While the lake created by construction of Ratchaprapha Dam and Khao Sok National Park attract leisure tourists throughout the year, opposite them by Highway 401 is Khlong Phanom National Park that draws fewer visitors even though it promises some great adventure, exotic birds and animal life. Because of its quiet and remote location, visitors to Khlong Phanom are few and far between. Therefore park ranger Anothai Sriraksa was a bit surprised when he found me all by myself. "Are you going in alone?" he asked. I hesitated briefly before smiling in acknowledgement. My destination was Khao Wong, until 20 years ago a refuge for guerrillas of the now-defunct Communist Party of Thailand, that is now open to tourists. The park doesn't charge visitors an admission fee. It has beautiful waterfalls, streams, a subterranean cave system and rugged mountain terrain infested with leeches. Most attractions are scattered far apart and not easily accessible, some only by foot. But here I was chasing a violent period in our history which came to an end with the laying down of arms by the last communist fighters in the late 1980s after the government granted them general amnesty. Khao Wong was a mountaintop hideout comprising a labyrinth of caves fed by a stream and accessible only via a tunnel. At the height of the war it is said that its existence was not known to most people. That it was going to be a tough task getting there, I had no doubt but after going the distance I realised that it was much more than I had bargained for in the first place. "Do not worry, just carry your own bag and we will take care of the rest," the ranger said assuringly. We drove for 60 kilometres to another side of the park, walked through rubber plantations criss-crossed by streams and past the last human settlement to arrive at the foot of Khao Wong, marked by dense jungle and slippery trails swarmed by leeches hiding under thick weeds and shrubs that thrive under the conditions, the start of the real trek. Smelling blood, the leeches - two inches long - were at us at every step. At a certain point we lost our way, the thick overgrowth covering the trail, and took the stream which serves as a fairly reliable route marker. We switched back and forth between trails and the stream as we went, avoiding several obstacles on the way. Occasionally the rangers stopped, pulled up their trousers and put the flame of their lighters to leeches clinging to their legs; they fell off without a fight. After two hours of trekking the lead ranger, Thongchai Chokamnuaypol, announced that we had arrived at the most difficult part of the journey, a 45-degree climb along a 300-metre-long trail infested with even more leeches. I took deep breaths and worked my way patiently up the hill, asking myself who was the first person to trace existence of the cave before it became a communist hideout, when my chain of thoughts was interrupted by the sound of flapping of wings. I looked up to find some 20 wreathed hornbills among a canopy of trees engaged in what I think was pre-mating courtship. They seemed immune to our presence, making loud noises as if reinforcing the point that this was their territory. Forgetting the leeches for a while, I sneaked around for a good look at the birds and a good angle to capture them on my camera. The clicking of the shutter was enough to send them in a state frenzy and they took flight. When the last of them had left my attention returned to the blood-sucking parasites. They were all over me - my feet and ankles, my hip and some had managed to make their way up my chest. One by one I pulled them out. After sucking blood some had grown to the size of a cigarette. After trekking five hours we arrived at the limestone cave neatly camouflaged by dense shrubs and trees. Entering it, the cave looked like a enormous natural fortification with a stream running through it. It had floors with bunkers connected by a system of ramps. "This is just the beginning. The cave has another entrance on the other side," Thongchai said. Since dusk had fallen we retired for the night. I stretched out in a hammock watching bats flying overhead when I heard the excited voices of rangers who had caught a mouse deer, the size of a cat, outside the cave. It indicated that wildlife was returning to Khao Wong after the decades-long war that had decimated or driven away most of animals that once roamed its slopes. Over a camp fire the rangers, who grew up there, reminisced stories of the days when insurgents ran the roost. "As far as I remember they were nice to people. They helped my father build a granary and in turn my father cooked them chicken meals." recalled Thongchai. "Those were violent times, just like what is happening in the southernmost provinces at the moment." Next morning, armed with torches we followed the stream and explored the cave that snakes through limestone mountain. The water was knee deep, the ceiling four metres high making for excellent ventilation. Weird rock formations and sandy banks added to its decor. There were terraced rock platforms where we occasionally stopped for a rest, but not for long since the light from our touches attracted vinegar flies that made life difficult. "Once this cave used to be illuminated with electric lamps," said one ranger, apparently referring to the days when it was still a communist hideout. I spotted a snake whose head bobbed above the water's surface and moved out of its path. After some 45 minutes of trekking we arrived at the cave's exit - or call it the other entrance - a foot-wide fissure in a rock that was link to the outside world. I trod gingerly making my passage through the crack but the stream's strong current kept pushing me forward. My backpack got stuck in the fissure and as I tried to free it, I was swept forward and landed in chest-high water outside the cave. Now I know why it made such a perfect hideout. Besides a well camouflaged entrance, it had an equally sound exit that only allowed just one man to pass at a time, and come rainy season when water level is high passage was virtually impossible. Outside the cave weeds and grass grew rampant. It had been left neglected for a long time. After exiting the cave for a while the stream ran over a flat patch that must have been a fruit or vegetable garden in the old days. We followed the stream to its edge where it plunged into a ravine 30 metres deep forming a waterfall, which made access even more difficult from this end of the cave. Then it was time to head back. But there were no trails to lead you down this natural fortification. The only way was to climb down the cliff. My legs were shaking as I eased my way down, holding on to everything within reach - branches of trees, shrubs and dents in the rock - for grip and balance. After about 20 minutes during which I must have strained every sinew and muscle in my body, we landed at a clearing from where there was a trail that would lead us on the long trek home. I turned and looked up at the fortification one last time, still amazed and still trying to figure out who was first person to set foot on Khao Wong and lay bare the secrets of the cave. |