Start of trip || < || >

For details of the places I visited in Vietnam along the Ho Chi Minh Trail, with GPS Coordinates, see my book Vietnam Caves.

For details on motorbiking in Vietnam and Cambodia, from buying and selling a motorbike, to border crossing, see my book Motorbiking Cambodia & Vietnam.

 

Today was a hard day, with some tough decisions, blind trust, calculated risks, and mis information, ending, in a life altering experience.

Vuon and I shared a three bed, room last night. While I was blogging, he watched the local equivalent of American Idol. He informs me that one of the ladies competing is from his village, that we are currently in. Then he surprises me by informing me that he competed as well, and came in the top 100. I am like no way, and he sings a little for me, very good. He now and again sings for money, to help raise his children, as his business is now only 4 months running, started from nothing. What an inspiration.

We are on the 4th floor, and head up to the fifth to get breakfast, the view is awesome.

A young waiter comes over to get our order. We have two choices, egg with rolls, or meat and noddles. Patric just cannot decide. I eventually look over, and see how much the waiter has aged.

So i ask if they can do eggs with meat and rolls, and they agree.

Very tasty breakfast.

We pay our bills, then do the mandatary photo shoot.

We head out to the helicopter museum, where we will split up with me going up north and Patric and Vuon going back down to Hoi An via Hue. I can see Patric’s heart is pulling for he actually initially wanted to do a Hoi An to Hanoi trip, and we talked the night before of him possibly joining me. However Vuon has other trips planned, and needs the bikes.

Vuon is in front and Patric second, with me taking the rear as we pull out of the hotel. The bike pulls strong, and i am happy, for Jon said that this part of the road that I will do today is the best in Vietnam, and yesterday was spectacular.

We come to a side road that they go up, and I decide to snap a picture of the statue located there.

Vuon and Patric is now a distance away, and I gas the bike to catch up. However, my heart sinks to my shoes, there is no power. I limp on, seeing them turn into a place up ahead. Catching up, it is with a heavy heart that i get off my bike. I inform Patric that my bike has troubles, and try as best as I can not to dampen his experience of the museum, but it is hard to do. We go over what could be wrong as we tour the museum.

The museum was an American airbase, that they used during the Vietnam war. There is some bunkers, three armored vehicles, a display area for weapons and maps, a large airplane, two helicopters, and some other stuff.

I know people that should have this sign around their neck.

As we exit, Vuon joins us and I inform him of the bike giving problems, he informs me that there is a Yamaha dealer nearby that he can take me to. With a lump in my throat I follow him to the dealer. Patric and I have already discussed my options.

I can either stay in town if it is a big problem. Limp behind them to Hoi An and sell the bike there. Sell the bike where i am, and take a bus back. Or try and make the next town on my list, chancing being stranded in nowhere land.

We arrive at the dealer, and it seems to be a big place. The mechanic revs the bike a bit, and then says he thinks he knows what the problem is. To my relieve, he does not start tuning the carb. Voun translates, and first they say it will take a day to look for the problem. This breaks my heart. I ask what is wrong, and the response is that they will have to open the engine and see what is wrong. Now my hopes are shattered as I was hoping they would know what the problem is right away. With them giving the normal answer of wait a day and we will just have to open up and see, I lose confidence in them. However Patric is hopeful.

My response is that it is not the engine, for the problem comes and goes so cannot be worn rings or burnt valves. Vuon translates, and the mechanic now responds that it will take an hour to fix and is probably the carburetor. A little relieved, I watch them put the bike on the exam table.

Bike being inspected

The mechanic removes the seat and panel to get to the carb, and then removes the top.
Ladies behave.

These small bikes, have a needle jet carburetor. When you open the throttle, a piston moves up, pulling a needle out of a jet. As the needle is pulled out, more gasoline can now pass through. On many bikes, the throttle cable is directly linked to the piston, however, on this bike, the piston is vacuum controlled. As you open the throttle, it activates a intricate vacuum system, that pulls the piston up depending on engine load and revs. This is to conserve fuel. However, something is wrong with the vacuum system.

