The One Vagabond Headed South

Its been exactly one year, four months, and fifteen days since I returned to the United States... just about long enough to warrant another adventure abroad; but this time things are about to get crazy - I'm bringing my mom!

Kalyn saving the world!

The two of us are traveling to Central America to meet up with my little Humboldt grad hippie sister who's been saving the world building schools out of trash and milking organic cows! Our excursion will begin in Nicaragua, head south to Costa Rica, and then once Kalyn and I say "adios" to Mom (sadly, she has to go home after a week), we will be flying by the seat of our pants!

So, some of you might be wondering, what the heck has been keeping me in one place for so long? Not such a simple question to answer but here are the highlights:

Upon returning to California, I fell back into my decade-long "backup" job at daycare. "Backup" because although daycare aide is not a career, I haven't been able to go longer than a few months without feeling a physical need to get back to Desi's Daycare and immerse myself in the fantastic and wild world of toddlers, diapers, crafts, and trips to the park!

I also almost immediately began volunteering as a coach of the PV Ski and Snowboard team, ironic because I was a Chico High grad (very big cross-town rivals for those of you not familiar with Chico) and raced for the Chico High team. But in the name of promoting good sportsmanship and stepping outside my comfort zone, I donned blue and white for the first time in my life and helped coach the girls snowboard team to their highest finish at States in the history of the program.

During ski season I met up with a my old snowboard coach who hooked me up with an "in" with Odyssey Teams Inc., one of the leading teambuilding companies in the world. I felt honored to be among some of the most passionate and sincere motivators during rope course challenges, teambuilding events, and philanthropic workshops. To make things even more amazing, I was selected to be a counselor at Camp Royal, a week-long summer leadership camp for high school Juniors. At camp I experienced one life-changing enlightenment after another and formed friendships with my "girls", co-counselors, and Odyssey staff that will last a lifetime.

Rockin' the 80's jacket with ski team

Seven of the most inspiring young campers
 I've had the pleasure of knowing!

Within 24 hours of camp ending, I was on a plane flying to Boulder Colorado for staff training for yet another camp - Bold Earth Adventures. Staff training included very technical instruction on things like making pancakes "leader style" (i.e. having someone stand on the ground while a leader stands on the roof of a 15-passenger van pouring ingredients into a bowl 10-12 feet below), earthquake alarms (shaking camper's tents vigorously while shouting "EARTHQUAKE!!!!") and playing an outrageous number of rounds of the game "Ninja". Training prepared me for a summer of fun in the sun with 13 campers and three AWESOME co-leaders in Hawaii where I slept in a tent (or on the van roof) for 42 nights in between days filled with volcano exploration, surfing, kayaking, mountain biking, hiking, snorkeling, and learning to play the ukulele!

My tough and muddy rugby girls!

After an amazing first summer with Bold Earth, I jetted back to California to referee field hockey, practice my new uke skills at daycare, and startup the first-ever Under-19 Girls Rugby team in Chico! I teamed up with the newly formed Chico Rugby Foundation and my assistant coach Denita and we somehow managed to get a motley group of girls from five different schools together to learn and play rugby. We won our very first "friendly" game, and then got absolutely destroyed a few times on the pitch before finding our footing and battling our way to an epic end of the season - a thrilling and unexpected win over a more experienced and established team!

The rugby season culminated just this past weekend with Chico hosting the inaugural Wild Things Rugby Tournament - the first and only tournament of its kind in California to have high school girls in costume playing both Union and Sevens rugby! As tournament Director, I felt that the day was insanely fun for all involved and wildly successful to boot! To unwind from the tournament and get my adventure on before heading out of the country, Katie and I headed to Table Mountain for a mountain biking expedition that was one of the most epic days i've had since being home (hence, worth mentioning in my year and a half recap)!

Last State-side adventure with Katie!

Well, hope you are all now on the edge of your seats because Central America is going to be EPIC!

The Last One!

In a year and a half never would I have imagined that I would be so changed by the people, places, and experiences I encountered as I trekked from Japan to the Land Down Under and then finally, through South East Asia. Heck, even arriving home was an adventure!

Reflecting wholeheartedly on such an incredible once-in-a-lifetime journey requires a certain ability to appreciate even the smallest gestures of goodwill, to remember the seemingly insignificant events that created the ‘whole picture’, and to cherish the new friendships that in many cases, will last a lifetime.

I can honestly say that my odyssey abroad made me a better, happier, and more grateful person.

