Riding Cambodia’s Death Road

This was always going to be a full-on adventure: 1125 miles off-road, riding a Honda XR250 across one of the poorest and least-developed countries in South East Asia. From the chaotic streets of Cambodia’s capital Phnom Penh to hacking through the lush jungle trails en route to the deserted 12th century Angkorian temple Preah Kahn, this trip promised to tick all the boxes.

Cambodia is a beautiful country populated by friendly, humble yet seriously resourceful people. A country where you load your bike onto a hand-made raft to cross a river – or simply wade in and carry it across with the help of your mates if there’s no boat. A country where a service station is a tiny stall with Pepsi bottles filled with petrol, and roadside refreshments include deep-fried snake, tarantula or cockroach. Here’s the story of my personal adventure ride through this breathtaking world.

Day 1: State of emergency

The plane from Bangkok to Phnom Penh is coming in to land and it’s just become clear what’s in store for us. For as far as you can see, there’s more water than land. The previous weeks had seen Cambodia battered by severe typhoons, which had led to flooding and a state of emergency being declared in parts of the country, with over 100,000 people displaced from their homes. Fortunately, the rain has finally stopped and things are getting back to normal, but to ensure the group of 20 riders I’m with will make it to the finish, the route has had to be altered. 

I’m still nervous though, and I go off to bed with the words of one of our highly experienced Cambodian guides ringing in my ears: ‘You have to be careful. Some of the puddles are just puddles, 5cm deep. But others can be very deep, maybe two metres. The trouble is, they all look the same…”

Day 2: Phnom Penh to Snoul (125 miles)

After being acquainted with our bikes, we fight our way through the chaotic Phnom Penh rush hour. There are nearly 30 of us including guides and support crew and we get plenty of attention. Six miles later the traffic thins and we get our first taste of off-road, riding in light sand alongside the Mekong River to our first stop for the day. This isn’t for fuel or a drink – we’ve come to our first Angkorian temple, Wat Tar Kung, to meet head monk Samdech Tat Heung.

The temple is opposite a school and within seconds of our arrival we’re surrounded by wide-eyed, smiling children, eager to hear us speak and laugh at our off-road riding kit. Our bikes are blessed and the monk gives us a Buddhist protection cord to tie around our wrist. A few more miles of Tarmac and we’re off-road again.

There’s still over 90 miles to go until we reach Snoul, our first overnight stop, but it’s not about the destination – this trip is about the journey. The riding is relatively easy, but the scenery is stunning – ancient temples are commonplace, as are friendly locals. So far there’s no sign of the deep ruts and flooded roads we’ve been promised, but it’s a nice way to start the trip and my recently blessed XR250 is running just fine.

Day 3: Snoul to Sen Monorom, Mondulkiri (90 miles)

With the typhoon over, the rain is replaced with sunshine and humidity. Gone are the open, dusty roads, instead the route is a narrow, muddy trail littered with small, loose rocks. The smiles of day one are gone. This is hard going, and the result is crashes galore and some exhausted riders by the halfway stage. Sensing that morale is wavering, we are teased with the reward of jumping into Busra waterfalls to cool off if we get to our destination, Sen Monorom in time.

This added motivation makes our progress in the afternoon more rapid, despite our Camelback hydration rucksacks being empty. Three punctures later we roll into Sen Monorom. It’s been a long, hard day and only a few of us have the energy to ride another 20 miles to the promised waterfall – but well worth it. It’s time to get into the water, kit and all. My Alpinestars boots act like deep sea diving wellies and the water is so refreshing that the trials of the day dissolve. The ride back is just as beautiful. The sun is setting and the dust from the bike in front hangs in the air, but there’s no rush. I’m cool for the first time all day and there’s a cold beer waiting back at the hotel.

Day 4: Sen Monorom to Kratie via Chollong (155 miles)

It’s a 6am start and we’re soon into some fast off-road sections. Although it’s dry, the evidence of the typhoon and the resulting flooding is easily visible – there are deep channels etched into the road where it has been eroded by water just days earlier. This may not be good for other road users, but for us Enduro riders, it’s great fun. We pick our route, planning our evasive action while battling the riders alongside. 

