Kuang Si waterfall

I had been trying all week to arrange a bike ride to one of the many waterfalls in the area.  In the end, no group was going, but the company that I liked offered me a bike and private guide for a reasonable price, so off I went yesterday.  The biggest waterfall here is Kuang Si which is a thirty five kilometer ride - each way.  I was pretty sure the round trip would be too hard for me if it was hilly, but with no group to slow down, I also knew I could wuss out and take a tuk-tuk back with the bikes.  Seemed like a no-lose situation to me.

The night before, I got together with Devin Mills again since he was leaving for Chiang Mai in the morning.  Devin and his friends had rented bikes and ridden to Kuang Si by themselves, but he is a lot younger than me.  I am happy to have a guide and mechanic with me.  Devin also told me that the waterfall is on three levels.  The walk to the first and middle levels is easy, but the walk to the top is very steep and slippery, and he implied that maybe I should not do it.  More on that later ...

My guide, Somhkit, was absolutely wonderful.  I was struggling on the hills, and he was helpful and encouraging.  One hill just went on forever.  Then on the other side it went down even steeper and longer.  The final approach to the waterfalls was another steep hill; I gave up and walked the bike.

Somhkit was the first private guide I had had in Laos, so I asked him all my questions about family, religion, education, politics, etc.  Among other things, he told me that Laos is a communist country.  How do they pick the leader, I asked.  He is elected by everyone over the age of eighteen.  Hmm ... I said.  That sounds like democracy.  What makes it communist?  He explained:  Everyone follows the same rules - the leaders and the people, everyone treats each other with respect, and there is no corruption.  So that makes them communist.  What about business?  Can anyone have any business they want?  Yes, but they are restricted by the rules that the communist government imposes.  Okay, I get it.  They elect the leader and they have a capitalist economic system, but they are communist.  Huh?

When we got to Kuang Si, Somhkit took me to eat at the guides' area rather than the tourist restaurant.  I love eating real food as long as I have a guide to tell me what to get and how to eat it.  I was feeling bad about how much I had struggled on the ride, so at lunch, I told Somhkit that I was a lot older than I look.   He asked how old I am (that is a non-offensive question in most countries) and when I told him, he went nuts.  I thought you were forty five, maybe fifty.  You are the oldest women I have ever guided.  Maybe the oldest of men and women.  After that, Somhkit was even more supportive and helpful.

We walked to the first and second levels of the waterfall.  Then he took me to the path to the top level.  I told him I heard the path was steep and slippery.  No problem, he said, you can do it, you are superwoman, it is only 500 meters.  I'm not sure why I listened to Somhkit rather than Devin whom I have known his entire life, but I guess flattery does work.   On the way up I started doubting my sanity again.  But it really wasn't that bad and we made it with only a couple of rest stops.  The top is kind of like the top of Nevada Falls.  I took off my shoes and waded across the pool, holding on to Somhkit's arm.  I don't know why I thought the path down on the other side would be easier.  It was steep and slippery.  Duh!  It was harder going down than up, but Somhkit held out his arm and I gripped his wrist for support.  Meanwhile, he is doing this whole thing - biking, climbing slippery trails - in flip flops.  And texting a friend, too, while we are walking.

Wearing Somhkit's "official" hat

A rest stop on the way up

The pools were incredibly green.  At the middle pool, there is a rope for jumping in.  You just have to wade across slippery rocks, climb wooden steps nailed on the trunk, reach out with a stick to pull in the rope, and then jump into freezing water.

That is not me.  I am still moderately sane.

To go back to Luang Prabang, we put the bikes on a tuk-tuk and had the driver drop us off at the top of the killer hill.  For the first ten or fifteen kilometers I watched the road and thought, what a wuss - I could have ridden this.  Then we went up that hill and the tuk-tuk was struggling in second gear.  I would have died.  I had never looked back when we rode there in the morning, but from the top of the hill, there was a wonderful view of Luang Prabang in the distance.  We rode down the hill and ... it went on forever.  Now I know why I struggled so much.

When we got back to Luang Prabang, Somhkit took me on a tour of the city.  I think he felt bad that I had cut the ride short, but I was willing to call it a day the first time we passed his office.  Even with the tuk-tuk ride, it was a fifty kilometer day - the second longest ride of this trip - and a climb up a waterfall as well.  My legs are dead today.

Oh, Somhkit, who is 28, married, and has a one year old son, was a monk for six years starting when he was twelve.  He thinks everyone should be a monk twice in his life.

Today was my final day in Luang Prabang and I spent most of it reading at poolside and resting my aching body.  Tomorrow I leave for Bangkok, en route to Myanmar.