Tag: Motorcycling in Vietnam

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.

Like this story?  Want more?  Please click on the popup ads!

Never miss an ExNotes blog:

Charlie Don’t Wheelie – A Vietnam Motorcycle Adventure: Part 4

By Mike Huber

By Day 3 we were fully acclimated to the roads, food, and culture and it was now time to start taking on more challenging rides. The next day entailed leaving Hoi An to continue north to Hue for a couple days.  Along the way we detoured to experience riding across the Hai Van Pass.  According to locals this was one of the best motorcycle roads in the country if not all of Asia.

As we entered the Pass there was a police road stop and I was waved over instantly.  “Ahhh, I’ve got this” I thought, thinking I would just play the dumb tourist and skate out of any ticket.  Well…it half worked. As soon as I began performing my best “sad tourist, I don’t speak Vietnamese” act the officer pulled out his phone with Google Translator.  “Shit,” I thought, this isn’t going to turn out too great.  Within a couple minutes another officer was called over. “Dammit!” I now thought, this definitely isn’t how it is supposed to go down.  It turns out I simply meandered into a lane that wasn’t designated for motos. The other reason was that the officers wanted to honk the pink horn attached to my moto and take some photos with me.  That was pretty cool.

Once our introductions to the local authorities were wrapped up we continued to the base of the Hai Van Pass.  By this time, we felt very comfortable in our abilities riding in Vietnam. It was just like riding a local road in the US:  Leaning, feeling, and embracing each moment while blasting (blasting for a 150cc bike, by the way) into the corners while traversing the mountain passes.  As soon as we gained our confidence in riding in this country, we received a big wake up call.  This was in the form of trucks passing recklessly on blind corners. I labeled these trucks “Terminators” based on my experience driving Humvees near the DMZ in Korea.  It didn’t take long before I took the lead and would shout over our Sena headsets to forewarn what was around the next turn: “Clear,” or in many cases “Get to the side of the road, NOW!”

After completing the Hoi An Pass, we hit a new alertness level.  A rule of thumb became that around every corner expect a Terminator to be coming at you head on and always have a sure path of egress when (not if) they did. This stayed with us as our Hondas continued winding north to the Hoh Chi Minh Trail.

These cautionary actions didn’t mean we weren’t having fun.  As we entered the city of Hue, I noticed the bike was riding quite rough as if the shock was just gone. It turns out that my showing off for the locals in traffic by performing wheelies and endos had caused the shock to go a bit sooner than anticipated and fluid was leaking out.  It was time to find a repair shop as this wasn’t something that would be tolerable for another 900+ miles. Fortunately, Hue is a large city and while working with our rental company, Tigit, they quickly referred us to a local mechanic named Mr. Kim.  As I explained the situation to him (I left out the wheelie part) I could hear all the mechanics honking the pink horn on my bike in the back.  One thing about Vietnam: They get things done, and fast.  Within two hours Mr. Kim had rebuilt the shock and “bike all fixed, Mr. Hooba, no more bouncy bouncy.”  Upon arrival to pick up the bike I continued to hear the honking of my horn in the back of the shop prior to them rolling it out.  The shock was repaired, and we could continue the ride with a few less wheelies along the way.

With another obstacle (self-induced) behind us we continued to Khe Sanh.  Khe Sanh looks as though it hasn’t changed one bit since the war. Gray concrete buildings line the streets, the smell of smoke from trash burning hung in the air, there were very few shops, and there were even fewer people along the main street through the center of town.  To add to this gloomy scenario, it was a dark cloudy day, and we were freezing from the ride.  The hotel we stayed in even had a chill that refused to leave and stayed with us all evening.  I began thinking about the soldiers that fought here 50 years ago and what their opinion of this town was, both then and now.  Our night was short and after eating a warm bowl of pho we returned to the hotel.  We planned a longer ride the next day, and we wanted to be fully rested as we wandered deeper into this country of never-ending adventure.

Please click on the popup ads!

