Ubud ATV Adventure and Bali jungle rides
My field trip to Bali Bird Park landed me back in bed. Two more days of water, tea, and juice followed — with juice, tea, and water — left me in dire need of a wine cleanse. Why can’t I appreciate liquor like most people? That would make my current life so much easier. Sure, I can occasionally find my preferred wine selection in Ubud, but thanks to tariffs and import taxes, my reasonably priced $11 bottle back home costs $90 here. U.S. dollars, mind you — not the funny money with all the extra zeros.
Ubud ATV Adventure in Bali — Living Like I’m Dying travel blog by Lary Kennedy
My quest for wine takes me to a wine-and-cheese place ChatGPT recommended. They offer La Crema by the glass, he told me. With my salivary glands bursting in excitement, I literally skipped my way to said restaurant. Scanning the menu hurriedly, failing to see La Crema — or any other California Chardonnay — I went full nuclear on Chat. OMG 14 days without wine and then you taunt me with the promise of my favorite elixir?? I hate you so much right now, I screamed in all caps, slamming him shut before he could reply.
The two very young, very adorable Balinese ladies pouring my somewhat drinkable wine selection ask me where I’m from. Most tourists here are European, with the vast majority from Australia.
Everything is perfect in America. We want to live in America, one said. How do you know about America? I asked. Social media, they answered. Of course.
You live in paradise, my darlings. I want to live here. Everything about Bali is gorgeous… even your lettering is exquisite. One asked my name, then wrote out how it would look in Balinese script. Show me what wolf would look like, I asked. When I saw it printed out, I immediately forgave Chat and asked him to find me a local tattoo artist versed in Balinese Sanskrit.
Tattoo appointment secured and six days left in Ubud, it was time to shift into high gear. Problem is, with Ubud’s traffic, you’ll never get out of first. Los Angeles traffic was bad. Austin, Texas, was worse. But Ubud? Certifiably insane.
One-lane roads where half can’t even fit two passing cars. Add thousands of scooters zipping in and out, plus lowly pedestrians dodging potholes in the same skinny lane… If a car stops, the whole flow stops. No one honks. You just have to be patient, my food tour guide explained while we sat stuck, headed to pick up the other participant for the 15-tastings-of-Bali food tour I’d signed up for.
Oh god. No. No no no. Twenty-five minutes in one spot had me hyperventilating. When we finally arrived, I realized I could have walked to the hotel in eight.
Is it a man or a woman we’re picking up? I asked. Not sure, the first name is Darcy, she said. Oh, a female. Please don’t be a Chatty Cathy. As Darcy slid in beside me, it became immediately apparent Darcy was male. Well, how do you do, haha. The irony wasn’t lost on either of us. Darcy, I said, you and I could never ever get married. We both laughed. All I can say is my new Australian buddy Darcy turned out to be the best part of that dreaded food tour.
Perhaps an ATV jungle trek could wash the bad taste out of my mouth. The next day, my affable driver from Kuber ATV Putu picked me up at my villa. Normally it’s 20 minutes, but traffic’s bad today, he said. OMG, is it ever NOT bad? So Putu, why do y’all have such big cars? That’s all I see — vans or midsized cars. He looked puzzled. Come to think of it, I’d never seen a small car in Bali. One would think smaller would be easier on these narrow roads. But Bali’s economy is tourist-driven. Eighty percent of jobs depend on tourism. Small cars don’t make money. No money, no honey, Putu quipped. Explains the dollar signs in their eyes as I walk past. Now I know how an ATM feels.
Putu was fun to talk to. While waiting with me at the crowded Kuber ATV holding area, he asked what I’d done so far. After a minor coughing fit I admitted, Not much, been in bed. He suggested a coffee plantation after the ride. Well, I’m not much of a coffee drinker, but I do want to try the kaka coffee, I told him. He laughed as I explained how, during the food tour, I saw a fruit stall with durian. OMG no, I can’t stand that stuff, I’d told Darcy and the guide. It tastes like kaka. They found that hilarious, then explained there’s actually a tasty coffee made from poop — only in Bali. Darcy agreed, saying he’d tried it the night before. May as well try it. At least I can say it tasted like shit, hahah.
My name was called, and Putu escorted me to get boots, helmet, and ATV. After a two-minute briefing, our group of seven took off. My need for speed became obvious as I got stuck behind a slow rider. A few people paid for video/photo packages; I declined. At a photo stop, the guide moved me right behind him. He grabbed my camera, snapped a few shots, then revved off with me glued to his tail, leaving the rest behind. What a rush, zipping past rice paddies. Occasionally he’d lean back, snap more action shots, then gun it again.
An hour and a half of pure exhilaration — that’s the only way to describe it. Speeding through rice fields, lush jungle, waterfalls, caves, and razor-thin mud-walled tracks. These are not bunny slopes. This would never fly in the United States — way too dangerous. Which is exactly why today’s ride became one of the funnest days of my life.
And how better to keep that high going than with a cup of crappy coffee?
