Asia is the largest continent in the world where its cultures are as vast as its size. It had been some time since I’d been there as a young soldier serving along the DMZ with the Second Infantry Division. Would returning to Vietnam as a civilian on a motorcycle provide just as many beautiful memories as the first go around?

• Entering a New World

My girlfriend Bobbie and I had reserved two Honda Winner 150cc motos from Tigit Motorcycle Rental. I wasn’t sure about the smaller displacement, but the benefit of these little workhorses was that parts were plentiful, and they were so easy to work on that it wouldn’t stall the trip much if repairs were necessary. We also got a WhatsApp contact number in the event of breakdowns or other issues. In addition, we purchased a helmet comm system that proved invaluable, saving our lives more than once over the following three weeks.

To complicate matters, I’d just recovered from a hip replacement in which I had a walker for a few weeks. But just for fun, I brought some “unusual” bling to hang on the motorbike, some pretty colorful and noisy stuff. As a result, our hosts would often have us park the bikes inside their homes to lessen the distracting of passersby, which benefitted us from a security standpoint.

With my bike colorfully decked out and a northern direction decided upon, we started the adventure of a lifetime by going in the wrong direction, south. Hoi An was close to Da Nang where we wanted to catch the Full Moon Festival. But the roads had been closed to our Home Stay (Vietnamese version of Airbnb) due to the festival and leaving the bikes outside this perimeter wasn’t an option, nor was walking a quarter mile through the crowds with all our gear. So over the comms I told Bobbie to “Follow me!” clicked the bike into first and drove across the bridge and along the sidewalk while honking my favorite pink horn to alert those in our path we were coming through. We made it to our Home Stay in time to have a well-earned cold Saigon beer before heading out to experience the local cuisine.

• Hoh Chi Minh Trail

By Day Three we’d acclimated and were ready to begin longer rides. We left Hoi An to continue north and visit Hue for a couple days. Along the way we detoured to experience The Hai Van Pass, which according to locals was one of the best motorcycle roads in the country if not all of Asia. As we entered a police road stop waved us over. But it turned out we’d simply meandered into the wrong lane and the officers mainly pulled me over to honk my pink horn and take some photos with me.

We were not disappointed on the ride up the Hai Van Pass. But just as we were gaining confidence in riding in this country, we had a pretty big wakeup call by way of “Terminator” trucks passing recklessly on blind corners. We soon learned to expect Terminators coming at us head on at every corner, and to never fail to have an escape path planned. Thankful we had our helmets and protective gear from America.

These cautionary actions didn’t prevent us from having fun. As we entered Hue, my bike was riding rough. It turned out that my showing off for the locals by performing wheelies and endos had damaged the thing. Using Whatsapp, Tigit quickly found a local mechanic. One thing about the Vietnamese is that they get shit done, and fast. Within two hours he announced, “Bike all fixed, no more bouncy-bouncy.” The shock repaired, we could continue the ride with a few less wheelies along the way.

Waking up well rested in Keh Sahn the next day, we were ready to ride about 270 km to Phong Nha to spend a few days exploring its caves. It wasn’t long before the concrete jungle of Keh Sahn morphed into a natural jungle along a narrow two-way roadway for most this ride with NO traffic. In fact, we didn’t see another car for 100 km at one point. There was nothing but the jungle encroaching into the roads and waterfalls whose mist formed little rainbows. As we whizzed past their light patterns created magical views into the dense lush jungle surroundings. Although we never saw anyone along this section our rule of having exit paths never stopped in the rare event a Terminator would come barreling around a blind corner. Other than being on alert, that stretch of the Hoh Chi Minh Trail was a rider’s dream. It was so isolated, and the hungry jungle seemingly ate everything it could, including sounds.

The mountain roads provided beautiful switchbacks that when summited revealed patchy rain clouds below us eerily floating by before being consumed by the jungle. This part of the Trail was so remote we took every opportunity to keep our water bottles and fuel topped up so we wouldn’t run out. Continuing up and down through mountain passes until the sunlight began to fade, we arrived at a beautiful green valley with water buffalo wandering into our path as the roads straightened and the jungles were replaced with rice fields and farms. The gorgeous surrounding mountains were so steep and high they reminded us of giant green anthills. As we stopped to check and confirm directions to the next Home Stay, we heard echoing Buddhist chants, so loud as they reverberated off the mountains it was impossible to determine their origin. Their sound seemed to fully surround and engulf us to the point of vibrating our motorcycles and our bodies. Incredible!

The beauty of this town was beyond description, leaving no option but to extend our stay a day just to have an opportunity to tour the Buddhist temple during their Moon Ceremony, and explore the many caves, including Paradise Cave, one of the largest in the world. The extra day also provided a much-needed break from riding. Even 150 miles was quite a long day when you factored in having to research the best routes, watch for Terminators, and taking in the culture and sights along the way.