The piston has scuff marks on, and the mechanic is under the impression that the piston is sticking, so he gets sanding paper to polish the piston up. However, i check the piston, and the tube inside the carburetor where the piston goes, and both are smooth already. Thus i have my doubts that the piston sticking is the problem, and more suspect the vacuum control system. For why would the piston sometimes stick and sometimes not, and always on the same spot, and not break free on high engine revs with lots of vacuum (provided there is vacuum to start with.)

By this time Patric and Vuon have to leave, and we say our good byes.

The mechanic soon have the carburetor back together, and also changes the engine and gearbox (final drive at the wheel) oil for me.

The bike revs nicely, and 140K vnd later, i am on the road. The road passes the helicopter museum we were at, and soon changes from a tarred road to a cement road. I am a little disappointed, as cement roads are not as smooth as tarred roads here. The block sections are in many places uneven, giving you a bumpy ride, spoiling what would otherwise yes be the best road in Vietnam.

I round a turn, and a long uphill greats me, so i throw afterburners on, nothing. No power. I climb the hill at 30km/h. All the time trying different things like switching the ignition on and off, rapidly opening and closing the rattle, actually stopping, switching the bike off, starting and going again. All for nought, still no power. At the top I stop with my heart dragging behind the bike in the road. As I stop and switch the bike off, a trucks comes and runs over my heart while I look at the mountain pass ahead.

I am now only a few miles from the town I stayed in last night. I already arranged with Voun that if needed he can call the hotel and arrange for me to stay longer. The Yamaha dealer have parts and should be able to eventually fix it, how long I do not know. So I run through my options.

Behind me is a few miles to a large town where I can get help. I can have the bike fixed but it would mean I will have to can today as it would be too late to go for the next town when they get the bike fixed, if they actually can get it fixed. I can go back to the town, and put the bike on a bus with me back to Saigon and sell it, canning the trip, so close to the end. I do not have the funds to rent a bike for such a long ride nor the money for hotels to start over with another bike.

In front of me is over 200 km of mountain passes, remote, with no large towns, and what I have been told no gas stations (apparently not even the small roadside sell by the bottle stations), no mechanics, no help. Few travel this road so you can be stuck in the blazing sun for hours. Yes the bike runs, but at 20 to 30km/h uphill, if there are a lot of uphills and twists, I will not make the next town in time before night fall. I also do not know if the bike will continue running for such a long distance as I do not know what is wrong.

I take a deep breath, and make my choice. I would really have liked to race though this section of Vietnam. Gunning the bike through the turns, having a blast, but that is a forgotten dream now. With a small tear in my eye, I start the bike. I check for traffic that might take me out as I pull into the road, then head onwards. 20 to 30 km/h mountain passes it is then. Even if I have to finish this section in the dark, or sleep next to the road, I will not back down. You can slow me down, but not stop me.

The view partially makes up for the lack of speed, and soon I accept what I cannot change, and deal with what I have. I get between 20 and 35km/h uphill, and up to 70km/m downhill if I am lucky. So, I recon this is what it would be like if I had a pillion passenger, and we had two large backpacks on the bike. Thus I decide that I will now be in a position to say exactly how long it would take to do this trip two up.

Due to the slow speed, I actually now really have the time to see the countryside. I pass a few locals, that have their houses build a short distance from the road. At one point I pass a wedding, but decide not to stop and take pictures as they may take it as rude.

Then suddenly the shit hit the road, literally, there is cow dung all over.

I check to the side, and there are a few farm houses, so this must be their crossing for their cows. I negotiate the land mines, then move on.

But not long after that, the bike suddenly stops. I check, and find a small pebble in front of the wheel. I have been enjoying the view, and now turn my gaze to the road. O, a few more pebbles are in the road, I guess I will have to go around then. 🙂

Pebble in the road stopping my bike.

More pebbles up ahead.

As I look down I can see a town far below, and soon come to the road leading to the town. I contemplate going down and looking for a mechanic, but decide to soldier on.

town below in the distance
road to town below.

Down the road someone tries to put a stick in my spokes, but they fail and I zoom past (at a blistering 25km/h).

The views just keeps amazing me as the miles pass by.

I come to a small town, an see a bus quickly on loading passengers. So this is the local bus station. I look around, no gas station, hotel, restaurant, or mechanic, I move on.

