Charlie Don’t Wheelie – A Vietnam Motorcycle Adventure: Part 7

By Mike Huber

With Mai Chau being in our rear view mirrors, we just had one challenge left to overcome as riders in Vietnam:  The chaotic traffic in the massive capital city of Hanoi.  This was something we were both mentally prepared for and we had watched videos to somewhat provide us an idea on what to expect, but it would take more than me honking my little pink horn to navigate through this massive Asian city. As we rolled down the CT08 Highway into Hanoi the road didn’t seem too hectic, although I bounced off a car once or twice due to the limited real estate on the road.

Exiting the highway and entering surface streets the traffic increased exponentially, and we were separated several times.  This was exactly why we had brought the Sena headsets, whereas in America we would never have even thought of using these devices. The road was about four American lanes wide, but it was easily fitting 8 to 12 vehicles on average.  The vehicles ranged from Terminators, to cars, to little motos like ours, and everyone was cutting in and out constantly.

Another valuable driving lesson we learned was don’t drive defensively, but instead drive with purpose and intent. In doing so you will fit into the chaos and become part of the herd. Any second guessing yourself, braking, or quick acceleration will cause a ripple effect.  That action will initiate others to stutter step and will most likely result in an accident; this was something we would rather avoid.  Having mounts for our phones was another tip that proved invaluable. We could simply set our directions into it and place the phone in airplane mode to preserve the battery.  Google Maps would remain on and guide us through these crowded streets filled with threats and obstacles.

Even with the GPS reliably guiding us through the madness we were rerouted several times due to the amount of traffic, getting split up, or having to focus on the many distractions that came in every form from every angle.  Negotiating the rotaries was like entering a swarm of bees and trying to fit into our own little pocket without disrupting thousands of others that were searching for the same sanctuary in the lunacy. Upon arriving safely at our rental moto return point, we dismounted from our reliable steeds.  They had been our life preservers over the past three weeks and 1,000+ miles through the concrete and plant jungles of this magnificent country.

Reflections

This journey through Vietnam, as with most journeys, was challenging mentally, physically, and especially emotionally.  Vietnam reassured our feelings that the division between cultures and former enemies can be cured.  Time provides a buffer between the anger and hatred and former times.  One given about traveling is at times it can appear as though you go backward or forward in time.  At that moment when Bobbie held the lady’s head and helped her in her final moments that lesson took hold in me.  Helping a North Vietnamese would have been considered treason 70 years ago, but now it was not only the right thing to do but it a welcome gesture.  Hours after the accident and thinking through it gave me hope that the political division in our country will be repaired.  We are one people and our minor differences are indeed that: Minor.  We sometimes tend to focus on the differences when we should be focused on the similarities.

Take the Iwo Jima photo above.  We were riding by and a lady waved us down.  They were planting a tree and were stuck, so I ran over without even taking off my helmet as it started to fall.  We fixed it.  A tree grows in Vietnam, and we helped.

I hope all of you reading this series enjoyed the read and were able to take something positive away from our experiences in Vietnam.  I appreciate your support and you reading my writing. Thank you and be safe.


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Charlie Don’t Wheelie – A Vietnam Motorcycle Adventure: Part 6

By Mike Huber

Exposure is one of the greatest thrills when traveling by motorcycle.  You feel every drop of rain and every cold or warm front you move through, experiencing each second by second.  There is no better way to experience the present, except for maybe exiting an aircraft in flight.  Being a motorcyclist and embracing that exposure allows the most beautiful moments.  During these moments I sometimes close my eyes for an instant to ensure my mind has a vivid snapshot that can be stored deep within and recalled for the rest of my life. With this beauty at times there comes a price, though, and at times that price can be death.

We were almost wrapping up our journey, having decided not to ride to the Vietnamese North Pole due to time constraints caused by our meandering travels.  Instead, I chose local mountain roads I found while planning our trip.  This made for relaxed riding and and easy return to our Home Stay in Mai Chau. The roads were incredible, some just dirt half covered by avalanches that barely allowed scooting the little 150cc motorcycles through. Every so often we would enter a village where pigs and water buffalo blocked the roads as children came out to honk the horn prominently taped to my handlebars.

