Umphang Thailand's Death Highway

Umphang in Tak Province has long been one of Thailand's most remote provinces. Well in the 20th Century the only access to the region was by pack horse, ox-cart or on foot and in the late 60s the Thai government financed construction of road through the perilous mountains only to have rebels kill thirty construction workers. The other workers abandoned their machinery and it wasn't until the mid-70s that Highway 1090 connected Mae Sot to Umphang. I had always been curious about Umphang and this week convinced my ex-wife and daughter to travel with me in our pick-up to the distant town. This was quite an accomplishment, since Thais are more interested in food than scenery, plus neither of us had ever heard of anyone ever going to Umphang. "It will be an adventure." "Oh." Angie my eight year-old daughter groaned with dismay. Her idea of excitement was hitting an MK restaurant for a big dinner. Yesterday we set off north to Tak and then Mae Sot. We asked the owner of a noodle stop at the beginning of Highway 1090, if she had ever been to Umphang. "Mai. Mao lot." Car sickness is endemic with Thais, but this highway is renown for its formidable assault of 1219 nail-biting curves on the tender Thai constitution. "Umphang mii arai?" Angie's mom asked the owner's husband who had family in Umphang. He was part Karen, which was the major ethnic group in the area, who have been at war with Burmese government for decades. "Umphang has nam-tok Thi Lo Su. Very beautiful waterfall." We were heartened by that information and set off for Umphang. It was only 160 kilometers away. A long 160. The road was treacherous. Work crews were repaired damage from monsoon rains at various spots in the mountains. Mudslides had washed out the road in others. We could look across the valley and see the road snake up to the peaks. 160 got longer and longer and the day got shorter. Coming around a corner late in the day I was surprised by another pickup in my lane. I tapped my brakes and skidded forward without any control. Coming from frozen Maine I didn't turn the steering wheel to avoid a slide. The other driver did the same. My internal proximity alarms rang like the Titanic's 'abandon ship' claxons. First milli-second 100% my right bunker smacks the driver side door. Second milli-second 90% I tag his rear bunker. Third millisecond we miraculously passed each other without a scratch. He braked to see that I didn't plunge off the road, then continued on his way and me on mine. "Close." Angie's mom was not happy. I wasn't either. The 160 got even longer, for the skies opened up, as we entered the home stretch. A little late the skies opened and monsoon rains lashed the mountains. We descended to a valley and I spotted a motorcycle stopped before a brown deluge racing across the road. It looked about hub cap deep, but I waited for an oncoming truck to test the waters. He emerged from the angry torrent and I followed his path to the other side. The motorcycle driver was stuck in the rain. We arrived in Umphang at sunset to discover not a jungle Shangril-lah, but a sleepy town accustomed to its remoteness. No restaurants were open and we had to make do with noodles, plus the road to the Thi Lo Su waterfall had been washed out by the monsoon. Needless to say there were few happy campers in our guesthouse rooms that evening. pick-up upon our arrival in sleepy Umphang. Today it's back to Mae Sot. The same 160 kilometers. The same highway. My daughter is poking me in the back. Her eyes say one thing. Let's go.