In my last blog entry for this particular episode of wanderlust, I want to take this opportunity to thank everyone who’s either been with me in the thick of things or followed my journey via the delightful World Wide Web! From the sensory overload of Japan to the mystical beauty of New Zealand and throughout the exotic encounters of SE Asia, I want to thank you all from the bottom of my heart for being with me, every step of the way – it means more to me than you will ever know.

Although I could write a thousand personal thank-you’s to everyone, there are a few people around the world that I would like to give a few special shout-outs to:

Japan

The Best family: My journey began with you and I am so grateful that it did. Thank you for creating such a wonderful opportunity for young people to experience and embrace a different culture other than their own, I really hope to make it back to camp one day!

Taka: If I could adopt you I would (even though we’re the same age)! Your smile brightened up all those rainy days at camp. I aspire to live life with the selfless passion you show in everything you do.

My Co-Counselors (Mimi, Kaitlin, David, Carlos, Eric, and Alli): Throwing seven strangers together in the chaos of a foreign country couldn’t have been more amazing. Thanks for making camp one of the highlights of my life! Karaoke reunion? I think so!

Australia

Brent, Ronelle, and John (Desi’s cousins): I’ve never been shown such wonderful hospitality. Thanks for welcoming me with open arms into your homes; my challenging transition from NZ to Asia couldn’t have been more enjoyable!

Gordon Rugby Club: For a crazy fun night out that I don’t really remember.

Andi and Lilly: All-Blacks vs Wallabies = most amazing sporting event of my life, thanks heaps for the tickets!

New Zealand

Queenstown

Stew Greig: for being my first friend in town and showing/forcing me to learn how to mountain bike!

Adam & Gary: Best roomies a girl could ask for, even if you both did drink all my beer =)

Tommy: for being you.

The Morrison Family (ALMOST): because you held down how cool Americans really can be… congrats on the new addition!

Hels and Mayu: Going crazy fast down mountains was so much more fun with you ladies and I learned how to make sushi!!!

Alissa ‘Sis’: Beautiful, talented, AND can ride like the boys? Thanks for the friendship and smiles!

Dugald: Thanks for not breaking up with me after A-town pee’d in your bed ;)

Nikki, Steph, Fay, and the ‘gay ski crew’: I will never look at a ski season the same after a winter with you badass ladies!

The PLP: For helping me GET EXCITED! for each and every day from the moment I met all of you. May you always be champions of not taking life so seriously and being a kid again!

Mia: You are my INSPIRATION to live life to its fullest and to take every challenge head-on. I can’t wait to cheer for you at the 2014 Paralympics!

Alli: the meanest Maori in town and the most sincere and beautiful person I’ve met in my life. Thanks for the positive encouragement and friendship!

Keri: Painting, photo shoots, cooking, missions, drums, movie nights, skiing…we did it all! You were the finishing piece of the puzzle that MADE New Zealand the trip of a lifetime. “Tēnā rāwā atu koe”

South Island

The East Coast Americans of Cromwell: I am blessed to call you all my new rugby sisters (even if you let f*cking DAVIS beat you at nationals)!

Mis Amigos de Suramerica: Gracias for some great times in Christchurch!

Jen and Nat: In a time that I really needed a friend, I got two. Although our time together was short-lived, our connection was undeniable and I hope it lasts a lifetime!

Andre and Rikki (and Taz):  Oh Girls! Thank you for taking me under your wing and sharing your beautiful Maori heritage with me. Our late night chats were some the most cherished conversations I’ve had!

North Island

Alex Lines: It was so nice to see a familiar face up North! Thanks for the extended hospitality and incredibly fun mt. bike mish in Windy Welly! 

Nicky White: Glad to put it all behind us and focus on what an amazing journey we shared together.

Nicole Lilburn: Erupt Festival was a remarkable experience and a brilliant learning opportunity –thanks!

Caro and ‘The Girls’: Who knew that ridiculous sleeping mat would create such a lasting friendship?

Sharlene: I am so happy to have met you! Thanks for having me and PLEASE let me know if you’re ever back Stateside!

The Evans Family: Thanks for the Earthlings enlightenment and YUMMY veg food!

Spencer & Brianna: So amazing to have a part of Chico show up all the way in New Zealand! Spenc, awesome to have met you, Bri – marry that man!

Vic and the AUCC: Ask me a year ago if I would’ve ever paddled whitewater in a hardshell kayak and I would’ve said “YOU ARE CRAZY!”, but with you guys it was the time of my life! If only I could record Big Red and that ridiculous didgeridoo…

Malaysia

Chris and Elly: We were %100 destined to be friends. I can’t wait for our next adventure!