Not long out of this town, I see some nice views, and snap a few pictures.

as I take this picture the bus I saw earlier passes me.
I was afraid that the bus would catch up to me, and my bike be to slow, but in fact the bus is slower than me. The bus does 20km/h up the hill, and I can do 25, not enough to pass safely. So I sit behind the bus, knowing that my trip on the road is now just going to be longer.

About 10 minutes on, the bus slows down for a pothole or two, I bite my teeth and gun the bike through the potholes past the bus. I feel sorry for the bike, but now I am in front of the bus. At least, if I break down ahead or run out of gas, I have a bus behind me somewhere that I can maybe bribe to put my bike on.

By now I have experimented with the throttle, and realize that I have only 1/6 throttle. I can open the throttle up to 1/6 of full throttle, and she responds, but anything more and there is no reaction at all, regardless of actual road speed or engine revs. So I decide that yes the piston must not be moving up, and that it is most probably not the piston sticking, but the vacuum control system that has a problem.

To my amazement, I see a few locals drinking under a tree by a shop. I slam on the brakes and head over. They actually sell sodas and stuff here. So I take a rest and enjoy some ice tea. After my rest , I take on the hills at my warped warp speed.

Feeling refreshed, I crawl on. The miles fly by, in slow motion.
I go up another hill, and the bike sputters, I manage to get to the top and free wheel a section down. The gas gauge is just under 1/4 tank. I stop and check the tank, empty, I just ran out of fuel. So I throw the 5L that I have spare into the bike’s tank. I look back and see a distance marker, 123km to the town I just came from. Even with the slow speed, I have only managed to do 123km on a tank of gas. I have now a full tank of gas left, but that is it. I did see a gas station about 15 km out of town when I started this morning, so that is 108 km back, I know I can make it. I recalculate my route to my destination, over 110km. I cannot tell exactly how much, for my map do not have a road to the town, it just list the town’s name a fair distance from the main road. Also, if I get lost with side roads trying to get to the town, it will just add extra miles that I do not have the gas for.

123 km to the town I came from.

Again, I am at a crossroad. I was told I would only need an extra liter of gas for the trip, I have 5liters, and it seems not to be enough. I know I can make it back, and get more gas, then try again tomorrow, or maybe can the trip. Up ahead. I have no idea what awaits me.

So I do what I do, keep going. My reasoning is that the information given to me must be wrong. Just because other people have not seen any gas stations, does not mean there are none, my reasoning comes from seeing the occasional local flying past, with scooters either like mine (but working) or similar. And they are nor carrying extra gas cans. So somewhere they must get gas. In Cambodia they sell gas on the roadside from 1L bottles, or if you are lucky pump it out if a 210 gallon drum. They have a glass tube, that shows the amount of gas in liters. A person pumps the tube full for the amount you want, then drains it into your gas tank. I also reason that life is life. And I cannot believe no one has not taken the opportunity of opening a gas station on this road, nor that not one bike or car breaks down in over 200 km. There must be a mechanic and gas station somewhere, and there must be some kinda restaurant somewhere, I mean, we all get hungry, have to use the loo, and any car or bike can break down at any time.

I have been looking around for large drums, but have not seen one. Then I spot a bike with a trailer behind. On it is four 20 L cans of gas. My heart sinks a little. For that means the locals keep they own gas. But then I decide that if I have to, I will buy gas from a local. Even if we have to siphon it out of their bike’s tank.

About 15 or so km after refueling, something strange catches the corner of my eye as I pass another lone standing house. At first I want to carry one for it is a nice downhill and I need the speed for the uphill, but I stop, turn around and go back. I stand in astonishment and look at what is in front of me. The thing looks nothing like what I have seen before, and only when a little kid comes out to operate it, do I realize that I am right.

a manual gas pump

I feel very proud that I now know where the only gas pump on this road is. A local women also pulls up, selling drinks. I buy two of my favorite ice teas from her as a child pumps 5 liters into the glass tube, then fills my spare jug.

With my gas situation sorted, I move on more confidently. I am not sure where I am going, but I will get there, maybe just a bit slower than I wished for. I give the bike a stroke as we crawl up another 10% incline at 20 km/h. Even though the bike has been giving trouble, it has not once left me stranded alongside the road, but kept going. I have managed to form a bond and trust with the bike, that like me, even when the going gets thought, the bike would keep going until the end.

