Rough road off Route 105 between Sop Moei and Mae Sariang rises to over 800 metres in parts affording exceptional views. From this vantage point, the road can be seen running along the spine of the hills below.
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Many have a stereotypical image of the best Thailand has to offer. It is perhaps a melange of sparkling temples and waterways, graceful classical dancers, manicured paddy fields, sandy beaches and refined cuisine. An equally impressive but much wilder side to the country can be found along its northwest frontier with Myanmar (Burma). This is a relatively unpopulated area in which hill tribes quietly carry on traditional ways of life in a land of ancient rivers that cut through endless rugged hill ranges and fertile valleys.
Although much of the region will remain far beyond the reach of outsiders for many decades yet, for better or worse a more modern world is beginning to make inroads. As highways and commerce spread, a spectacular circuit of over 650 kilometres, starting and ending in Tak, gives travellers a glimpse of this vast and remote area. It includes the mighty confluence of the Moei and Salween rivers — and some of the most majestic roads in all the kingdom. |
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| The road from Tak to Mae Sot |
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| Pond and adornments outside New Mae Salit Guest House |
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| Old suspension bridge to cross the Ping River at Tak |
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Tak to Mae Salit
I set out from the provincial capital of Tak turning west along Route 105 to the town of Mae Sot on the Thai-Burmese border. Early stretches of the road are being expanded to dual carriageway, but for the most part it remains a twisting two-lane highway snaking past stretches of water between steep passes and over craggy hills. Lorries crawl up the steepest inclines like heavily pregnant turtles, providing an excellent excuse to slow down and enjoy the exceptional scenery. Drivers in these parts are generally courteous, and usually signal when it is safe to overtake.
As the sun sets behind the Dawna Range beyond the west bank of the Moei River in Myanmar (Burma), a slight chill can be felt in the air. Time to pull off the road. Mae Salit has only two guest houses, and the one overlooking the river is shrouded in darkness and unwelcoming. This is as about as remote as things get by Thai hospitality industry standards: in some 80 kilometres of ‘highway,’ there is only one 'hotel' for the night – unless I knock on a temple door.
I have travelled the 80-kilometre stretch from Tak to Mae Sot countless times over the years, and will never tire of it. It is one of the most majestic roads to be found anywhere in the kingdom. Overlooking the Ping River, Tak is the provincial capital and an important staging point on Route 1 which runs from the national capital of Bangkok, to the northern capital of Chiang Mai and beyond to Chiang Rai. In the mid-18th century, Tak was governed by the future King Taksin the Great, the first king to rule and reunite Siam after the fall of Ayutthaya in 1767.
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| Thai-style sunflower, King Taksin the Great National Park |
Idyllic picnic site, King Taksin the Great National Park |
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| In all modern respects, Tak is a large and unremarkable provincial Thai town — but a vital waypoint on the journey northwards. It is the gateway to Thailand’s much wilder northwest, and dramatic vistas are already close by. Indigenous sunflowers and giant krabok trees flourish in the national park named in King Taksin's honour in 1986 — one of more than half a dozen major parks to be found in this part of the country. Indeed, although relatively few tourists visit the region, parks, caves, waterfalls, temples and other places of possible interest are well signposted. |
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| Approach to the Thailand-Myanmar Friendship Bridge across the Moei River linking Mae Sot to Myawaddy |
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Like Tak, Mae Sot is not about to win any prizes for architecture or cuisine, and its low dusty buildings are somewhat dispersed. The town has always had the air of a place waiting for something to happen. It boasts an airport, and has long been one of the most important trading points along the Thailand-Myanmar border. It is connected by means of the ‘Friendship Bridge’ with Myawaddy on the Burmese side of the Moei River. Mae Sot brims with shops selling heavy carved wooden artefacts and furniture, mostly teak, and coloured gem stones. Dealers sort rough and polished jewels beneath bright spotlights hung low over glass counters.
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All along Route 105, heavy lorries and car transporters bear freight towards the border, returning empty or with lighter loads. The trade is very much an omen of things still to come. Mae Sot is a town with a logistical and geographical importance that lies mostly in the future, but which will one day be enormous. Route 1, apart from being Thailand’s most important north-south artery, is also designated Asian Highway 2 (AH2). This forms part of an ambitious 141,000-kilometre highway network first envisaged by the United Nations in 1959 that will connect more than 30 countries from Japan clear across Asia to Turkey and northwest Russia. The Tak-Mae Sot crosslink is destined one day to connect seamlessly with a highway running up to Myanmar’s old capital of Yangon (Rangoon), and on to its new capital of Naypidaw and its ancient northern capital of Mandalay. From there, it will split, carrying on to India and China — a development that will transform trade and tourism quite unimaginably for everyone.