Llouis and Guilliem: I’m glad I finally figured out you weren’t actually speaking Spanish! Thanks for putting up with my bus outbursts and for the awesome three weeks together!

Thailand & Laos

Mandy & the “Colorado Boys”: Thanks for helping me face the wall. You have sparked a passion in me that I hope to continue with until this body gives out!

The BHC: I would need a book to thank you guys for the great and absolutely epic times!

Cambodia

Sarah, Maria and Court: I couldn’t have asked for three more incredible people to end my journey with. For all the “last nights” and to many more!

Home

To my fantastic family and friends: THANK YOU for reading my blog and for all the wonderful feedback! Sharing my experiences with everyone at home was both a delight and an honor. I’ve always had an interest in writing and am so grateful that so many of you enjoyed my stories! I love you all and am so happy to be back home so I can share my experiences with you first-hand!

The One Late Entry That I Couldn't Post in Communist China

Different is a word that does not quite do Cambodia justice. The streets are somehow more chaotic than those found in neighboring countries, food menu's boast specials such as 'fried cow's intestine' and 'sweet and sour river snake', the local markets are a labyrinth of stalls and smells, and the people here are some of the most beautiful kind souls i've ever come across. Gone are the mega shopping centers of Malaysia, the carefree almost excruciatingly slow pace of life in Laos, and goodbye sappy Thai music... Cambodia is a place of its own.

 32 hours spent playing musical chairs with buses was a small price to pay to get to this third-world-country. Once I arrived in Siem Reap, two new travel mates richer, I was ecstatic to explore. Without intending to, I had arrived in the second largest Cambodian city during nationally-celebrated Water Festival. The weekend also happens to be the busiest two days of the year in Siem Reap - go figure. Food stalls lined the streets selling anything from hot-dogs to beetles. Massive floating shrines dotted the shoreline of the river running through the center of town. Tuk tuk drivers and stall owners sold their services and goods with unabashed screams and swindling. All the hustle and bustle was a bit overwhelming until I caught sight of the boats on the river. I was thrilled to be a spectator of sports again and immediately began discussing with my new mate Maria the tactics involved in boat racing with nearly twenty people having to paddle in unison.

After a day of being nearly overwhelmed by the festival activities, I finally got a phone call through to my Kiwi mate Keri who was in town with her student excursion group from Australia. I was thrilled to see Keri and almost surprised to actually hear her accent; after a year in New Zealand I had stopped noticing the strange vowels and incomprehensible slang.With Keri technically working we couldn't visit long but made plans to try and meet up the next day at the Angkor Wat temples. Maria, Sarah, and myself rented bikes for $1 and rode through the sweltering heat, despite the early morning hour, to the famous temples.

When Angkor Wat actually came into view, so did the thousands of tourists all heading inside. The girls and myself decided to head to some of the further temples to avoid the crowds. Riding past elephants and monks, we arrived at a large temple with far fewer people milling around. As I walked up the steps I ran into a few kids from Keri's group and was surprised to find Keri so quickly amongst the dozens of temples and thousands of people in the area. We posed for a few pictures, both took note of how impressed we were by the beauty of the ancient temples, and then had to go separate ways. I met back up with Maria and Sarah and the three of us spent the better part of 9 hours riding from one stunning temple to the next. After a death-defying bike ride home through Cambodian traffic, we arrived at our hostel exhausted but feeling grateful for the day's experience.

The rest of Siem Reap passed in a blur of daily excursions and relaxed evenings. As we were making our plans to leave the city news spread that a massive stampede had happened in nearby Phnom Penh and that hundreds had tragically lost their lives. I immediately became aware of the somber faces around me and even the tears being shed by locals watching the news. By nightfall, as I was leaving the city, nearly every home had made an offering to the spirits of those lost. Throughout Cambodia, hundreds of thousands of candles burned beautifully through the night.

After a near-sleepless and very motion-sick night on a bus, the girls and I dragged ourselves into a tuk-tuk just as the sun was rising in the beach-side city of Saukville. A water-polo playing Canadian girl joined our trio and the four of us found a beach-side resort to spend the next few days relaxing at. Hearing about the bitter cold taking over home was surreal as I lay out in the hot sun sweating and tanning! Initially planning on heading to Phnom Penh to visit the historical war sites, i've been enjoying myself too much on the beach to drag myself inland, so the educational tour will have to wait another week or so.