After three days in this magical location, it was time to load up and roar off (as much as our 150ccs could) in a northerly direction. With no defined stopping point it was exciting to just live for the moment and see where the day and fate would take us. This tactic is never a bad way to travel and rarely fails to provide excitement. This instance was no different as we stumbled upon a beautiful eco lodge where we toured their beautiful island tea fields by boat.

It was here we also meet a couple of German motorcyclists traveling in the opposite direction who we shared some great route tips. Amongst which they showed us a video of a rickety old bridge that as they rode over it you could see bamboo under their wheels flipping up in all directions. No question about it THIS would be added to our route. It also fit as it took us through a more isolated area including Pu Luong National Forest, which has some amazing jungle mountain switchbacks and considerably less Terminators.

When traveling, especially by motorcycle, exposure to minute climatic conditions is one of the thrills. There’s no better way to experience the present, except for maybe parashooting. Fully exposed I’ve encounter some of the most extraordinary moments, often closing my eyes to ensure a vivid mental snapshot will never be forgotten.

We planned to wrap our journey having decided not to ride to the Vietnamese “North Pole” due to time constraints. Instead, we chose a more relaxing ride to our Home Stay in Mai Chai. The roads were incredible, some just dirt that was partially covered by avalanches we could just barely scoot over on our little 150cc motorbikes. Every so often we would enter a village where pigs and water buffalo blocked the roads as children came out to honk my pink horn prominently taped to the handlebars.

After returning to the main road and still a few mountain passes away from Mai Chau, we stopped for lunch where some older locals drank what looked like Vietnamese vodka. Being ever curious, I attempted to order a bottle to go. Most of Vietnam has so many dialects that many revert to English as the language of trade. Not here. It took about five minutes and included several charades imitating the drunken locals we’d just seen to obtain the right beverage. No question about it, my performance would be the talk of that local watering hole for some time.

• The Next Moment is Never Guaranteed

With the vodka loaded, the headsets synced, and moving about 50 km per hour along yet another beautiful mountain highway, we took in the cliffs overlooking the mystical valley vistas to our right. Traffic was light as a gal with a pink Hello Kitty plastic helmet zinged by on a scooter, I waved as we do to all riders, and then returned a gaze to the mountain views.

Suddenly there was a Terminator barreling directly at me in my lane. Before I could react, I heard a crash and witnessed a body fly into the air 50 meters ahead of me. The entire world stopped. “Rider down!” I screamed into the headset to Bobbie who was a distance away as I quickly parked and ran over to see if I could help. But there was nothing that could be done. The Hello Kitty girl was still breathing but with traffic stopped I knew that on these mountain roads this scene would only get worse. So I flipped my moto around and rode a quarter mile to meet Bobbie to explain the situation. I then attempted to pull road guard detail while Bobbie went to the accident scene. Road guard duty was not an easy task. I used Google Translator to look up “Stop bad accident ahead,” but even with it the truckers ignored me to the point they were jeopardizing Bobbie and others.

Still wearing my helmet and headset I tried to raise Bobbie to no avail. She was doing what she could to assist the fallen rider, but her helmet was off. With no other option I stepped into the middle of the road using myself as a barrier to force drivers to stop. This ultimately worked and the threat was stopped. Between 45 minutes and a lifetime later an authority arrived, but only in the form of a lone traffic officer on the back of a civilian moped. There was nothing else we could do as sadly the gal had died. Neither of us spoke for the remainder of the ride. And about an hour later we passed an ambulance on its way to attend to the accident.

• Hanoi

With Mai Chau in our rear-view mirrors, we just had one challenge left to overcome, the chaotic traffic of  the massive capital city of Hanoi. This was something we were both mentally prepared for and had watched Youtube for somewhat of an idea what to expect.

Even with the GPS reliably guiding us through the madness we were rerouted several times, got split up, or had to focus on the many distractions that came in every form from every angle. Negotiating the rotaries was like entering a swarm of bees. Upon arriving safely at our moto turn-in point, we dismounted from the reliable scooters that had been our life preservers over the previous three weeks and 1,000+ miles of this magnificent country.

• Reflections

Our Vietnam journey was challenging mentally, physically, and especially emotionally. It reassured us that the division between cultures, and even situations with so-called “enemies,” will heal given time. There was a moment where Bobbie held the lady’s head and helped her in her final moments of life on earth that awoke a distant memory in me. 70 years ago, helping a north Vietnamese would have been considered treason.

Thinking about this gave me hope for the current political division in our own country. That in time this division will be repaired and we will learn to focus on our being one people where the minor differences are indeed that, minor.

 

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Michael Huber, from Augusta, Maine is a remote project manager who has focused his life around travel and managed to work while doing so in five different continents. In his former life, he was a paratrooper with the 82nd Airborne Division. This high intensity lifestyle prepared him for his current life as a moto vagabond where over the past four years Michael has been embracing adventure on his BMW R1200GS and has no intention of returning to a “normal life.” Michael is currently based in the American Southwest.