WIANG HAENG AND DOI ANG KHANG, THAILAND
Thai campgrounds are pretty awful, unless you don’t mind pitching your tent on a lawn next to a parking lot two feet away from someone else. I get it, it’s a social event, but when I go camping I want to pretend I’m tracking mastodons or sneaking behind enemy lines or one of those other manly things I’ll never get to do.

Luckily, it turns out you can pitch a tent and start a fire pretty much anywhere. It’s hard to get used to, because where I grew up that’s a great way to get arrested, but as long as you don’t eat endangered wildlife or leave trash like a dickhead you can get away with pretty much anything.

So we rented Honda Phantoms (for when you’re broke but want to look like you’re on a Harley) and drove through the mountains. The 1322 to Wiang Haeng dead-ends in one of Burma’s black zones, but before that it’s wonderfully paved and is full of crazy hairpin turns on something like a 20% grade. Doi Ang Khang is often glibly referred to as “The Switzerland of Thailand,” and that’s all I have to say about that.