-Ash

The One Crazy River Day

I’ve had a lot of ‘this is probably a bad idea’ moments throughout my adventures in the past year and half; but as I stood at the top of a two story platform looking into the (possibly shallow?) river below me, I knew this was definitely a bad idea… and then Matt, a blond-haired American with FRAT spray-painted in giant hot-pink letters on his chest, smiled at me, chugged the rest of his beer, and said, “See ya.” just before leaping backwards off the platform. His back layout arched perfectly before he rotated and landed feet first in the quick moving water below. Well, I thought, if steroid-induced Frat Boy can backflip off this thing, I sure as hell can jump! And with that, I launched myself into the air. The water felt more like concrete as I hit before I sank farther down than I thought possible. Kicking my way to the surface, I gulped a breath of air before letting out a cowgirl-esque YEEEHAWWW!

We had progressed about 200 meters downriver and already the chaos of tubing the Vang Vien River had surpassed any labor day weekend spent on Beer Can Beach.

Our trip to Vang Vien Laos had started out ominously enough.  Leaving Thailand involved a you-gotta-try-it-once-in-your-life slowboat “cruise” into Laos. The slowboat was really just a glorified canoe that was supposed to hold 80 passengers but (in true SE Asia fashion), the boat crew had loaded well over 120 of us onboard. The only space left once we were suckered onboard was an area designated for luggage. The six members of the Baby Hand Cannibal gang (a biker gang formed during a whirlwind motorcycle trip to the small mountain village of Pai), including myself, claimed a 6X8 foot floor space and set-up our own minibar.  We were soon joined by a few stragglers and proceeded to spend the next 7-hours on the Mekong River playing card games and witnessing the inhuman amount of alcohol our mate Dallas Dean could consume.  After a short overnight stop in some random river village, we were back on the boat, crowded as ever, spending another 9-hours cruising with nothing but drink and card games to entertain ourselves.

Once off the boat, the gang spent two days in the quaint city of Luang Parabang. We got our first taste of Laos food (amazing) and hospitality (delightful). Several of us took a day-trip to the most surreal waterfalls I’ve ever seen. In my haste I forgot my camera, but we did stumble upon a bear sanctuary… random, I know.  With a few of us on short time schedules, we booked a van to Vang Vien; a 5-hour drive away. What they didn’t tell us was that our driver was apparently prepping for his NASCAR career and, despite the worst road conditions ever, happily drove 60-80 mph on a mostly 30mph road whilst passing trucks on blind turns and flying through gravel without any care or concern about fishtailing or hitting the dozens of village children playing along the roadside. With a front-row seat, I didn’t feel embarrassed one-bit when I literally screamed in fear over several close calls. Arriving exhausted from a terrifying trip, we booked into our hostel and got to bed early in preparation for tubing the next day.

Let me paint this picture for you: imagine a typical sized river, nothing too big but quick moving enough to think twice before jumping in, and then picture a half-mile stretch of that river with nearly 20 makeshift bars on the banks complete with blasting sound systems, 30-50 foot waterslides, ziplines, bungy swings, diving platforms, and hundreds of drunk tourists clasping bright yellow tubes. Being a veteran Sac-River tuber, nothing could prepare me for the mayhem on the rivers of Laos.  Our gang, already a few drinks in, waltzed into the first bar with a mixture of shock and terror at what we found. Adrenline-crazed people swinging by their feet before dropping into the water, a waterslide with no rules for which way or how many people could slide at once, beer pong games in full swing, and a toddler walking along the bar collecting money for drinks. So we did what we were expected to and joined in the pandemonium.

By the second bar I found myself happily being tattooed with cans of spray paint and by the third – the platform showdown with Matt the frat boy. We had only traveled 200 meters and three bars, but already several hours had passed. Wanting to keep on keepin’ on, we decided to pass a few bars in favor for actually spending some time tubing;  that is, until we saw the giant sign that read MUD VOLLYBALL. Flailing wildly, our group (that had now grown to a dozen people) managed to haul ourselves toward shore. The mud volleyball game resembled more of a wrestling/falling match as all of us tried, and failed, to stay upright in the mud pit with a solid foot of standing water. Covered in muck from head to toe, I decided the quickest way to clean up would be a cannonball off the bar deck into the water 15 feet below. I landed precariously close to a pod of British tubers who screamed, laughed, and then helped haul me toward the stairs that led back to the bar. At this point the sun had completely disappeared behind the clouds and, waterlogged, I was freezing.

