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Khe Sanh → Phong Nha
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Day 8
This was it, the day I was going to meet the Ho Chi Minh Trail on a motorcycle.
Riding the Western Ho Chi Minh Road, I never felf more alive and more at peace. I was exactly where I wanted to be, relieving the decades-long itch to ride a motorcycle on the Ho Chi Minh Trail.
The serenity of the place is hard to describe. Carving a road from the beautiful mountainous border region is an epic human feat. The fact that it was the nexus in a geopolitical conflict, an asset to one side and a nemesis to the other, made it surreal. We were riding effortlessly through a landscape that would be hell to walk through even if no one was trying to kill you. Yet thousands walked through it and probably mostly at night.
Motorcycle Heaven
The surgery of cutting the road through the limestone and forests was seemingly delicate, leaving on a thin concrete scar. Nature is aggressive and opportunistic, reclaiming everything for her forests, jungle, and streams right up to the roadway concrete. If the war left scars on the landscape, nature has covered them. Green in every direction..
The remoteness, the risks, the challenges, the sense that I and we had to do everything right or face the consequences, and the fact that we were nevermore own our own, cranked up my nervous and sensory systems. I felt alive. Now I realize how much our creature comforts, conveniences, and community regularly suppress that feeling.
On the Ho Chi Minh Road, on a motorcycle, I was exactly where I was meant to be. The road is empty. No. One. Is. There. At least most of the time. Spectacular but remote. Motorcycle perfection. This is where I wanted to experience riding in Vietnam. I am blessed to experience this wonder before the rest of the world discovers it.
In one section, we rode 2.5 hours without seeing another human, save one gentleman with whom we exchanged peace signs as we passed going opposite directions.
The road surface itself consists of concrete slabs poured by hand in segments maybe every 20 feet or so. I understand the concrete surfaces were created in the 1970s with forced labor – being the Vietnamese who fought for the losing side. The highway is only wide enough for a single car – total, not each way. My impression is that the roadway is not banked, or has very little bank, for the hundreds of curves.
There is plenty of pea gravel which is treacherous for motorcycles on curves. Water buffalo and water buffalo dung are additional hazards.
Jungle to the left. Jungle to the right. If you could walk West through it, you would be in Laos in a few kilometers.
Most of the Ho Chi Minh Trail was in Laos (background below).
Not many people have the courage and grit to ride this remote road. My favorite →.
More details of this day are here.
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