About another 6 km on, I come to another small town. Either it is because I am desperate, or have good eyes (been told that 🙂 ), or because I am crawling through town, but I manage to spot 6 more gas stations, two mechanic shops, two restaurants, and what looks like a small guest house.
As I pass, some of the locals wants their picture taken.

The restaurant owner next to me waves me in, showing a menu. My stomach pleads with me to go in, I am starving. But the road ahead is to uncertain and still to much to cover, so I decline lunch.

as I move on I see the destruction deforestation is doing.

So I concentrate on the nice views.

a house, now forgotten.

I am now about 30 km from the turn off that leads off to the town I want to be in. Although that turn off is not marked on the map. The map just shows the name of the town some distance away from the main road. I go by trust that the road will have a sign saying the town’s name. (When I later get online with the online maps, I see the roads, and realize I like normal for me, took the hard way 🙂 )

The road gets more even, with longer stretches end easier turns.

On one of these downhills, the bike sputters, and then suddenly there is power. Thank you, even though a bit late.

Now I hammer the bike, making up lost time. I am reaching 90 to 100, the bike’s top speed, on most of the straits. Some of the corners I slide the little scooter. Amazing how much this little Yamaha rides like its big brother.

Suddenly I come to a crossing, and have no idea where to go. The town is on the map to the right, but the board does not name the town right. It names caves and other tourist attractions to all angles. I decide to turn right, thinking that at least I am getting closer to the town.

The rout is at first very nice, and scenic.

I come to an awesome arch in the road, and stop a distance away to take a picture. There is a boom, and I think it is just another truck checkpoint like so many others that you get outside most towns. So I blast past. As I look back, I realize it is a ticket office for a national park I am entering. The guards are playing a board game and do not even care about me, so I continue on.

Now the road gets crap, with potholes, uneven surfaces and bumpy. I come behind a tourist van, going extra slow. The road is not wide enough to pass them, so I eat dust. Suddenly, we hit peak traffic and get a traffic jam.

The van pulls over for people to take pictures, and I grab the opportunity to pass it.

About 16 km later, I come to a run down road, with some buildings far in the distance. I hope it is the town, or edge of it as the map shows it to be further on. I stop a local passing by, and show him the town’s name on the map. He just shrugs his shoulders and move on. I decide to take the road.

As my luck would have it, it starts to rain, and I go for the first building with a roof, that turns out to be a guest house. The owner comes out and asks if I want a room. I ask how much. $15, but they have no wifi and there is nothing near them. I say it is too expensive. He is like okay, $10. As I ponder if I should accept, he hops on his bike in the rain, then indicates for me to follow.

I follow him, and he takes me to another guest house. There he argues with the owner, then she addresses me and say, okay $10 for a room. The place is nice, and have wifi, but she wants me out the next morning at 8 because she is closing the place to go to a wedding. I want to see the caves, so they direct me to another hotel across the road. There I meet an English bloke that runs and owns the place. He informs me $8 for a dorm bed, I decline as I do not do dorms unless I know the people. I get directed to yet another hotel, that have a restaurant on site, can do tour trips, and looks good. They are however pricy, at $15 a room that includes breakfast. However they accept cards (she shows me her credit card machine) so I take it.

The owner only has a room with two double beds for the first night, and will then move me to a one double bed, room the next day. Same price so cool with me.

As I push my bike into their garage, I give it a stoke. The bike has done well, but needs a doctor. I ask the owner if she knows a mechanic, and she points to the shop next door, informing me it is her mechanic. I have now confirmed I am in the right town, the map is just off, and decide I will limp to the caves tomorrow, then look at the bike the day after. A tour is from $40 to over $100 for from one day to 6 days guided in the caves. But you can go yourself for $6 entrance fee for one day unguided at the main cave. So with the money I save by going unguided, I will spend on a room for an extra day to look at the bike.

I go down for dinner, but her chef is not there, so I go across the road and write a bit, but have to come back as he has no internet. As I write and upload pictures, two blokes on Honda wins that I saw in the town I came from last night, pulls into town. It is now more than two hours later, and they left early the morning before I even went to the helicopter museum, and still I have managed to beat them by more than 2 hours with a broken bike. I guess my standard of riding is a bit tough for others.

Tomorrow I am going to see some caves.

Only tomorrow, would I realize how much today have changed my life.