Grabbing tubes and dragging my mates with me, we set off on the river toward a bar downstream with a huge campfire blazing. I had just dried off and warmed up when Connor shouted my name and pointed yet farther downstream. What I saw was the biggest non-theme-park waterslide I’ve ever come across: complete with a kicker at the end that launched people very high and very fast through the air until they slammed, gracefully or not, into the water.

It looked like something out of a Jackass movie. I had to try it!

Not bothering with our tubes, we all took a trail to the bar and the boys and I practically fell over each other as we raced up the 3 flights of stairs to the top of the waterslide tower. Looking down the slide, which was craftily made with big bathroom tiles, I looked back at Connor and told him to go first. I will not acknowledge his foul reply, but my response was a running super-man headfirst dive onto the tiles. I slid for what seemed like forever, my skin smacking through the gaps between tiles faster and faster before WHOOOOOSH!!!! I was FLYING through the air! In my drunken coordination, I tried turning to ham up the camera and my mates watching before I slammed ribs first into the water. Surfacing for air, I was half sure I had been tackled rugby-style somewhere mid-flight. I looked up at the top of the slide, which now seemed even more insanely high from the water, to catch Connor as he flew ass-first through the air over my head and into the water.

We clamored back onto the bar deck to a chorus of yells and high-fives. At some point we decided to slide again and once more, my body flew like Buzz Lightyear before meeting the hard cold water of the river.  On my second slide attempt my hips had sustained bloodied swelling bruises so, with the sunlight fading and my luck pushed to the limits, I called it a day. With all my mates and myself a bit worse for wear, but all stilly happily alive, we tubed the last 50 meters to the nearest take-out point.  It had taken us nearly 7-hours, but we had safely tubed the famous Vang Vien River!

-Ash

Fun Fact: Laos is hands-down the most beautiful place I’ve been since leaving New Zealand. I’m glad to be visiting it while it still holds its third-world charm: I fear a decade from now the place will be as over-run with tourists as Thailand.

The One Day with Rescued Heffalumps

At the turn of the century, Thailand boasted a population of nationally-revered Asian elephants 100,000 strong. By 1990, with the logging industry abolished in Thailand's diminishing rainforests, the elephant population, including of thousands of "working elephants", had fallen to an alarming 5,000. Today, a little over half of that number exists in the wild and in captivity. Alarming? Yes. Moving? Not until you've met some of these incredible creatures.

Arriving in Chiang Mai, visiting an elephant sanctuary was not at the forefront of my plans as a tourist in this thriving city and surrounding rainforests. But, after seeing a brochure for elephant rides -I took one look at a picture of a fat white man riding an elephant, a huge grin on his face, and a menacing sharply hooked cane in his hand, and I had second thoughts. With a recommendation from several friends to visit a small elephant sanctuary outside of the city, I began looking into the tour. At first I balked at the price: $2500 baht for a one-day visit (to give you an idea of how much this costs: meals are about $30 baht and a nights accomodation is around $150, an all-inclusive 3-day jungle trek including an elephant ride was only $1600), by the time I left the Elephant Nature Park, I was wishing I had $25,000 baht just to donate to the place!

Driving out to the park, I became painfully aware of why sanctuaries are needed in Thailand. We passed several elephant camps in which the animals looked overworked, underfed, and stooped with heartbreaking indignation. Pulling into the Elephant Nature Park, we were immediately greeted by a healthy looking 10ft tall bull elephant who had decided the park's driveway was a good place to have a snack from the hanging tree limbs. His mahout (trainer) had to resort to bribes of banana's to get the 6-ton animal to move out of the way.

After unloading from the van, our group was immediately given a safety briefing. I was humourously impressed by the examples of innapropriate (idiotic) behavior the tour guide gave us; it continues to amaze me how stupid people can be, especially in the presence of the worlds biggest and strongest walking animal. With a healthy dose of caution, we were led to the feeding pens where I had my first interaction with the big guys. I was obviously struck by the sheer size of both male and female elephants, but when their trunks wrapped around my hand to pluck the fruit from my grasps, I was shocked by the grainy thick skin and sheer muscular power of even the smallest elephant's trunk. Within minutes I was thouroughly in awe of the majestic nature of these huge creatures.

