North to the hills.
815 kilometres solo up the spine of Thailand — out of Bangkok on a canal path, across the paddy plains, and into the northern hills at Chiang Mai. Eight stages, unsupported.
Fly in, box the bike at the airport, and ride straight out onto the canal path — north, as flat and direct as the plains allow, all the way to the hills.
I flew into Don Muang, boxed the bike at the airport, and jumped straight on — the first time I'd ridden out of an airport door like that. Onto a canal path within minutes, north, saving a night in the city and the fight with Bangkok's traffic. By the first evening I was among the ruins at Ayutthaya, iced coffee in hand.
North of the old capital the map goes quiet. Largely flat — canals, small roads, and the line running on — through a fairly unpopulated stretch of paddy country. Few towns, not much traffic, and people out working the rice fields either side of the road. Simple riding that ate the kilometres.
The rhythm set itself: ride through the cool of the morning, a coffee or a smoothie when the heat came up, and roll into a cheap roadside room before dark. A simple hut out in the paddy fields at Sakapani, a resort with a rack of loaner bikes out front — plain, good places to stay, and never far apart.
Quiet tarmac, small roads, and the line running north — canals, paddy fields, and not much else.
Halfway up, the ruins at Sukhothai — the thirteenth-century first capital, chedis and standing Buddhas set about a park of lawns and moats. One of the few proper stops on a ride built to keep moving, and worth the wander before the road tilted toward the hills.
Past Sukhothai the plains finally gave out. The last stages ran up through the northern foothills — rivers running brown with the rains, railway bridges, green closing in on both sides — the two longest days of the trip, to Lampang and over the top into Chiang Mai.
Drizzle on and off most of the way — bearable, and cooler for it. The last day over the hills into Chiang Mai was a proper soaking, though, and the iPad was the casualty: I'd forgotten to double-bag it. Lesson learned.
Eight days up the length of the country, from the canals of Bangkok to the hills of the north — flat, fast, and quiet nearly all the way. A simple, satisfying line on the map, and a good excuse to look closely at the plains most people fly over.
Each stage is a separate Strava activity — browse forward and back there for the rest.