trail, with B at the ready to bounce, hop, skip and jump the ruts and the grooves in his unique style. Feet and legs flying and me hanging on. “Watch out for Tigers,” he yells. “We’re on one,” I yell back. And so Tiger2 gets its name.

Midday, the heat is intense and increases with the hard work we are doing just to stay on the bike, its time for shedding more layers and stopping for a coca cola break. As luck would have it there is a small village right there as we come hurtling around the corner. Whew. We climb off, straighten up, shake down and I jiggle my way through a very crowded hut filled with 20 or more guys all dressed in full motorcross gear, eating noodles. As I wiggle through,” ‘scuse me, ‘scuse me,” a very handsome chap in impeccable English offers to do any translations that we might require. “I would like to buy a coca cola please”, I said. In perfect Thai he asked for a “coca cola”. I complimented him on his English and my new best friend introduced himself (Nop) and his team of Dirt Bike Riders from Pai.

Naturally he asked where I was going , I showed him the map and he shook his head disapprovingly. “Too dangerous, many drug carriers and at war with the government and army. Not possible on a scooter”, he said. He hadn’t met B and thought I was a girl on my own on a scooter. I called B over from where he was round the corner (having a fag!!!) and all became clear. Nop checked the bike and tyres. Tick. He checked the map with B. Tick. He confirmed that at the next junction we keep Right. Tick. So with Nop’s approval we finished our coca cola, and a wave from a Jonny Depp look alike in a Pirates of the Caribbean bandana we start the last 25kms of the trail.

The steepest section required 2nd gear at 20kms/hr and on the straights, eezy-peezy. B is a stickler for maintenance and we stopped a few more times to oil the chain and wind up the shocks. The dirt trail riding style that B has developed gave him the reputation of being the ‘untidiest’ Enduro rider in his competition days. He flings his leg to one side which moves the centre of gravity of the bike to the opposing side, and visa versa, controlling and aiming the bike through the many ruts and grooves that confront us. Another advantage is that B does most of his enduro riding sitting down, rather than standing, thus conserving energy. It was exhilarating.

The trusty sliced bread and peanut butter sandwiches filled a hole in our tummies and 4 hours later we had completed the 74kms from Pai to Kong Lom and up to Lak Taeng on the Thai-Burma border, with 50kms being dirt trail-riding.

We normally start looking for accommodation at about 4pm and it was only 2pm, much too early to stop for the night. After a short stop and chat to a guy from Denmark on his rented Honda 650, we head South, pass Wiang Haeng and cross another amazing mountain range, highest altitude on the road about 1300 m, 80 kms away. It took 3 hours, with Tiger2 reaching 115kms on the tarmac straights.

Knowing the sun sets very quickly from 5pm onwards we started to get a bit anxious about lodgings but there had been no recognisable signs for rooms/hotels on the big roads and then there was a big blue tourist sign advertising Ping Khong Resort, in English. Turn Right Now. It’s a concrete strip between fields of maize plantations. After 5 kms we are feeling a bit uneasy about finding a resort on this route so we return back to the sign. There no indication of distance and no mention on google maps of a resort so we just park up, dismount and stand under the sign. Sure enough as the sun sets, a smartly dressed man in a pick-up stops and asks if he can help. He assures us that the resort is open and about 10kms down the strip road. Take Two. Sure enough, there it is. Absolutely stunning in the setting sun, a charming set of bungalows, with pretty broken-tile mosaic flooring, lace tablecloths, wicker armchairs all alongside a gently flowing river and soothing music wafting on subtle speakers. After such an energetic adventure filled day, this was heaven. The price was way over budget, but worth it. We had a delicious TomYum soup and rice supper brought to us on a flaming bowl on a bamboo deck over the river. In the middle of the night the temperature dropped and we woke up shivering, the light cotton quilt rather inadequate. B gallantly wanders outside in his sarong, wakes up the staff sleeping at reception, and the lovely fluffy friendly dog who starts barking, and possibly a few other guests in his search for a blanket. Mission accomplished, peace reigns again and warm again we slumber on. This little piece of heaven has rice soup with pork meatballs included in the price for breakfast, different, but needs must. During breakfast we were entertained by some local workers who were hand-building another bamboo deck and walkway on the other side of the river. Chopping, hammering and tying with twine. Not a powertool in sight. These people are incredibly resourceful and ingenious using the natural materials that surround them to create beautiful and functional things. We pack up, oil the chain, take photos, wave goodbye and continue down the concrete track in amongst the corn crop, getting to a T-junction on the 107 heading north shortly after 11am.

A wonderful 24 hours to be remembered forever. The GPX Racing Legend 200 has become our Tiger2.