Next came bathing and a chance to meet an incredible woman who began the park in 1995. The elephants were led to a large and muddy river where they stood patiently as groups of tourists, including myself, hucked buckets of water all over their grey and pink bodies. Not many animals would take kindly to being drenched, but the elephants seemed happy to help us by hoovering water through their trunks before spraying it along their own backsides. Wet, muddy, and feeling overjoyed through my interaction with the gentle giants, I made my way toward the main buidling to washup before lunch. Wandering along a viewing deck, a petite Thai woman greeted me. After asking my name and where I was from, she kindly inquired how I was enjoying my day. Mid sentance I realized who I was talking to: Lek, the Park's founder and director. I almost stopped speaking just to hug the tiny woman, who's name means "little" in Thai. Not wanting to take up the busy woman's time, I told her I was having an incredible day, commended her for her dedicated work, and took her business card in the event I can ever manage to give back to the inspirational sanctuary.

I left Lek to her work, and the rest of the group settled in for a delicious Thai-style lunch. The mood was almost festive as complete strangers joyously talked and interacted, even the dogs were happily about. But it was not to last: shortly after lunch we were shown a documentary about the Park. It focused on the plight of the 34 animals who had been rescued and brought to the park and the incredible odds Lek defied to make the sanctuary a reality. We learned of Hope - a young elephant rescued as an infant after his mother was killed by farmers for wandering into their crops (which were located sheer feet from their encroached natural habitat), Chang Mae -a former working elephant who was blinded after her hours-old baby was left to die and she refused to work, Lilly -who's back was visibly broken in several places from carrying too-heavy tourists on too-heavy riding chairs, and Mae Do a 70-year-old female who because her broken hip (caused by being chained to posts during forced breeding) had been begging on the streets for her owner's profit.

The film was sad but served its purpose of making even the most aloof tourist into an animal rights activist (if only for the day). For me, it was a reminder of the falability of human nature and the inpirational change that can come from the most unlikliest of people and places. With a newfound respect for the elephants we had spent the day with (and the hundreds of employees and volunteers who run the sanctuary), I said my goodbye's to the Park and it's inhabitans before climbing into the waiting van. In the fading sunlight I reflected on my day and the how unexpectedly moved I had been by the experience. My mind wandered to thoughts of Lek and how one woman had risen from poverty to create one of the most successful and inspiring non-profits in the world. That day my world was changed. Lek and her elehpants made me believe that tomorrow, I too could change the world. 

-Ash

http://www.elephantnaturepark.org/

The One Time We Got Lost in Bangkok

'Dis way! Dis way!' the tuk-tuk driver yelled at us as he took a corner going well over the speed limit. The three-wheeled motorcycle squealed with protest as we shifted our weight in the direction the driver motioned and somehow whipped around the corner without overturning.

The other tuk-tuk team.

'This is INSANE!' I screamed.

'We're going to die!' Someone else shouted over the blare of the motor.As we shot between two hot pink Bangkok-style taxis the driver shifted gears and raced ahead to catch up with the tuk-tuk carrying our friends. 'Why did we tell him to race the other driver?'

'Because we want to WIN!!!' I yelled, followed by a half scream that turned into a shrill laugh of panic as we took another corner. 'Go go go!' I encouraged as we made the corner, flying past the other tuk-tuk. The motor noise was deafening, along with the wind blowing past at a bajillion miles and hour. We were on a vehicle that would never pass any street-worthy standards in the western world, and the whole ride was only costing the group two US dollars!

Convinced that another block of racing each other would end badly, I began voicing this concern when we joltingly slowed and pulled into a parking lot. Without hesitation, I rushed to untangle myself from the jumble of arms and legs around me. Finally on my own two feet I looked around and realized we were out in the middle of nowhere. The only other white people around were my friends and the locals were all looking at us strangely. To be fair, we were trying to find a bar across the street from a 7-Eleven, miles from downtwon Bangkok. The only problem is that there are over 5,000 7-Elevens in the city and none of us were too sure that this particular store in front of us was the correct one. Within a kilometer in either direction there were at least eight or nine of the mini marts. So, like all smart tourists, we walked in circles for nearly a half hour before asking for directions.

Waving a small square of paper around with Connor's friend's VERY bad directions written on it, I was able to attract the attention of a lovely young Thai woman who spoke broken English. After reading the paragraph of directions and the two or three words we had gotten translated into Thai, she shrugged, looked up, and mentioned it was going to rain, 'very hard, very soon'. We took note and then stood helplessly as nearly every Thai within earshot took his/her turn in trying to help us figure out where we were trying to go. When it became clear that a) the directions were absolutely useless, and b) it really was going to rain soon, we cautiously followed a middle-aged Thai man into a less than dodgy alley. 

Rain and dark alley lights didn't stop
 this badminton match!

