Friday, November 2, 2018

The Lead In & Arrival


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The days leading up to the trip have been so hectic. With months to prep I waited until the last week to truly get organized. I waited too long to get shots, so I wasn't able to get the vaccine for Japanese Encephilitis. "Just don't get any mosquito bites." Says the doctor.  Ok.

The rest has been crazy. Without Jen I would be fucked.  She helped me stay calm. She made lists, schedules, and food. I'm an idiot for putting all this off, and it gave me so much anxiety that I cried a few times.  I also lashed out in anger while driving and punched the seat really hard a few times while screaming at myself. Driving around in circles between hardware stores was rough.

I should have checked Nick's gear list weeks ago and modified it for my needs. Some parts and gear are harder to get. Jen even drove to Berkely to get a spare derailleur hanger! Berkely! She did stop for coffee, and she loves Berkely, but isn't she incredible? She's amazing. I owe her a lot of flowers, milk tea, movie dated, fancy dinners, and Berkeley chill days.

I haven't let myself get excited about this trip. I've been too scared, nervous, busy, stressed to be happy. Jen and I have allowed ourselves to eat nice breakfasts so we can start the day off in a positive mood. Then it's run run run to get shit done. The nerves have been hard to deal with,  but we got it done..... at the last minute.  Holy shit! WE got it done.

Arrival

Somehow I goofed up my Vietnam visa. I cut my visa in half and glued it into my passport, which turns out to be a bad idea. I was pulled aside by a few officers and they kept repeating to me "Wrong visa." OK, then what's the solution? Is it wrong or did I just invalidate it by gluing it into my passport? After minutes of waiting in question as the officer behind a desk had my visa, I was given a new visa and charged $50. At least this delay gave Nick time to gather our bike boxes.

Outside we found our driver who took one look at our bike boxes and paused, unsure of what to do. Then his buddy came over and both started laughinhg. No way was this stuff fitting into his car. I had called ahead to notify them that we'd have bikes with us. I guess that info didn't get passed along. After more laughing and a call to our hostel in Hanoi, the drivers figured it out. Each driver had a name card for their passengers, and the solution was to simply swap cards so we'd have a new driver. We loaded the bikes into the van and headed into town.

On the ride from the airport I was stoked to see motorbikes stayihng in the right lane. It looks to be designated for bikes only. I'm not sure what kind of freeway or highway this is, but I could ride this.
At Nexy Hostel we checked in and built our bikes right there in the loby with other guests walking by with curious eyes. Some were pretty surprised to hear of our plans. Most think it's pretty rad. Ya, we're pretty much badasses.

We settled in then hit the street to have our first meal in Vietnam. We were pretty hungry so we found a spot only a few blocks away. Oh. I was swindled by the donut lady first. 150,000 Dong for a bag of donuts. That was almost all my cash. Shit. We rounded the block to avoid doubling back, and I grabbed a new batch of foreign bills. Oh well. I made her week. Dumb American. I should have only spent 12,000 Dong. I was tired from travel and in culture shock, so Nick and I brushed it off and enjoyed our first of many bowls of pho.

Totally spent by the last 24 hours, we were in bed by 6:30. The 14 hour time change is rough.

Thursday, October 25, 2018

Day 23: Krông Nô, Lăk, Đắk Lắk Province, Vietnam

I didn't sleep much last night. I think our coffee with Piere and Page was past my 3:00pm caffeine cutoff. I tossed and turned like the slab of pork we had for dinner last week spinning on a motorized rotisserie.  And my dreams were a TV controlled by an ADHD insomniac: surfing with my friend Nicki, whales breaching so close we almost become lunch and say hi to Geppetto. Houseboating on Lake Powell but it looks like we're in the Sierra. Fishing with a big bird's nest of a knot in my line. Ex-girlfriend Kendra singing in the Yukon. Move the houseboat or stay? I want to move but Vinny's friends want to stay.  Driving from Pismo to Moro Bay because dad forgot his favorite blues CD. Stop at SESLOC. U-turn. Forget about the CD. Food trucks everywhere, but they're on trailers like tanks! Doritos truck driving crazy with its rear door open. Free chips! Nope. Just empty cardboard boxes. Putting my bike together behind Vinny's surf shop. He has a surf shop? Grab the wetsuits. Which one is Nicki's? Did she already grab it? I'm fishing again, but now at Nacimiento after jumping across a trench. (Why am I fishing? I hate fishing.) Walking through a Newport Beach carnival with Vince and Nicki. I think it's Newport.  Looks like a circus. Why is Nicki here?

I open my eyes to see Nick is up. "What time is it?"

"6:45." Shit. I guess I'm up now. Sleeping in isn't happening. Then the music starts at 7:30. It's "Love Potion No. 9" but in Vietnamese.

Today started like most good days do: two coffee packets and two bánh mì. We have snacks so with bellies full of local fuel we jam down the hill and start the ride. We tried to dry out our wet riding gear with an improvised clothes line between the bars on the high window and the door jam. It didn't work. The humidity in the room left everything damp. Shit. No problem. We just strap the wet stuff on the outside if our bags and rewear our wet jerseys. It's a hot day so it'll dry out soon enough.

Still, my legs felt ok enough to follow Nick's pace and not fall behind. I'm feeling like normal again after that bout with food poisoning.

60 km into our ride the road splits and the hills begin. I stop at a mechanic shop and give my tire pressure a hefty boost. I'm not dealing with sloppy tires again. The hills are steep enough to get us breathing heavy, but not long enough to beat us down. Nick always pulls ahead on hills, but I catch him on the descents.

My power is shit lately. Or I'm just not as strong as Nick. My ego says I'm off my game, but that's nonsense.  The hills come no matter what. Luckily were rewarded with epic views of coffee farms, lush green hills surrounding vast expanses of green rice fields, clouds off all shapes and densities sprinkled across the sky creating shadows that race across the landscape. The wind comes and goes, and when it goes the heat digs into my skin through my jersey and hinders my attempts for for deep breaths of cool oxygen.

Strangely, the ratio of up and down is just enough to keep spirits up and allow us to embrace the challenges. It's a great ride. Fulfilling. Empowering. Each hill is a victory and a new view of the gorgeous country side.

Trash levels here are way less than the previous days where we'd ride by what felt like kilometers of trash piles. Here, it's all beauty with a sprinkling of discarded Red Bulls, plastic bottles, plastic bags, and some unfortunate soul's underwear. The scenery still wins here even though it's hard to lift my gaze from the front tire on steep sections.

Locals along this route are mostly farmers and live in very rudimentary houses. Some are build from basic wood timbers and simple siding. Some are small shacks. Others though are brick with concrete and reflect the early French colonial style left by the years of occupation. At least the front facades do. The tall skinny structures leave the sides blank with a couple small windows to break up the sea of concrete. It's crazy too the change in living conditions over the course of a single day's ride. It doesn't look like communism is working well out here.

With 12km to go we arrive at a gorgeous lake with a cluster of floating homes on each side of the bridge. I desperately want to jump in, but something tells me the water may not be safe. Afer a lot of thought I settle for dipping my feet in. That was a hard, but safe decision.

102km for the day is not bad. Our initial goal was to hit our required average of 70 ish kilometers, but we were enjoying the ride and feeling pretty good. Nick spots a great nhà nghỉ when we roll into town and we call it a day. Time for a shower and dinner.