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Day 7
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Hue → Khe Sanh
During a wonderful breakfast, our host told us via Google Translate that Lauren’s motorcycle had a flat.
The video above shows Lauren, Don, and our hotel manager giving us a motorbike ride to the repair shop. The locals always had our back.
This experience is consistent with our other experiences in Vietnam. The locals are so hospitable and truly extended themselves to connect with and help us. Once again, they seem taken with the young daughter travelling with her father. The woman who was clearly the hotel manager was attached to Lauren, perhaps being sympathetic to what I was putting her through. BTW, the local Vietnamese women often wear masks or bandanas when riding motorcycles to protect their beautiful skin. The young man that assisted the hotel manager helped pack my motorcycle baggage, although we could not understand one another beyond smiles and gestures.
185 km to Khe Sanh
Google Maps indicated it was 185 kilometers and almost 5 hours from Hue to Khe Sanh. Even we knew by then, but experienced travelers know to increase Google Maps time estimates by at least 50% because … Vietnam.
Our first stop was A Luoi, a small town at the start of the Ho Chi Minh highway. We found an AgriBank branch and used my Charles Schwab debit card to get cash from an ATM. The town was quiet, almost seeming deserted. It was bright, sunny, and very warm. Lauren located one of the few open restaurants a few blocks off the main road and we made our way over. We were lunch customers numbers 3 and 4. It was not busy. No English, but we were used to that by now. Food was delicious and we were becoming used to that as well. Vietnam is a treat if you have a curious palate and don’t mind the difference between what you thought you were ordering and what arrives upon the plate.
First Motorcycle Spill
I dropped my bike for the first time in the cobblestone alley by the restaurant, owing to how high the seat was off the ground and how much I had to swing my armored pants leg over to get aboard. It would not be the last time. A man appeared seemingly from out of nowhere to help my raise it. That happens quite often and apparently is no big deal. He disappeared as quickly as he had originally appeared.
Leaving A Luoi we had a long, wonderful ride through fields, villages, and over winding roads. No straight roads in this section. We were amazed by how many animals we encountered on the roads and streets, in town, and in the rural sections.
Lots and lots of chickens. I speculate that refrigeration is at a premium and the chicken supply chain is out walking around the farm or neighborhood until near mealtime. The usual game plan was for the lead motorcycle to spook the flock and the following motorcycle would have to jink and swerve to miss the panicked poultry. I am amazed that we did not massacre a lot of chickens during our trek and I always kept what I figured to be enough cash in my front pocket to overcompensate any farmer whose fowl we might obliterate.
We also encountered lots and lots of dogs. They seemed to be more motorcycle savvy and we experienced only a few close calls. Of course, I never wanted to hit any animal but I figure I could stay aboard the motorcycle the case of a chicken collision, but with a dog or bigger, chances are good of coming off the bike.
Goats and their kids were the next most common moving obstacles. Pigs and piglets were next. Given how much the population likes pork, the pigs are more shy and tended to stay well out of the way. The danger was if someone panicked them, sending them in front of our bikes. It would not have turned out well for either party.
During this segment, Lauren was most often leading, giving me an up close and personal view of near misses with chickens and dogs. If a collision did happen, chances are good I would have also been involved one or two seconds later.
As the kilometers rolled by we were leaving the populated areas behind.
A Shau Valley
We rolled into the A Shau Valley, a place that I held in great reverence. For me, the A Shau is a church or cemetery. Hotly contested during the war, a lot of carnage happened here. I was entering a place that men only a few years older than me entered some 56+ years earlier knowing it meant death. I rode silently with my thoughts honoring those that made this journey as a one-way trip. Riding alongside Lauren, who did not know the history, I imagined her experience to be of a beautiful day in this peaceful and beautiful place.
I share my thoughts of the A Shau in more detail here.
Our bodies began to ache with the miles and time in seats.
We passed Hamburger Hill on the left. It felt like a sanctuary or perhaps a graveyard.
Kids we encounter seem to know a Westerner is coming. Perhaps it is the backpacks, perhaps my bike, perhaps our helmets, or maybe just ripples in the force. In any case, they rush to greet us shouting “Hello” and “What’s your name?.” I always say Godzilla.They laugh and giggle. Some of the boys flip us off. I doubt then mean it in any form of animosity.
Hamburger Hill
We passed Hamburger Hill on the left. It felt like a sanctuary or perhaps a graveyard. My thoughts are here.
As we continue, it becomes more wilderness, jungle really. No more children. Very few adults.
Lots and lots of turns. Leaning one way, then the other with each turn is like riding a swing.
Gas Gauges Start to Matter
The Western Ho Chi Minh road is beautiful. It is billed as one of the best motorcycle roads in Vietnam, and hence in the world.
The hours taught us to learn the behavior of Lauren’s motorcycle’s gas gauge. We would ride for hours with it reading full. Then seemingly all at once it reads half. Then the gauge plunges rapidly toward empty and you better have your affairs in order.
My bike produced less anxiety. It didn’t have a gas gauge. As I learned when flying a small airplane, you just don’t take off on a trip with less than full tank.
The 5 hour estimate given by Google Maps was pure fiction. We rolled into Khe Sanh well after dark, after a wonderful but very LONG day.
I tried to check into the wrong hotel. It was the right shape and looked like the picture on the booking app, but there were no guests in a Hotel California vibe sort of way. Of course there was no English.
Without smirking or ridiculing me, the gentleman that finally came to the front desk led me to the window and pointed to a hotel 200 meters away. I was in the wrong place. I sheepishly tried to thank him.
The Khach San Khang Phuong Luxury (not really) Hotel was the correct one. Parking for motorcycles was in the basement down an insanely steep ramp for which one had to be parachute qualified. By now we had enough confidence in our machines and skills to attempt it with hopes of surviving.
Rough Check In
A stern woman was working the front desk. She took a great deal of time inspecting our passports and visas and seemed to be looking for something wrong with them. Back to the basement to collect our backpacks, then wait for the elevator took forever. When the elevator arrived, it was packed with Russians or Poles all decked out in motorcycle leathers. They rode huge bikes by Vietnam standards and they didn’t seem to talk to one another. Unhappy vibes.
It was late and for dinner, we walked a few hundred meters to a family-run snack place with little tables and chairs on the sidewalk. 2 bags of chips, one chocolate bar, and 3 beers did the trick for dinner and set us back 65,000 Vietnamese Dong, or about $2.65.
We considered the number of kilometers we rode this day, took stock of how it made our bodies feel, and promised to not ride that much or more in a day. Of course, we broke that promise many times over in the days to come.
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