Many bridges — diplomatic, political and literal — need to be built before the vast jigsaw of the Asian Highway can ever finally fall into place, but over 5,000 kilometres of the network is destined to be in Thailand based on the kingdom’s already well advanced infrastructure. Further north along Route 105 from Mae Sot, few places on earth could be further removed from the prospect of traffic on such a scale. Indeed for centuries, most of the traffic in this part of the world has been borne along the Moei, which is remarkable for being one of the few significant rivers in mainland Southeast Asia to flow northwards.
People and supplies roar up down the river in long-tailed boats with Thai flags fluttering conspicuously from their sterns. These river vessels are powered by huge old car and truck engines with propellers extending directly out on the tips of long transmission poles. Amid an utterly deafening roar, boatmen steer the craft by shifting the entire power assembly balanced on a pivot. Their extraordinary skill and knowledge of the shallow rapids can best be appreciated in the dry season when the river is at its lowest. The flat bellies of their long, tapering craft often brush against the smooth flat stones of the riverbed. In open stretches, closeness to the water affords coolness — and exaggerated senses of speed and exhilaration.
The Moei meets the Salween
The banks of the Moei are often steep and deeply forested with little sign of habitation. Occasional dwellings and sawmills are usually set up on stilts, and roofed with leaf thatch. As the river charts its own winding course, it is never clear what the next bend will bring, but its culmination is spectacular. The Moei rushes headlong into the confluence with the bigger Salween River pounding southwards all the way from Tibet. At this point, the two rivers join forces and sweep powerfully away westwards into Myanmar and another world altogether. Both the Moei and the Salween have stretches of sandy beaches so soft that they are positively hard going and squeaky underfoot. Their sands twinkle in the bright sunlight with flecks of pyrite, or fool’s gold.
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| The confluence of the Yuam and the Salween Rivers, where the clearer waters of the Yuam (left) merge with the muddier waters of the Salween |
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The waters of both the Moei and Salween are the colour of milky tea, and rich in sediment that settles in the flat flood plains for cultivation at drier times of the year — a farming practice common to many parts of Southeast Asia with its infinite networks of rivers that become shallow in the dry season. The geometric scenery created by these painstakingly tended fields is exceptionally striking in the broad river valley of the Yuam River on the last leg of the journey due north along Route 105 from Sop Moei to Mae Sariang. The Yuam flows on southeast from Mae Sariang to another spectacular confluence with the Salween, its clearer waters gradually being absorbed mid-stream into the murky current.
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Harvesting rice just outside Mae Sariang on the
way to Mae Sam Leap |
Agriculture in the rich silt alongside the Yuam River between Sop Moei and Mae Sariang |
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| Tiered rice field north of Mae Salit |
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| Rice farming on the banks of the Yuam River between Sop Moei and Mae Sariang |
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Up in the hills, one can sometimes see evidence of swidden, or traditional slash- and-burn, agriculture in the form of deforested patches and swathes. More immediately striking are tiered paddy fields with irregular perimeters that are set into often quite small parcels of well irrigated and fertile land. Nothing could be more different from the flat and regular rice fields to be seen on the way up from Bangkok through the vast central plains around Ayutthaya, Ang Thong and Chai Nat.
