Many years ago I visited the Cave Lodge in northwestern Thailand. It was  
indeed a fine place though the proprietor, an Aussie, hated Americans, for 
which  
I accused him of gross hypocrisy since they are just like us. 
 
The cave in question is Tham Lod, a fine big river cave with nicely  
decorated fossil passages and artifacts. To explore it I was issued a small boy 
 with 
a Coleman lantern and an even smaller short legged dog. (Note: All  commercial 
caves in every part of the world other than Europe and North America  offer 
small boys with Coleman lanterns as guides). 
 
The dog led the way, bravely swimming the river and hopping from rock to  
rock inside the cave. Along the way we encountered a most peculiar artifact, a  
bamboo pole standing upright which had been affixed to the river bottom. From  
it's tip dangled a short line and a snakelike loach. I would have supposed it 
to  be some kind of snare, but upon closer inspection I discovered that the 
loach  was tied to the string, so apparently it was some kind of magical sign,  
especially in view of the weird effigy I later discovered.
 
Eventually we reached a very rickety bamboo ladder about thirty feet  tall 
which led from the roaring river below up the cliff to the fossil  passages 
above. The kid scampered up, then I ascended with some trepidation. I  assumed 
that the dog would simply go home, but to my amazement it began to jump  up the 
ladder from rung to rung. I had never seen an arboreal short legged dog  
before, so as it reached the top rung I took a photo. The flash blinded the  
plucky 
pooch so it lost it's footing and tumbled over backwards into the rushing  
river and was swept away further into the cave, presumably never to be seen  
again.
 
The kid was stricken that his poor little dog was lost, but he had a job to  
do, so we continued exploring until we reached the wondrous pile of coffins 
full  of snakes for which the cave is justly famous. The age of the wooden 
coffins is  unknown, but they are clearly ancient. In them, mingled with the 
remains, were  fine big cave racers, Elaphe taeniura, which are close cousins 
to our 
 own chicken snakes. E. taeniura ranges from Taiwan where it lives  outside, 
grows to enormous size, and is known as the Beauty snake, throughout  eastern 
and southern China, then down into Indonesia. The further south one goes  the 
more troglobitic they become such that in the caves of Mulu in Borneo they  
are almost white and live exclusively on bats. 
 
Caves full of snakes and dead people are the best! Lets not forget all the  
other creepie crawlies. The cave was full of bats, and as a result hosted a  
prolific fauna of guano munching roaches, spiders, crabs, amblypigids,  
beetles, 
moths and other leg nibblers. I was admiring all this when, to my  complete 
surprise, the little dog returned! It had somehow swum back upstream,  ascended 
the ladder, then navigated the cave all in complete darkness! 
 
I was eager to get away from the nasty Aussie, so the following day I  joined 
two fine fellows for a day long trek to the nearby village of Soppong,  
famous for its opium. Jamie was an Aussie himself, but a libertine so we got  
along 
fine. The other fellow, a Kiwi, later disappeared in the gold fields of  
Papua and was presumably eaten by cannibals. 
 
The trek was magnificent, passing along pine clad ridges overlooking karst  
in the verdant valleys below. At one point we overlooked a vast jungle covered  
dolina to which I later returned. We passed several very interesting hill 
tribe  villages inhabited by Red and Black Lahu people. We also met Karen and 
Shan  people, all of whom were dressed in traditional garb. In appearance and  
lifestyle they rather resembled the highland Maya of Guatemala. 
 
In Soppong I discovered an absolutely exquisite lodge made entirely of  
bamboo and covered completely with orchids. The front porch featured hammocks  
and 
a wonderfully playful gibbon whose favorite pastime was cat  torture. The 
place was run by a famous Thai chef who had married a  famous French chef. 
There 
is no way I can adequately describe the food, which  came with accommodation 
for a big $3 or so. Every evening there was a multi  course feast requiring 
hours to eat. It was the very best food I have ever eaten  at any price 
anywhere 
in the world.
 