Once in the alley, the man (who had a brilliantly friendly smile, as do most Thai's) proceeded to take a bottle of Thai rum out of his mobile bar and poured the lot of us a round of double-shots. As the shots went down the sky opened up and torrential sheets of rain drenched the sidewalk in front of us. Realizing we were not going anywhere until the storm passed, we settled in to teach the locals a few drinking games. Playing cards turned into playing badminton and before we knew it, the rain had stopped and the contents of the rum bottle were gone. A helpful local insisted we have her brother drive us to where the crew of street vendors and shop keepers had concluded we needed to be. Our group, deciding that things would have already gone bad if the locals meant us any harm, tried to pay the mobile-bar man (he refused to take our money) before piling into a plush 15-seater van.

We drove for some time before the young Thai pulled over in front of a very hip looking bar full of Thai university students. Connor jumped out, surveyed the scene, and announced, 'This is the place!' We enthusiastically cheered, thanked the van driver profusely and stumbled out. Once we began crossing the street Connor admitted, 'Guys, I have no clue where we are or who is inside there, but I felt bad so I told the dude driving us we were at the right place.' At that point I don't think any of us cared!

The taxi ride back to Bangkok

Once inside the bar we were informed that only entire bottles of whiskey or vodka were available for purchase - so we got a few of each. Soon an Australian couple joined our posse and we closed down the place. Anna, one of the Aussies, had been living in the city for some time and suggested she escort us back to our accommodation. We convinced the cabbie to let all seven of us ride together and, crammed in like sardines, we raced back to the city. 

The rest of the evening is a bit foggy. Buckets (take a cocktail and super-size it) were consumed, dancing was done, and I believe I made a few phone calls to the States. By the time we made it back to the hotel, sunlight was streaming through the windows. Yes, the hangover was severe, and no, Connor did not catch me on video praying to the toilet gods (regardless to what he may claim or have evidence of)! It was a highly entertaining, if not slightly irresponsible night, but in the end we were all safe and sound in our beds... if not a bit worse for wear!

Fun Fact: Bangkok is actually just a westernized version of the city's Thai name which is (get ready): Krung Thep Mahanakhon Amon Rattanakosin Mahinthara Ayuthaya Mahadilok Phop Noppharat Ratchathani Burirom Udomratchaniwet Mahasathan Amon Piman Awatan Sathit Sakkathattiya Witsanukam Prasit

The One Where I Engage in Monkey Warfare

Looking 30 meters below me I could only see my mate Connor as he looked up the cliff to check my progress. My feet were pressed between two 25-foot stalactites (think creepy caves) and three chalked fingers on my left hand were keeping me upright as I squeezed them furiously into a small hole in the rockface. My right hand searched frantically for a higher hold before finding enough of a grip on a slimy stalagmite to pull myself upward. One more tricky (and not-so smooth looking) move with my feet and I was standing upright on a small ledge. Finally, I was able to rest after 12 exhausting minutes of rock climbing.

Dripping with sweat in the tropical heat, I heaved air into my lungs and flexed my screaming muscles. The anchor point for the rope in which I was harnessed into was only another five meters above my head but already I was higher than I’ve ever climbed on anything before.  I was mentally preparing for the last surge of energy that would bring me to the top of the climbing route when I heard a rustle in the bushes and a less than friendly growl.  Suddenly, a monkey the size of a house cat jumped into view and effortlessly rushed toward me on the near vertical wall. I screamed. He screeched. I screamed some more. ‘Monkey! There’s a monkey up here! AHHHHHH!’ My last terrifying yell caused the monkey to bare his fangs before disappearing silently out of sight.  Dave, the cruisey and calm guy who was belaying me asked if I wanted to come down. I tried to gain some sort of composure, thought about being attacked by an 8lb monkey on his home turf, and decided not to push my luck.

Once my feet were back on horizontal ground, Connor pointed over to two others in our rock climbing party.  Both Mandy (a ripped Aussie who climbs like it’s her birthright) and Katrina were climbing to our right, directly below a cave. Somehow during my short climb a clan of 40 or 50 monkeys had descended into the cave. Our friends were surrounded. To their credit, Mandy and Katrina quietly got off the wall and calmly moved away from the primate family.

That’s when the first rock flew past my head.

Confused as to how a rock had landed so close to me when I was so far from the wall, I looked up just in time to see a juvenile monkey huck a rock that nearly caught me in the shoulder. ‘Uh guys? I think the monkeys are throwing rocks at us!’ I called out.