To the north of the Yuam-Salween confluence is the town of Mae Sam Leap, which can be reached these days quite easily by road along Route 1194. The journey used to be an arduous trek fording riverbeds and slithering along diabolically muddy hillside tracks. The town retains its frontier feel, with many of its buildings perched on stilts on the sides of a precipitous creek with a stream that appears insignificant in the dry season. Nearby, swept away concrete bridges, collapsed road edges and the washed up roots of huge trees speak of the enormous torrents that wash down from the hills in these parts with each year’s monsoon. |
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| Houses of Mae Sam Lam Leap line the steeply banked creek |
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| Karen grandmother with child, north of Mae Salit |
Old man with bow, north of Mae Salit |
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Young Karen family in Kaw Moo Der, south of
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A winding road south from Mae Sam Leap is still being clawed from the hillside by giant excavators and graders contracted by the Department of Rural Roads. Still far from completion, it comes to a grinding halt on a concrete slab in a Karen village, Kaw Moo Der. Most of the people in this area are Thai Karen, an ethnic minority numbering nearly 200,000. There are more than three million Karen in Myanmar. Other ethnic minorities along both sides of the border include the Mon further south, and the Karenni and Shan further north. Over 140,000 people, mostly Karen, have also taken refuge in camps along this border. There are regular security checkpoints, but these are usually open in daylight hours. |
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| Loading longboats moored in the ‘harbour’ at Mae Sam Leap on the Salween River |
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Waiting for a boat near the ‘harbour’ at Mae Sam Leap on the Salween River
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Typical river traffic along the Salween River, just south of Mae Sam Leap |
Mae Sam Leap is a village of traders with far more shops than its small population would ever warrant. Teak logs are untidily piled on the riverbank, and sturdy porters struggle across the sands and rock to a 'harbour' that shields long-tail boats from the strong current of the Salween. Sometimes written as Salawin or Salwine, which are closer phonetically to local pronunciations, the Salween rises in Tibet and flows through Yunnan Province, then down through eastern Myanmar’s Shan State. In China, it is known as the Nu River, and in Myanmar as the Thanlwin. At around 3,000 kilometres in length, The Salween boasts some unique ecology, and is the second longest river in Southeast Asia after the mighty Mekong. It is also the longest — for now at least — without any dams.
The Salween’s passage through Thailand is brief but spectacular, forming a hundred-kilometre stretch of Mae Hong Province’s border with Myanmar. Although shallow draft vessels can travel south from Mae Sam Leap to the confluence with the Moei or north to the Salween National Park without difficulty, the river overall has thousands of deep gorges and rapids, including a waterfall some 30 kilometres inside Myanmar, which make it unsuitable for navigation. The Salween finally disgorges into the Andaman Sea near the ancient Burmese port of Mawlamyine (Moulmein) in the Gulf of Martaban, and is navigable inland from there for less than 100 kilometres at the wettest times of the year.
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| Burmese style temple, Mae Sariang |
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| Burmese-style temple on the banks of the Yuam River, Mae Sariang |
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| Burmese-style temple on the banks of the Yuam River, Mae Sariang |
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| The road from Mae Sariang to Hot follows the Yuam River in parts and goes over 1,100 metres in others, with rich farm land and blossoms along the way. |
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Return to Tak
Mae Sariang is cosier and trendier than either Tak or Mae Sot, and has a more distinct Burmese flavour about it. Many of the town’s best hotels and guest houses nestle alongside the gently flowing Yuam River. The town’s central grid is easily walked, and there are still a good number of old-fashioned wooden shophouses with hardwood floors polished by the years that would cost a millionaire’s ransom in the West.
Route 108, the main road northeast from Mae Sariang, runs all the way to Chiang Mai. But those wishing to close the loop and return to Tak need only go as far as Hot near the Ob Luang National Park, where they can strike off south along Route 1106 to Doi Tao and then along Route 106 through Li to Thoen, joining Route 1 back down to Tak.
The road to Hot from Mae Sariang is every bit as spectacular as the road from Tak to Mae Sot. It rises to over 1,100 metres in parts with dramatic changes in scenery that include relatively temperate forests with unusually abundant blossoms. The final dramatic leg to Hot hugs the Chaem River tightly on one side and a rock face on the other. The road from Hot to Thoen is relatively flat and open until the rollercoaster final 20 kilometres with its sharp bends, roughly patched potholes and sudden changes of pace. The last 100 kilometres back to Tak is fast motorway all the way, and by far the tamest road seen in days. The huge illuminated forecourts of petrol stations flashing past seem almost extraterrestrial, and indeed they come from another world after time spent along the darkened frontier.
This spectacular circuit starting and ending in Tak is slightly over 650 kilometres in length, but most visitors will wish to make detours that will take them considerably further. Travellers to this relatively remote part of Thailand should always be aware that the Moei and Salween rivers form international boundaries that must be respected and may be subject at times to security restrictions. The area is best visited in the company of experienced guides from either Mae Sot or Mae Sariang.
Story and Photographs by Dominic Faulder |
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Dominic Faulder is a British journalist who has been based in Thailand since
1981 covering the region, notably Myanmar (Burma) and Cambodia. His
articles, photographs and commentaries have been carried by numerous
publications and news organizations in the region and around the world, and
have covered everything from political uprisings to white elephants. Of
late, he has been devoting more time to editing work on historical and
educational book projects.
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