Close encounters of the elephant kind . . .

Halloween isn’t really a big deal in Thailand (or with the farang at Baan Ling) but I had a little fright this morning . . . I was bummed to have early shift this morning because I was due to have the day off, but Rich is out with the flu (we hope) so I covered for him. Morning shift is generally preferred to afternoon shift, even though you work longer and have to get up really early, because you still have most of the day at Baan Ling after you work to get things done (like data entry, napping, reading your book, etc.). When morning shift is really not fun is when it rains. Despite rumors of “winter in Tung Ka Mang,” it still is monsoon season. Sometimes it rains at night, sometimes it rains during the day, and sometimes it rains all the time off and on. One of my least favorite things about my job is hearing it rain and knowing it will be raining when I drive and walk in for morning shift. So this morning found me fitfully sleeping, hearing the rain, and dreading getting up.

At promptly 5:15 I left the house, in the rain, decked out in all of my monsoon wear: rain pants, Wellington boots, gortex jacket, and poncho. I am sure I was quite the sight at that point. I drove to Baan Log where the rangers live to pick up Chet. Chet is a great teacher and I appreciate his patience but his choice of “teachable moments” is less than ideal sometimes. I drove him to Mai Sot Yai (the study site) for the first time two days ago, so when I asked him who should drive he of course wanted to give me the practice. In the dark. In the rain.

Going slowly and squinting through the rain we made our way to TR, a trail in PS country where PS was sleeping. I’m not amazing on the bike with a second person yet, but to his credit Chet is the easiest and best passenger because he is light (so the weight of the bike doesn’t seem off) and he sits like a rock (ditto). Needless to say I drove pretty slowly the whole way because of the dark and the rain. Another thing about the rainy season is tree falls. All of this dead wood gets soaked and falls down, sometimes across the road. These driving hazards are more easily avoided if you drive slowly and only within the range of the headlights, which I am proud to say I do. It is really nice being the second bike driving in the dark because you see so much more and the first bike provides an early warning for sticks on the road. Or animals on the road.

In theory.

I had run into Team Macaque going out about the same time this morning so I figured they would “clear the road,” but they weren’t close enough when I was driving in for me to make use of their headlights or avoidance of treefalls. There was a bit of bamboo across the road and some smaller trees. Bamboo across the road is usually a good indicator of elephant presence, but the rain can also knock it down.

We had just passed the monument, about 200 meters from TR when I saw some really fresh ele poop that hadn’t been there yesterday. So I kicked down into 2nd gear and figured I would just ease myself to TR (it is at the bottom of a big hill anyway).

And then I saw the elephant.

Let’s establish a few things.

First, I’ve wanted to see a wild elephant since I have been here. My ideal viewing would be me watching the monkeys from up on a hill and ele down in a riverbed, all blissfully unaware of my presence. I have repeatedly said I don’t want to see ele on a bike in the dark.

Second, the first thing Chet said to me when we were in the forest for the first time together back in August was, “If you see an elephant, don’t run. Hide or walk away.” Carola’s ele advice was, similarly, to find the largest tree and hide behind it. She warned us of the boldness of ele in the dark, that they hate lights and will attack them; in contrast during the day they are pretty frightened of people and will usually leave if you make noise.

Third, I cannot, when calmed, composed, and during daylight hours, turn a bike around on the road in any sort of speedy or graceful fashion, even if I am the only one on the bike.

So here’s what happened: I see the elephant and don’t panic (Jenn 1, elephant 0). I manage to stop the bike gently (Jenn 1, bike 0). At this point Chet has tapped me and informed me that there is an elephant 10 meters ahead of us, walking toward us, and has slid off the back of the bike. I even turn the bike off before going for the kickstand (Jenn 2, bike 0). At this point the ele is still walking toward us.

Yes, it was dark. But an elephant silhouette is pretty distinctive, no matter what the light level.

In my wet Wellies, I can’t get the bike stand down (Jenn 2, bike 1), and Chet, looking at me like I am crazy, helps me lay the bike down on its side. Then he grabs me and we start running (Jenn 1, ele 1). The elephant is still pursuing. You may think I am an Amazon woman with ridiculously long legs, but I’ve got nothing on this ele. And Chet is about 5’4.”

So we run. And the ele keeps walking. At some point I shout to Chet that we need to get into the forest, thinking it will be better because we will be harder to see and the ele can’t follow us as fast. I’m too scared to look back and see how close the elephant is; navigating running in my raingear with my backpack on my belly (I was the one driving, remember) was challenge enough. Chet tells me though that the ele stopped to sniff the bike.

Then salvation in the form of Hilux headlights came down the road. Chet and I were able to signal Khun Sitat to slow down and I “hid” behind the car to allow my pulse to slow. Come to save the day were Khun Sitat and his wife on their way out of the sanctuary. We followed the car to the bike and the elephant was gone.

So then I turn to Chet and say, “Do you want to drive now?”
And he says, “No, you drive.”