‘Really?’ Dave asked incredulously.

‘Monkeys don’t know how to throw rocks at people.’ Connor answered, just as another rock exploded on the boulder directly in front of him. ‘Sh*t ! The monkeys are throwing rocks!’ He laughed out as he and the others rushed closer to the cliff wall and out of the monkey’s range. I waited for Curious George to leave his post (probably to reload) before making a mad dash myself.

For the better part of a half hour ,the five of us ‘superior’ primates lay helplessly pinned against a wall as a three-year-old monkey pelted rocks from his perch every minute or so. Mandy pointed out that I had started this whole guerilla warfare when earlier in the day I had thrown a rock at some monkeys who had been trying to get into our gear… I still claim innocence.

As soon as they had arrived, the crew of monkeys left and we were finally able to move from our shelter. Scanning the mouth of the cave, we noticed the smart little buggers had left two or three of their family members behind to guard the cave. Over the next hour we proceeded to climb quietly and cautiously. It seemed that without the rest of the family around we posed less of a threat.  After several climbs each we finally packed up our gear and called it a day. Definitely the most exciting one in Ton Sai to date!

I arrived in the tiny climbing mecca of Ton Sai a week ago. My expectations were to check out the sights, play on the beach, watch people climb some of the most famous cliffs in the world, and just maybe - give climbing a go myself. Then I met who I refer to as the “Colorado Boys”. This crew of seven young men are a combination of childhood friends, school/work mates, and Sebastian, the token Canadian.  All the boys are accomplished rock climbers with Tyson having climbed the longest and Seb having less than a year under his belt (but don’t let that fool you, he climbs things that scare me to look at). Mike and Thew (a much more original shortened Mathew) are brothers and Connor and Jeremy are their childhood friends. Dave is the groups lone-ranger who also doubles as Mike’s best friend.

The irony of meeting these boys began before I had even met them. In one of my ‘what am I going to do with my life?’ Internet searches, I had come across an adventure travel company called Bold Earth Adventures. Within minutes of surfing their website I added it to my list of “Jobs you would sell your soul to have” and thought I would look into it further when I got home. Low and behold within a half hour of meeting the Colorado Boys over lunch they began to asked the typical series of questions one traveler asks another including, ‘So what do you do for work?’ I half explained a handful of the jobs I’ve had over the past few years before saying that what I really wanted to do is work for an adventure travel company. Suddenly Thew perks up and tells me that’s what most of the group does every summer and that his brother Mike is one of the managers for a company in Colorado. I ask the name and nearly die when he says, Bold Earth Adventures. High on the ironies of life, I show him my notebook and turn to the “Jobs you would sell your soul to have” list and he is almost as surprised as I am by the coincidence. As if I had spoken some secret password, I was in like flynn with the Boys and we haven’t looked back.

Then something happened that I had never expected: I fell in love… with rock climbing. The Colorado Boys invited me to come climbing with them despite my lack of experience (note: my experience = zero if you don’t count the time I went rock climbing indoors with girl scouts). After borrowing what seemed like a piece of equipment from almost everyone, I was shakily taking my first steps on vertical rock. Tyson looked as if he might fall asleep at any moment while belaying me (meaning the climb was that easy) while I, on the other hand, would climb a few feet before stupidly looking down and becoming paralyzed with fear. A few confident words of encouragement from Tyson and I would relax enough to move up a bit more. I finally made the ascent and heaved an exhilarated sigh of relief as rush of adrenaline coursed through me. 

Over the past few days I have done a number of climbs of varying levels of difficulty, but always with an extremely supportive and helpful crew of fellow climbers. A few routes have left me too pumped to send (translation for normal people: some climbs were too hard for me to get to the top) but for maybe the first time in my sporting career; I’m not too bothered by my lack of ability. Just getting on the wall and doing a move that I didn’t think I could do, or getting higher than I expected to get, is enough to leave me smiling for hours. The vibe here is unreal and my two-day stopover has turned into a two-week adrenaline-filled adventure!  And to top it all off (Desi), I’ve even started doing Yoga. =)

-Ash

Fun Fact: Minutes before the 2004 Tsunami hit the west coast of Thailand, climbers high on the cliffs above Ton Sai Bay could see the massive wave coming and were able to warn everyone below to run to high ground. Unfortunately, many climbers did not have time to rappel to safety and were forced to clip into the rock walls and pray. Luckily no climbers were hurt, though many were stuck for hours, and in some cases, through the night before rescue was possible.