Perspiration and Dump Trucks

My teeth are still chattering from my first experience riding in the back of a truck. It was not even your normal pick-up truck, but today I went on a trek and tour to see on old French resort on Bokor Mountain, and my favorite part included piling into a utility/construction-like/dump truck and riding in the back.

There were four different times we were asked to pile on the truck so my story will tell you about my day and each glorious ride on the truck.

We started off the day relatively tired as we had stayed up later than usual playing cards and hydrating with our fellow hostelers. However, after a fresh smoothie with granola, we felt ready to rumble and hopped in a van with about 10 other people. We were under the impression there would be a walk through the woods to the resort and then the car would drop us off someplace else for a walk back. So imagine my surprise (but not too surprised after all this is Asia…) when we were asked to hop out of the Mercedes Benz van and instead hop into a dump truck.

I had a half moment where I thought maybe this was unsafe, but I have seen people riding in pick up trucks and also the road seemed pretty nice. So I shrugged my shoulders, looked around, and hopped up. After the first bend in the road, it turned into pebbles instead of pavement. Still, not so worried, this is Asia. However, leaning against the truck on one side was not very comfortable so I made a note to myself to change up my position on the way back.

We were then left off on the side of the road and asked to follow a park ranger (who happened to be trekking through the hills with us and carrying a bayonet). At the beginning of the hike, I thought to myself, hey this seems easier than the last trek, but of course… famous last words.

The vertical trek took us straight up rock embankments and hanging onto bamboo trees trying to hurtle up the steep and dusty climb. Given the humidity and the high temperature, it was no surprise to look around and see every Westerner bathing in sweat. I don’t think I have ever seen so much sweat in my entire life. At one point, we climbed a set of wooden ladders to reach an overlook and at the top, everyone breathed a sigh of relief and someone asked if it was over. One guide told us we were not even halfway. So off we set again.

By the time we finished the morning trek, I was so excited to sit down that it didn’t quite matter sitting down actually meant climbing onto the large dumpster truck again. I hopped in, carefully made the decision to sit in the back corner, and smiled when one guide, Danny, told me to hold on. After the first bump, I was glad that I was in the corner and could grip two sides of the truck as we bopped along. There were a couple of times were my bum bounced about 5 inches off the ground which made me grip even harder. We drove up the rest of the mountain in the back of the truck, which took about 30 minutes and was a magnificently harrowing experience. You can see my delight in this experience with this picture:

So once we got up to the hill station/French resort, I couldn’t believe how beautiful it was. Although there was a “danger, no entry” sign, this didn’t stop our guide from leading us through the front gate. We were able to explore most of the buildings by ourselves as our guide told us, “No worries - no landmines here” and left us to wander around. The area more or less consisted of old, run-down buildings, but it is easy to imagine the way things used to be. The main resort building was perched on the side of the cliff with multiple terraces and balconies. When you looked out over the cliff, you could see the jungle down below stretching out until the shoreline. Glorious.

As we wandered around, everyone kept asking each other -- “Do you really think they will have us walk back the way we came?” and “Oh my word, that is so steep, how are we going to get down?” Even my guide told me he wasn’t looking forward to the way down. I questioned him whether or not we could take the truck down, but he told me it was too unsafe because rocks might fall down on top of us. Well, let me tell you, I was not expecting that answer but at least he was honest with me.

So off we went for the third truck ride! Once again, I ended up sitting in the back corner as I felt most comfortable being able to hold on for dear life on two sides. I could also tell I would be sore later on -- more due to the truck than the trek.

I will be honest though, going down the trail was a lot easier than I expected. After all, it is much easier to slide down a mountain than it is to climb up. When I doubted my ability to climb down without falling head first, I just sat and slid down. There was still an exorbitant amount of sweat but other than that, the downhill ride was uneventful. When we reached the bottom again and saw the truck, I was so happy that I decided to be among the people standing behind the cab of the truck. It was quite lovely with the wind blowing in my hair. The perfect ending to a perfect trek.

Disclaimer: I do not endorse dangerous activities and please do not attempt to ride in the back of a dumpster truck (unless you are in rural Cambodia).