I was resolved to visit the big dolina so the next day I returned to the  
trail, then followed a small stream down into the thick jungle. It was the  
only 
place I had yet seen that had not been ravaged by slash and burn opium  poppy 
cultivation by the hill tribes. Northern Thailand may seem verdant and  
natural to the uninformed observer, but in reality the hills are crawling with  
people desperate to scratch out a living. (This is in great contrast to the  
virgin rainforest of Khao Sok in southern Thailand where the recent tragedy  
occurred) Nevertheless, in the vast dolina the jungle was still intact. I was  
very 
pleased to find another cave racer, and especially a yellow tortoise,  
Indotestudo elongata. this was proof the place was virgin, for  otherwise the 
poor 
tortoise would have been eaten!
 
The terrain near the stream was extremely rugged, and the boulders so  
slippery and tangled with rattan that I retreated uphill into the more open  
groves 
of giant bamboo. In doing so I missed the cave, but didn't realize  it until I 
went back downhill to discover the stream had disappeared. The day  was 
growing late, and I had miles to go, so I continued up and out of the dolina  
and 
around the mountain. 
 
There I discovered another dolina completely hidden in the jungle, but this  
one had been cleared and cultivated. Standing guard was the most amazing  
scarecrow I have ever seen. A bamboo pole at least fifty feel tall had been  
jammed into a rock crevice in a cliff overlooking the clearing. From its end  
dangled a life sized human effigy complete with face, hands, feet, hat, and  
clothing. This fearsome creature was holding a cocked crossbow with poisoned  
arrow 
as it danced around in the wind at the end of the pole. I can only  suppose 
that it was actually a scaremonkey, not a scarecrow. One thing is  certain, it 
was really scary!
 
Oddly enough, it was not an opium field. The proprietor was growing corn  and 
pumpkins. He had a corncrib/shed which I entered with some trepidation,  
knowing I would not be welcome if discovered. Inside was a rat trap of the  
homemade haveaheart variety (you wouldn't want to spoil a perfectly good dinner 
 
rat!). Just because the devil makes me do it I decided to stuff the rat trap  
full of money. Imagine the inexplicable surprise!
 
That evening a group of Euroweenies at the hotel invited me to join them  for 
an evening of opium, so we walked to a hut on the far outskirts of the  
village of Soppong. I had tried small amounts of opium before and was not  
impressed as opiates are not my drug of choice. Here, real opium was available  
at 
$0.30/pipe. We sat there like zombies pulling on the pipe, but it didn't seem  
to 
be working, so I asked for more, then more again to the dismay of the  
proprietor who seemed to be concerned that I was overindulging. 
 
I was still not impressed until it was time to return to the hotel. That is  
when I discovered that I couldn't get up. I felt perfectly mentally alert but 
no  amount of urging from higher cortical functions would induce my legs to 
move, so  I began to crawl with some difficulty on my hands and knees toward 
the 
door  of the hut. There I faced a formidable obstacle, the notched log that 
served as  a set of stairs.The hut was almost ten feet off the ground so I had 
no choice  but to wrap my arms around the log and slide down, lacerating 
myself in the  process. 
 
Once on the ground I still faced the problem of standing up and walking a  
mile back to the hotel. After many failed efforts I managed to stand up and 
take 
 a few staggering steps, then back down I went. This sequence went on for 
several  hours until I was within sight of the hotel. It seemed that the ordeal 
was over,  all I needed to do was take a whizz and go to bed. Alas, it was not 
to be.  Despite many quarts of beer whizzing wasn't working. I could not 
understand what  was wrong. Even under trying circumstances I can normally find 
my 
dick in the  dark and take care of basic body functions, but now all that was 
impossible. I  staggered back to bed, assuming everything would be OK in the 
morning. Wrong  again! It was three days before I regained full control of my 
body functions! 
 
>From all this you can conclude that northern Thailand is a veritable  
paradise for caving, trekking, and ethnicity, but that opium is for  morons!
 
Sleazeweazel
 
ps: anyone wishing to read the same story with annotated pix is welcome to  
email me.  



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