Never miss an ExNotes blog:

If you missed Parts 1, 2, and 3 of the Vietnam ride, here they are:

More epic ExNotes rides are here.

Charlie Don’t Wheelie – A Vietnam Motorcycle Adventure: Part 3

By Mike Huber

It was December 2018, and we were in Da Nang, Vietnam. Our steeds for this trip consisted of two Honda Winner 150cc motorcycles and we were ready to begin our adventure.  My moto had been fully decked out in a colorful light with bells, horns, and streamers.  With our route defined as northernly it was time to fire off this trip. We did this by starting in the wrong direction (south), and the reason for that was Hoi An was close to Da Nang .  There was a full moon festival happening there.  This was something not to be missed.

Arriving in the bustling town of Hoi An late in the day we noticed that the roads had been closed in a perimeter around our Home Stay (Vietnamese version of Airbnb) due to the Full Moon Festival.  The Home Stay was about a quarter mile away from the closest point we could get to. Leaving the bikes outside this perimeter wasn’t an option, nor was walking a quarter mile through the crowds with all our gear.  Having lived in Boston for 16 years and with the mindset of a paratrooper, I shouted over the headset loud enough for Bobbie to hear me over the crowds growing for the festival:  “Follow me! We’ll make this work.”

I clicked the bike into first geat and drove across the bridge to our Home Stay, on the sidewalk, and on the wrong side of the road while honking my favorite pink horn to alert those in our path that we were coming through.  The smile on my face was one that I’ll never forget.  This country was one of less rules and more of making it happen. I loved it! We made it to our Home Stay in time to unpack, catch our breath, and have a well-earned cold Saigon beer before heading out to find some chow.

Once properly hydrated from the Saigon beers, we walked the crowded streets of Hoi An as the glowing red sun began to set.  We gazed over the beautiful Hoi An River. The river was filled with thousands of lanterns on tiny paper boats with candles paying respects to ancestors.  This was a sight to behold.  It was beautiful in every way.  As the night wore on, our grumbling stomachs reminded us it was time to experiment with the Vietnamese cuisine.

Street vendors lined the alleys.  All had interesting dishes ranging from octopus, to frogs that looked like Mr. Olympias (due to their muscles under the vendors’ lights), to the quail that were runner up to the frogs in the bodybuilding contests.  Fried octopus seemed like the best choice. We ordered and sat at tables the same size used in preschool, with bright colors and flimsy plastic chair legs.  The food was DELICIOUS and just what we needed after a successful first day of riding in this wonderful country.

Hoi An was an easy city to love, so it wasn’t a hard decision to extend our stay.  One day entailed a full day of riding to a UNESCO Heritage World Site called My Son Temple.  This is a collection of Hindu temples hidden in the mountains 25 miles west of Hoi An. The site was incredible, with temples half overrun by the jungle, yet still in pristine condition even though some of them are 600 years old.  This location is deep in the jungle and as soon as we dismounted from our bikes we could feel the humidity. We spent much of the day exploring the ruins, with the overwhelming jungle darkness surrounding us.   The ruins were a mystical place that we were fortunate to have stumbled upon.

On our return ride it was time to make food choices again.  Choosing to stop at the first crowded place made sense. We soon discovered an establishment and radioed to each other that this looked acceptable.  Instantly, all eyes were upon us as we sat down in a three-walled, white-paint-chipped open room.  One thing we found in Vietnam wat that when you order food, you don’t always get what you asked for.  Often you get what they have, even though they will nod their head to your request while saying “ya ya ya.”  In this restaurant we kept it simple and ordered pho.

While waiting for our food we slowly drank a Hanoi beer that was warm (but much needed).  We tried to act normal as the locals pointed at us and chuckled. Finally, our food arrived but instead of our requested pho, we received what appeared to be cold water buffalo meat wrapped in a type of Vietnamese lettuce, a dipping sauce of some sort, and a consommé.  Eating with finesse isn’t my strong suit, and that became blatantly obvious. I was having issues making a wrap without having the meat spill out of the lettuce.