Four days in and I’m finally getting used to the clouds of dust kicked up by the bikes in front. Dust is now a staple of my diet – I’m breathing in that much. Today is also our first river crossing. We’ve heard a lot about these and the reality doesn’t disappoint. There are two hand-crafted wooden boats with planks laid across them to form a platform. When bike one goes on, it looks fine, but five bikes later it’s sitting low in the water. With no health and safety laws to worry about, the boat leaves the shore and despite being centimetres away from losing six XR250s to the bottom of the river, we get to the other side. Like most problems in Cambodia, people don’t stress and it all works out.

Day 5: Kratie to Banlung (63 miles)

It’s another early start – but not because we’ve got big miles to cover. The reason is, this morning we’re swapping bikes for boats to try and catch a glimpse of the Mekong River Dolphin. This creature is perilously close to extinction – fewer than 76 are believed to exist and they can only be found in a short stretch of the river. Amazingly, we all manage to see one of these pale grey, blunt-headed and beakless creatures basking on the water’s surface. Back on the bikes it’s an easy day and we soon arrive in the beautiful Banlung area. 

Day 6: Banlung (40 miles)

A small group of us head out into the mountains to see some of the hill tribes who live completely self-sufficient, insular lives. At first our presence is treated with suspicion, but thanks to our guide we soon break the ice. It’s mainly women, children and elderly people, since the men are still working in the fields. There’s a group of teenage boys taking interest in the bikes and I offer to take one for a pillion ride, but no matter how hard I try he won’t get on. After 10 minutes of trying, I jokingly shuffle to the back of the seat and invite him to ride the bike himself – and he jumps at the chance. I start to explain what he has to do, but he’s clearly done it before and we’re off and accelerating through the gears. By the time he hooks fourth I’m getting worried. He’s giggling like a maniac and I find myself joining in – fear does funny things to a man. He may know how to go up the gears but he doesn’t know how to go down. I eventually convince him to turn around, but he can’t, he just keeps stalling as he’s still in fifth. I get it sorted and we’re off again, back to his tribe who are waiting for us, open-mouthed. 

Day 7: Banlung to Stung Treng (88 miles)

We head off on sweet-running XR250’s, having helped to service them yesterday. The route is only 88 miles but we’ve been promised a long, hard day thanks to the technical terrain and blistering heat. The riding is good, but we’re getting close to the areas worst hit by the recent typhoon. Bridges that are supposed to cross rivers are now submerged so our guides must find alternative routes. We’re faced with serious mud, but the worst thing is the unpredictability. The parts of the trail that look solid can be like quick sand and the really wet bits are deep but at least they’re solid at the bottom. The trick is to follow the rider in front and if they disappear into a quagmire, use a different line. But the best way to navigate the terrain is to stay behind one of our Cambodian guides. These guys have been riding off-road since they could walk and they have an uncanny ability to choose the right line. The extremity of the trails means that our usual support vehicle can’t follow us, so we’re on our own with limited spares. As the sun sets we roll into Stung Treng, a small, but busy town, where white foreigners are a novelty.

Day 8: Stung Treng to T’Beang Meanchey (91 miles)

It’s another early start because we need to catch a ferry. Our route towards Siem Reap means we have the cross the mighty Mekong River. It’s a mile wide here, and provides a lifeline of trade from China into South East Asia and beyond. The boat doesn’t look that big and it’s already half-full with locals, but our guides are adamant we all need to get on, bikes and all. Once we’re on the other side it’s a dusty and twisty road, but compared to what we’ve been riding on it feels like the M1. However, just as everyone starts to gain in confidence, one of the group crashes on a crudely made wooden bridge. Bridges in Cambodia are made from tree trunks. They are generally narrow, with the trees laid length-ways, often with big holes where the tree trunks don’t match up. On a bike they are a serious hazard because there’s plenty of opportunity to get crossed up or lose your front in a hole.

