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Day 12
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Khe Sanh → Da Nang
Sunday brought some minor rebellion from our gastrointestinal tracts.
Lord knows we had been challenging them with reckless abandon. Consequently, we got a late start. 9 AM.
What’s more, I screwed up. As stated before, this trip was self-planned and not part of an organized tour. On the way in from Danang to Khe Sanh, I had an overnight stop in between at Hue. My mistake: I failed to plan an overnight stop from Khe Sanh to Danang. It was Sunday morning and we were scheduled to return the bikes in Danang Monday morning and catch an afternoon flight back to Hanoi.
This is why when traveling by motorbike I booked each night’s accommodation via the Agoda app each travel morning. In this case, we had no idea how far with could get in the direction of Da Nang and would have to play it by ear in terms of where to stay. It would be nice to make Da Nang, but we got a late start and … Vietnam by motorcycle.
It was 230 kilometers to Da Nang and we had just finished a 235 kilometer day the day before, which took a serious toll on our bodies. Further we planned to go in the direction of Hue on highway QL1A as I knew motorbikes are not allowed on the CT101 major highway. This would take us to the coastal road and back over the Hai Van Pass to Danang.
The clock was ticking, our bodies hurt, and the gastro rebellion was in a tense truce. Lauren and I looked at each other, shrugged, and saddled up. By now, we were weathered pros. Inwardly, I had to smile. That kid we raised is strong and courageous.
We took off. The roads were straighter. The grade was flatter. Although it was Sunday, there was lots of truck and bus traffic.
Many people were finely dressed for Sunday
Some motorbikes had 3 people, husband, wife, and child, or adult and two children. There seemed to be many happy gatherings with feasts along the road. They looked like fun and I admit being envious.
We made good time, sometimes being able to go 60 kph.
We took breaks often. First at 50 km, then 30, then every 20. We were tired and sore. At one break, we enjoyed pastries I had purchased in Khe Sanh.
At lunchtime, we pulled into a roadside bus stop near Hue. I don’t know how these are organized, but they are large, open air plazas with bus parking and lots of tables under cover, and usually primitive restrooms in the back.
Lunch at a bus stop
Can I buy lunch?
Lauren inquired of the proprietor via Google Translate, “Can I buy lunch?” No was the unexpected answer from the lady.
We were befuddled and instead, I bought a bag of seaweed chips (?)(they were good!) and Lauren bought a pastry. We sat at a table and began enjoying our snacks.
Surprisingly, the lady appeared with a bowl of Pho and place it in front of Lauren! The broth was delicious. The meat, probably water buffalo, was tough but the broth was just the ticket for the gastro hubbub. I bought a Vitamin B drink (hey its Vietnam … just go with it) and Lauren had a coke.
Recharged, we waved and smiled our thanks, mounted our motorcycles, and got back on the road again.
Our next rest stop was an AgriBank ATM on the side of the highway. It never failed that when Lauren removed her helmet to reveal her beautiful blond hair, buses and trunks would honk, adding the occasional cat calls. She didn’t seem to mind and the attention always seemed to be friendly rather than threatening. Getting a supply of cash would prove to be providence later that day.
We independently checked Google Maps – remember it does not always give consistent answers in Vietnam – and concluded we could make it to Danang. It was perhaps 3:00 PM and I was confident enough to book a room in a nice Danang hotel.
Back on the bikes, we headed South along the coast. In an hour or so, we began the climb into Hai Van Pass.
Tire Blowout
Near disaster on the Hai Van Pass
Rear tire self-destructs
Well into the rhythm of the ride, we were going 40 kph or so and my rear tire spontaneously self-destructed in a blowout. There was plenty of traffic, Hai Van Pass being popular as it is on a Sunday, and I was in the lead. Lauren had the action camera running and recorded the event.
When the tire exploded, my bike wobbled and fishtailed. I got my feet on the pavement and managed to keep the squirrely machine upright while I brought it to a stop. My adrenaline and heart were on full defcon 4 alert.
Serendipity happens
Serendipity or Karma would have the blowout happen directly opposite the coffee vendor and his wife who had shared their umbrella with us a week before. The gentleman came running when he heard the tire explode and said, “I’ll help you!”
