I don’t remember waking up that day with a big plan.
I just remember feeling restless.
I was living in Phitsanulok, Thailand at the time, and cycling had become my way of clearing my head. That morning, I decided to ride out of the city toward the mountains.
There was a temple up there, and further along the same route, a waterfall. I had no strict plan, no timeline — just the road ahead.
At that point, I didn’t fully think through how far it actually was.
Where and When This Happened
📍 Phitsanulok, Thailand
📅 13 November 2012
I started from Phitsanulok city and cycled toward the mountains. My first stop was Khao Samo Klang (GPS: 16.846568123072533, 100.40294623422182), followed by Namtok Kaeng Song further along the route.
The distance one way was roughly 48 km, making it about 96 km round trip.
At the time, it didn’t feel like a “trip”. It felt like just another day out on the bike — which, in hindsight, was a bit optimistic.
- From Phitsanulok City to Temple: 17.5 Km
- Temple to WaterFall: 34.2 Km
- Back to Phitsanulok City 44.3 Km
The Ride Out of the City
The first part of the ride was familiar. Flat roads, local traffic, shops opening for the day.
Once I left the city area, things slowly changed.
The roads became quieter. Fewer cars, more space, more heat. The sun was already strong, and this was Thailand — shade disappears quickly once you leave town.
Traffic wasn’t aggressive, even though it was only a single-lane road back then — unlike the two-lane road it is today — and there wasn’t much of a shoulder. You learn to stay alert, but also calm. Cycling here teaches you patience more than speed.
Reaching Khao Samo Klang Temple
This was my first real stop.
The climb toward Khao Samo Klang slowly took its toll. My pace dropped, and I started to feel the heat properly. When I finally reached the temple, I didn’t feel excited — I felt relieved.
There were no visitors, no entry fee, and no noise. Just quiet surroundings and a sense of stillness that made the effort feel worth it. I rested for a while, drank some water, and took a few photos.
It felt untouched in a way you don’t often find once places become popular.
A Small Local Encounter I Still Remember
Not far from the temple, I stopped at a small shop to buy a drink.
The shopkeeper started asking the usual questions — where I was from, where I was going, how far I had cycled. When he heard I had come all the way from the city on a bicycle, he seemed genuinely amused.
Then, in a light-hearted way, he called his sister over and jokingly asked if I would like to marry her.
I laughed, politely told him I was already married, and we all smiled. No awkwardness — just one of those simple, funny moments that happen naturally when you slow down and interact with people.
It’s a small memory, but it stayed with me.
Onward to Namtok Kaeng Song
After resting at the temple, I continued toward Namtok Kaeng Song.
The road climbed again, and this is where I really started to feel it. My legs were heavy, and I remember thinking I should’ve brought more water.
When I finally reached the waterfall, there was no entry fee and no crowd. Nothing dramatic — just a peaceful spot surrounded by nature. After such a long ride, even sitting quietly nearby felt like a reward.
The Ride Back (Easier Than Expected)
The return journey was surprisingly easy.
After the long climbs, descending from the mountains felt like a reward. My legs finally got a break, and the wind helped with the heat. I found myself cruising back much faster than expected, enjoying the effortless flow of the downhill ride.
It was a reminder that every hard climb eventually gives something back.
What That Day Taught Me About Thailand
That day showed me how different Thailand feels once you leave cities behind.
Distances feel longer. Time feels slower. There’s less distraction, so you notice your own limits more clearly. Rural Thailand isn’t about attractions — it’s about patience, endurance, and quiet human moments.
It also reminded me that everyday life here often turns into stories without planning.
What I’d Do Differently Today
If I did this ride today, I’d plan a bit better.
Actually, no — I wouldn’t do it.
I’ll be turning 53 in March 2026, and I quit cycling years ago. These days, I jog instead. It suits me better now.
Looking back, I’d bring more water, start earlier, and pace myself — not because the ride went wrong, but because age and experience quietly change how you look at effort.
Why I Still Remember This Ride
I remember the date — 13 November 2012.
What I don’t remember is every small detail.
What stayed with me is how that day felt.
Living in Thailand gives you many days like this — unplanned, tiring, simple — and memorable in ways you only understand years later.
Personal experience from 2012, shared as part of everyday life in Thailand.
