Our German mate Andreas (who we met yesterday while sheltering from the rain under a petrol station roof) had informed us that the road we were on was actually the Ho Chi Minh Highway. Who knew?! The only signs we'd seen said AH17, but in hindsight, maybe they're waiting for the road to be sealed before the revered leaders name will be plastered all over it. I've got bets on the roadworks being finished in 2056.
The road was a dream for the first 50km, and we passed Jan, a Dutch cyclist making his way from Bangkok to China, what a dude! That may be our next adventure, if we can find a way to bungy-cord a couch onto the seat of a bicycle.
The locals are quite good at strapping things on... This grandad probably wondered why I tailed him for ages, but I was trying to work out how to take photos on the iPad while riding along.
The sleepy town of Dak To (pronounced Duck Toe) gave us our first peek at the minority peoples' tall-rooved buildings. Just to the back of it we saw a couple of army tanks ... Our first 'in-place' reminder of that horrific war. Reading that night, we learnt that Dak To was perhaps the most deadly and bloodied of all conflict in what the locals call the American War. Thousands died fighting for possession of Hill 875 in the Dak To area. The local plaques and descriptions tell of events from a perspective that we've not really been exposed to before. The North went on to win the long-fought war, with the unified Vietnam becoming a communist state. Multiple times we've ridden into a town, and the street has been lined with the red starred Vietnamese flag, interspersed with the red hammer and sickle flag. Multiple locals have shared their view on politics in a very hushed manner, aware that the government's 'ears' are all about them. How they'd love a chance to vote.
Our peaceful ride north had many corners that opened out into views like these hills. Crazy to ride along imagining shells exploding all around, gunners opening fire, and tanks blitzing through the landscape. And that was the Americans, the guerrilla warfare was all about surprise and luring the enemy into the jungle where the locals had the advantage. It's mind-numbing to read about that part of history.
Villages became pretty scarce, especially at the time we were both needing a wharepaku! Normally we'd be up for a behind-the-tree stop, but the book we're reading called 'A Short Ride in the Jungle: The Ho Chi Minh Trail by Motorcycle' by Antonia Bolingbroke-Kent, speaks of up to 800 000 tons of UXO (unexploded ordnance) to this day remains live, and pollutes 15% of Vietnam's land surface. Since 1975 more than 100 000 Vietnamese have been killed or injured by UXO and are still dying every week. At present the Vietnamese government spend $100 million USD a year on clearing UXO, optimistically aiming to solve the problem within 100 years. That's a lot of information that impacts lives on many levels. It also means we aren't gonna venture far off the obviously beaten tracks. No squatting roadside for us!
The most remote houses were made of sticks and mud, and had super happy kids that shouted out indecipherably happy words as they waved to us. They were so unbelievably excited, and all crowded around when we stopped to cover our packs from the onset of drizzle. The kids sprinted off as soon as the iPad came out though ... Here's the photo of the ones that were too slow to escape!
Riding within about 5km of the border with Loas, we rode into a chilled mist. It seemed so apt. That magnificently lush jungle was in its element! I think I saw a new version of green too, so vibrant, yet dense. For me it was the most stunning scenery of the ride so far. Bry exhibited her best patience when I pulled over for a 106 photos, and the waterfall photo below may have been the limit, or, may have been fortuitous ... but a 'hurry up' order was given to me while in the middle of a two laned bridge, and ten seconds later a massive bus came hurtling around the corner as it overtook a large truck. Both lanes were oversized. Hmmm! I inhaled quite suddenly, as if that extra inch may help (we need to create a sarcasm font!). It was pretty tight, and needless to say I took no more photos till we got into our hotel that night!
What a big ride! Pleiku to Hoi An, 330ish kms. Took from 8:30am till 6pm, and through lots more roadworks. That shower felt so refreshing, but even after a good scrub in the shower, an apology was needed to the hotel cleaner for how much grime still came off onto both of our towels (and dual sided too!). Who designed white towels anyway?!
Interesting stories. .keep it up Miss Sarah..
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