We walked our bikes across the road to his guardrail. When we took our helmets off, he looked at Lauren and said, “I remember you from the rain.”
For my part, I was glad to be unhurt. When my senses returned, I surveyed our situation. It was 4:15 PM on Sunday, we were 1.5 hours from Da Nang, I thought there was no way of making our hotel or even sleeping indoors tonight, and returning the bikes and making the flight to Hanoi the next day was probably out of the question.
Then, the one Vietnamese person within 100 kilometers I knew said, “My brother-in-law is a mechanic. I will call him.” I nodded yes and smiled, not having any real option besides sleeping on the side of the cliff that night. Serendipity.
The gentleman handed me a coffee and invited me to sit down.
Used to being in charge and in control, I was neither. Lauren was upbeat and positive. Meanwhile, I was stuck on the fatherly guilt thing about getting her into this situation and how was I going to get her out. Looking back, I should not have worried. She is resilient and perfectly capably of handling things like this – no food, no shelter, no transportation, in a very foreign country. I sat in the chair with the beautiful overlook of the sea and Da Nang, concentrated on finding some inner Zen, and let this drama play out.
Brother-in-law mechanic was an older gentleman. He arrived on a Vietnamese scooter with a wooden box of tools on the back. He took stock of my bike with a furrowed brow and had a serious conversation with his brother-in-law. I presented the spare innertubes I hade been carrying. He stood with his hands on his hips for a few moments, nodded yes, and stepped forward to get to work.
First order of business was to get the bike off the ground. I had unloaded the gear. The Honda XR150 is bigger, and much taller than most bikes in Vietnam. It has a side kickstand rather than the rocker stand that Lauren’s bike and most bikes in Vietnam have. An energetic conversation in Vietnamese erupted between the brothers-in-law erupted. The coffee vendor reported the kickstand was a problem. They set off on a scavenger hunt and came up with a log and a boulder used as a jack and a stand. Satisfied, brother-in-law mechanic sat cross-legged and got to work.
Changing the rear time on a motorcycle means removing the drive train (chain), wheel with sprocket, and brake system. It is a non-trivial task. The mechanic was up to it.
After a while, he got the tire and tube off, presenting the tube with a hole blown near the valve stem.
Replacing the tire, wheel, chain, and adjusting the brakes is also no trivial task. He hand-pumped the tire, jumped on the bike, and made a few stops to adjust the brakes. This guy knew what he was doing. Satisfied, he presented the bike to me.
Dolor Amet
What would this cost in the U.S.?
I had been musing about how much this incident would cost on a mountainside, on a Sunday evening, in the U.S.
I handed him two bills that totaled 20x what I had paid for the last flat repair in Hue. I am not publishing the amount because I will get critisized for upsetting the local market. (If you must know, contact me). His eyes grew wide and he was more than pleased. So was I. So was I.
His brother-in-law appeared at his shoulder and said, “Don’t forget me. I helped you too.” I shook his hand warmly and said, “I will never forget you my friend,” and I gave him the same honorarium.
And just like that, our plans that had vaporized 2 hours earlier began to rematerialize. It was perhaps 5:45 PM and we could see the lights of Danang twinkling across the sea. It was 30 minutes and 16 kilometers to our hotel. We could make it!
Side note: when I triangulate my experience with other Vietnam travel adventurers and expats who live there, they report the kindness and resourcefulness of the brothers-in-law to be common in Vietnam. I admire and respect the people of Vietnam. “They seldon disappoint,” is what the owner of Tigit Motorbikes said to me.
Lauren and I repacked our belongings and took off down the mountain with our headlights ablaze.
Whew
Safe Arrival in Da Nang
We found our hotel on the main beach drag in Da Nang. We rolled into the motorbike parking in the basement which was supervised by a no-nonsense security guard. There were maybe 8 bikes in the basement.
Changing quickly into street clothes, we asked the hotel for a seafood restaurant recommendation, and promptly walked there to celebrate. We had been given a reprieve from near disaster.
Dinner was a bright and fun place with long tables that were well-patronized. Dinner seafood was alive in tanks on one side of the restaurant. The beers, Tiger Beer, were warm again but with ice. Perfect. Dinner was seafood noodle shrimp and boiled shrimp. It could not have been better.
Back at the room, it was a shower and bed. What a day! What an adventure!
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