Day 9: T’Beang Meanchey to Kompong Thom via Preah Khan temple (119 miles)

On adventures like this there’s always a day that epitomises the trip – a day that pushes everyone outside their comfort zones, leaving some in tears and some on an adrenalin high. Today is that day. Our final destination is Kampong Thom but the real objective is to explore the 12th century Preah Khan temple at Angkor. This used to be home to more than one million people, but now it’s miles from anywhere, overgrown, and only a handful of people make it there each day. That’s the best part of it. 

With no roads to drive there, you can either walk, go on horseback, ox cart or motorbike. The terrain is awesome but eventually we arrive at the river crossing, and there is no boat. It seems this is the end of the road and our dream of getting to the temple is over, but Cambodians don’t give up that easily. Our guide, Leng wades through the river, which is up to his armpits in places, gets to the other side and disappears. 

A few minutes later he comes back clutching a thick piece of bamboo five feet long, and says: “Put the bamboo through the back wheel and then you two grab each end and life the rear of the bike as high as you can”. He then points to a third person and calls: “You hold the bars and steer the bike. Now go, walk through the river”. 

By keeping the rear of the bike high like this, none of the water gets into the engine via the exhaust or the air box. It’s a slow process but an hour later all the bikes are across and we’re on our way. After another hour we’re on the outskirts of the temple and it’s time to explore. We’re the only people there and it feels all the more special. Banyan trees grow through the buildings and the intricate carvings give an insight into just how sophisticated this lost civilisation was. 

We want to stay longer, but we’ve got to get moving. It’s already 4pm and we need to retrace our steps through the jungle – river crossing and all – to get back to the main road. Three of us decide that we’re prepared to risk a night in the jungle by staying longer and luckily Dara, one of our guides sticks with us too. He’s hassling us to leave but we keep asking for five more minutes until he really puts his foot down and tells us we have to leave. With such a small group our progress is fast, but because we’re pushing, we’re making mistakes.

Dusk is approaching and combined with the dust it’s turning into a hard ride. We catch up with the group sooner that we thought, but it’s not good news, five of the riders have got lost and haven’t been seen for 30 minutes. We’re still 13 miles away from the road and it’s nearly dark. We finally manage to regroup and head off en masse out of the jungle. Visibility is now bad, and the combination of shadows and fading daylight plays tricks on your mind. We eventually get out and onto the dirt road and while some of us are peaking at the adventure, others are broken. We’re physically and mentally drained by the experience, and it’s not even over. We’ve still got 40 miles of riding to get to Kompong Thom. 

The XR250’s have two monster headlights, but a handful of us discover that ours don’t work, and riding on an unmade, wet dirt road without lights is a daunting proposition. We ride side-by-side trying to light the road ahead and after 90 exhausting minutes we make it.

Day 10: Kompong Thom to Siem Reap (112 miles)

After our epic day nine, there are some exhausted riders milling around after breakfast. For the first time we’re given a choice of an easy, Tarmac route up to Siem Reap or a hard route which could take anywhere between six and nine hours. Eight of us, plus guides, elect to go the hard route and within minutes of leaving the others it’s clear it’s going to be another epic day. The route is more flooded than anything we’ve experienced, forcing us to constantly detour to get through. We’re routinely riding through water over our wheels and with no support vehicle behind us the consequences of drowning a bike are severe. 

We pass villages where the residents have been cut off by the flooding, but somehow we manage to get through. The closer we get to Siem Reap, the drier it gets but now we’re faced with bridges you’d be dubious walking across – over two metres high, 12 in wide and wobbly the moment your front wheel touches it. Though rickety, they’re the first signs that we’re approaching the outskirts of Siem Reap: an old colonial outpost that’s known as the gateway to the breathtaking Angkor temples, and the end of our odyssey across Cambodia’s deathly roads – if you can describe some of the routes we’ve taken as roads at all. Ten days after we left Phnom Penh, we’re back fighting the rush hour traffic but elated at finishing our epic journey. We arrive at our final destination, horns beeping, people cheering, and our brushes with danger over. 

Want to see Cambodia by motorbike? WideWorld suggests you get in touch with the experts at CamboEnduro, (01225 33 33 00) who took Michael on his Death Highway odyssey.

You can watch video footage from the trip at http://www.camboenduro.com/movie.htm, and you can also see Michael Guy’s video diary of the journey here