Day 3: The mystery of the mango tree
Last night’s rain made for some muddy riding today — fortunately, just enough to make it fun, not enough to make it tedious or difficult. After breakfast in Thailand we made our way to Anlong Veng, the last stronghold of the Khmer Rouge who controlled the area until they were overthrown in April 1998.
There’s a small border crossing into Thailand near Prasat Preah Vihear, and visa requirements are waived for people making short day trips to either side of the border, so we planned to go to Thailand for breakfast — Lis was craving chicken and sticky rice, and I was craving pad thai, which is now my second favorite noodle-based breakfast after pho.
Last night I had asked Lis if I would be able to take more pictures of the temple in the morning, and he kindly agreed to shift our breakfast an hour earlier so I could take pictures when the light was best. (around 8-9am)
Unfortunately due to the change in schedule we had to cross the border before it opened for the day, but that was pretty easy, as it’s not exactly a high-security border. (Apparently there are checkpoints further along the road into Thailand that are more strict.)
On the Thai side there’s a paved road right up to the border. I was wishing I hadn’t seen it because it kind of ruined the feeling of being in the middle of nowhere. I knew it was there before we went, but seeing it was different than just reading about it.
We arrived at the Thai market area even before the first vendors had shown up for the day. We waited a few minutes until one showed up, then helped them unload their truck and generally made nuisances of ourselves while they tried to set up their shop for the day: asked them for coffee, helped ourselves to some ice cream while we waited for breakfast, …
Everywhere we went I enjoyed watching Lis and Sophal interact with the locals: they seemed to know people wherever we went, and even if they didn’t they seemed to have no hesitation about joking around with people, jumping into the kitchen to help cook, etc. I know they have been to these places many times and know people at each place, but I don’t think they knew these Thai vendors and they seemed just as friendly with them. I wondered if this instant familiarity was a cultural thing, or a Lis and Sophal thing. Cambodians seem pretty playful in general: server girls and hotel staff were constantly flirting with me everywhere I went.
I had some good Pad Thai, played with the vendors’ cute puppy named Cocoa, made a few phone calls home using my cheap Thai SIM card, then we walked back across the border in heavy fog. I abandoned my plans to take more pictures of the temple due to lack of sunlight since I had already taken a bunch the day before, but I realized afterwards that I probably could have gotten some cool shots in the fog.
After worrying last night about a possibly slippery ride down the mountain, I actually became quite excited to start riding down. We collected our riding gear from the place we left it yesterday; the pants that I had carefully hung under a tarp mysteriously found their way onto the grass a few meters away, so they were soaking wet and very cold. I braced myself and put them on; if I wasn’t awake before, I was now!
Riding down was no trouble: not the least bit slippery, and overall very fun. I had a couple “yikes, I’m going way too fast for this section” moments but was able to slow down and regain control in each case. (those moments are what makes these kinds of sports fun)
I was disappointed to reach the bottom so soon, and thought about asking if we could go up and down again. I should have — I’m sure the guides would have been accommodating as usual.
We spent the next couple hours riding on super fun muddy roads, which weren’t nearly as slippery as I expected. I had tons of fun weaving around potholes, choosing the best path through and around puddles and deep patches of mud, and avoiding other vehicles — as usual we were the fastest and most mobile vehicles on the road, so I tried to be nice to others working their way through the mud on scooters etc, and left the easiest paths open for them whenever we passed each other.
At one point Lis came to a stop near someone who seemed to be stuck in the mud on their scooter, and I thought he was going to go over to help them so I parked my bike next to his so he could lean it on mine, because the kickstand wouldn’t work in the soft mud. It turned out that he was just getting back on his bike after a minor wipeout, and when he went to kickstart his bike I wasn’t expecting it and the force knocked me over into the mud — my only wipeout today :)
Once in a while I would find myself flying towards a puddle of unknown depth with a lot of speed and think to myself “uh oh, hope this doesn’t send me flying over the handlebars”, but after standing up to absorb some of the shock with my legs, the bike soaked up the rest of it with no problem.
Another hazard was trying to wave to all the friendly children: whenever kids heard our loud bikes coming they would run out of their houses to wave and say hello. With Lis leading the way all the time they had plenty of warning, so by the time I got there they were out in full force. Much of the time due to the mud and potholes I didn’t want to take my hand off the handlebars to wave back because I was barely in control with both hands, but I couldn’t just ignore them. Sometimes they would even jump around while they were waving; how do you ignore enthusiasm like that?
The fun muddy riding ended around 11:30, after that it was back to boring flat dry stuff. By noon the sun and wind had completely dried my clothes. I considered myself lucky to have gotten a taste of riding in mud, considering we were near the height of the dry season.
I’d really like to come back to ride in truly muddy conditions during the wet season, partly because the riding sounds fun but also because I think the photography would be a lot better then as well: everything would be greener, the temples would be more overgrown, you could get nice pictures of lush rice paddies and wet temple stones after rainstorms, etc. I doubt that I’ll get back here again within the next year or so but would like to soon. It sounds like Sep/Oct is a good time to visit during the wet season.
We stopped for a snack of volleyball-sized grapefruit, then continued on to Anlong Veng. We ate lunch at a nice place overlooking a marsh with Ta Mok’s residence visible in the distance.
Ta Mok, a.k.a. The Butcher, was the leader of the Khmer Rouge’s army during its most brutal years, responsible for many massacres and thousands of deaths. He was arrested by the Cambodian army in 1999, and spent his last few years in prison in Phnom Penh, awaiting trial for genocide. His trial was repeatedly postponed and he finally died of natural causes in July 2006.
After lunch we rode on a paved road up the Dangrek escarpment to Pol Pot’s grave site. He died under mysterious circumstances in April 1998, and was cremated here on a pile of tires and garbage before the government could inspect the body.
Then we rode a short distance on some really fun singletrack to his former bunker, strategically located near the Thai border so he could flee the country if needed.
I never really got this story straight and haven’t found much info about it online, but apparently the Khmer Rouge leaders were supposed to have had $2 billion in cash or gold stashed away someplace, and nobody knows what happened to it. I think it is supposed to have been under Ta Mok’s control in the end, but I’m not sure. (I may research this more and update this text later)
When we arrived at Pol Pot’s bunker we saw a bunch of army guys digging a big hole next to it; apparently the night before someone came and dug up a mango tree, looking for something. The army guys weren’t sure if the mysterious diggers had found what they were looking for, so they were continuing to dig in the same place to see if they could find something buried there. Lis said he thought it seemed unlikely that last night’s visitors found whatever they were looking for because the hole had been filled in afterwards: if they had found what they wanted, wouldn’t they have wanted to get away as soon as possible?
We hung around for a while watching them dig; I was half-expecting to see them discover a chest filled with $2 billion. I considered offering to help so they’d split the loot with me if we found it, but chickened out.
After a while we rode back down the way we came (still fun) and turned off to our guesthouse in a really cool setting on the edge of the escarpment.
I had a bucket shower, laid in a hammock for a while, and had a couple beers with Lis and Sophal. I was tempted to say “OK boys, let’s pound back a few more beers, grab some shovels and ride back to dig up that treasure” but didn’t think they’d go for it.
We had another good and filling dinner, then turned in for the night, dreaming about Ta Mok’s gold.
See more photos of dirtbiking in Cambodia, or a chronological view of photos from today.