After returning to the main road, just a few mountain passes away from Mai Chau, we decided to break for lunch.  There were older locals drinking what looked like a Vietnamese vodka.  Being ever curious about local drinks I attempted to order a bottle (or two) to go.  This took more than a few minutes.  Vietnam has so many dialects that many revert to English as the communication platform, but not here.  It took about five minutes and included several charades imitating the drunken locals we had 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.

As I loaded the vodka bottles carefully into the plastic side panniers, we synced up the headsets and fired up the motos.  The narrow two-lane highway was stunning.  There were beautiful mountain views and sheer cliffs to our right where we could overlook the vistas and still see lingering fog far below us in a mystical valley.  Traffic was light that day, but we were alert for Terminators (oncoming trucks barreling around blind corners) and we were still cautious.

Suddenly, a female with a pink Hello Kitty plastic helmet zinged by me on her scooter. I waved to her as we do to all riders and glanced again to look at the mountain views.  I took a deep breath as I knew this would be one of those snapshot moments I wanted to remember forever. I didn’t realize how right I was.  In the very next moment, a Terminator was barreling directly at me in my lane, and I had no escape with the cliff on my right.  Before I could react to anything I heard plastic crunching and witnessed a body fly into the air 50 meters in front of me.  The entire world stopped for a moment as the crescendo of a full orchestra built and screamed in my head.  Then it suddenly stopped and the silence became the quiet sound of a gentle wind.

“Rider down!!” I screamed into the headset to Bobbie.  I parked the bike and ran over.  The female rider was still breathing, but there was nothing that could be done.  With traffic stopped I knew that on these mountain roads this scene would just get worse.  I attempted to tell the driver to call 911 knowing that most of these countries don’t have emergency services, but also knowing he wouldn’t need to read my charades to know what action to take. I flipped my moto around and drove up a quarter mile to meet Bobbie, and  I explained that I would pull road guard detail and for her to go to the accident scene.

Road guard duty was not an easy task on that foggy mountain highway in Vietnam. I remembered I had downloaded the Google Translator after being pulled over and quickly looked up “Stop bad accident ahead,” but even with using Google Translator the trucks continued to ignore me to the point they were jeopardizing Bobbie and others at the scene.  They continued to speed toward the horrific situation ahead.  Some vehicles were even going off the road to the left to avoid the accident or the cliffs after ignoring my warnings.

Still wearing my helmet and headset I shouted several times to Bobbie that there was an incoming vehicle but to no avail.  She was doing what she could to assist the downed female rider, and she didn’t have her helmet on. With no other option I physically walked into the middle of the road using myself as a barrier to force each vehicle to stop (I hoped).  I wanted them to realize the accident they were about to encounter. This action ultimately worked and the threat of new vehicles incoming to the accident site stopped.

Sometime between 45 minutes and a lifetime later authorities arrived on the scene, but only in the form of a traffic officer on the back of a civilian moped.  At this juncture it was time for us to depart.  There was nothing else we could do, the female rider had died, and it was time for us to leave. We slowly continued our ride down the pass and neither of us spoke for the remainder of the ride other than my continued warnings on the lowering mountain switchbacks into the fog of Mai Chau Valley. After 45 minutes of riding an ambulance passed us heading to the accident.  Still not saying a word, we knew there was no rush for the ambulance at this point.


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If you missed earlier installments of the Vietnam ride, here they are:

Charlie Don’t Wheelie – A Vietnam Motorcycle Adventure: Part 1 
Charlie Don’t Wheelie – A Vietnam Motorcycle Adventure: Part 2
Charlie Don’t Wheelie – A Vietnam Motorcycle Adventure: Part 3 
Charlie Don’t Wheelie – A Vietnam Motorcycle Adventure: Part 4 
Charlie Don’t Wheelie – A Vietnam Motorcycle Adventure: Part 5