Seeing the World From on High.(The Good Life)(Thailand)

Byline: Barbara Koh

Riding through a thicket outside Luang Prabang, I had the best seat in the house: high enough to finger a vivid green bamboo canopy, roomy and flat enough that I could put my notebook down and write. In the middle of a river, I stayed dry and watched a fisherman haul a net and a mother bathe her toddler. Mosquitoes avoided me, thanks to the rhythmic fanning of my ride's ears.

I was sitting atop Mae Kham, a stolid and serene 35-year-old Asian elephant that I bonded with during a recent visit to Elephant Village, a camp 14 kilometers from the Laotian UNESCO World Heritage town. Elephant Village is one of a handful of programs in Southeast Asia that rescues elephants from dangerous work like logging and connects them with tourists, who conservationists say are the key to their survival. Some high-end elephant experiences include posh accommodations and spa services for guests.

For me, an elephant trek had obvious advantages over hiking, biking or paddling through Laos's untamed landscape. I visited during the dry season, when rivers wither and temperatures hover around 32 degrees Celsius, and I have a dread fear of snakes. Besides, there was something irresistible about the prospect of cavorting with a fellow mammal 70 times my weight.

Starting was simple: I climbed a wood platform to elephant level, nearly three meters high, and sidled onto Mae Kham's neck. Directed by the mahout behind me, Kham ambled into the forest. Her gray and calamine-pink mottled ears flapped against my ankles, a gentle thwap, thwap. I felt stable on her broad, wrinkled bulk--except when she descended to the Nam Khan River, pitching me forward 35 degrees. On the way back, Kham found a coconut rind, and I marveled at her ability to cradle it gently in her curled trunk until she got home.

After lunch, I practiced with another elephant, the 40-something Mae Uak, that I was to mount without the wood tower. She bent her knee to receive me; I ...