As all the patrons continued to stare at us an older lady came over to assist me in the proper way to prepare this dish, since I was clearly incapable of doing so myself.  She began wrapping it tightly with her hands that were blackened with dirt from working in the rice fields earlier and successfully tightly rolled it for me to eat. While she was performing this task other patrons in the restaurant were walking around me to go on the other side of the wall from which I was sitting to use the “facilities.”  With the sound of urine hitting the other side of the wall it was now time to finally eat my lunch. I bit into the wrap and noticed the meat was cold and I instantly thought it was raw and I’d get sick, but I still had to eat it to save face in front of everyone as they watched me chew each bite and swallow it.  The many onlookers gazed upon me as I finished about 60% of the meal while washing it down religiously with Hanoi beer, thinking the alcohol might save me from becoming ill. For the next 12 hours I was in full on hypochondriac mode. I had about six false alarms during this time when I would bolt to the bathroom thinking I was about to have an accident.  In hindsight this is funny, but at the time the threat of possibly having the runs while riding through Vietnam didn’t seem too humorous to me.

Returning to the Home Stay in Hoi An provided me with a bit of relief from my hypochondria and a chance to unwind.  We had ventured out while learning more about the culture, the food, and the people.  It was now time to map our next day’s ride, where we would correct our direction and return to moving north towards epic roads. With our gear fully organized and the bikes prepped, we called it an early night so we would be fresh for the next day.

Help us keep the hits coming:  Please click on the popup ads.

Never miss an ExNotes blog!

If you missed Parts 1 and 2 of the Vietnam ride, here they are:

Charlie Don’t Wheelie – A Vietnam Motorcycle Adventure: Part 2

By Mike Huber

As soon as we landed in Da Nang and got our bearings (as best we could with the jet lag, language barrier, and me) the first step was to pick up the motorcycles from Tigit, the motorcycle rental company.  My girlfriend Bobbie and I had reserved two Honda Winner 150cc motorcycles a month prior. I had some reservations about the smaller displacement, but the benefit of these little workhorse bikes was that the parts were so plentiful in the country and they were so easy to work on that if/when we did break down it wouldn’t stall the trip for more than a day or two.  This was an advantage compared to other models that you’d have to order parts and wait 3 or 4 days for even little maintenance issues. In hindsight this was a wise decision as we really beat the hell out of the bikes.

The rental process with Tigit was painless and with the owner giving us his Whatsapp contact number in event of breakdowns or other issues we instantly felt comfortable in this foreign land.  To further ensure our safety we had purchased Sena 10C EVO headsets so we could stay in close contact due to the ever-changing road and traffic conditions.  This purchase proved invaluable over the next three weeks and quite honestly saved our lives more than once. Knowing the road conditions would be challenging, we also opted to bring all our protective gear from home. Once we were all geared up and after a quick comm check with the Senas it was time to ride!

The first destination would be a local beach in Da Nang.  The wind and sun were just what was needed to flush out the jet lag and wooziness from our bodies.

In being true to myself I had to decorate the bike.  I had just recovered from a hip replacement in which I had a walker for a few weeks and decked it out with a bicycle bell, pink horn, pink streamers, and a pink basket.  The nurses loved it and old ladies in their walkers would give me dirty looks as I went about my errands on it (they were clearly jealous).  I had reasons for these decorations, more than just an opportunity to be obnoxious.  The bell was to signal I wanted pain meds, and the horn was for a cold beer.  The streamers….well, they just seemed to tie the entire walker together.  I brought them all to Vietnam to ensure my moto was properly suited to me.  It provided endless entertainment for me and proved to be rather annoying to everyone else.  Whenever I parked the moto, it just took a moment before children, police, or pretty much any local would be ringing the bell or honking the horn.  On more than one occasion, our hosts had us park the bikes inside their houses just so they could get a reprieve from the sounds of these add-ons, which benefitted us from a physical security standpoint.

At the start of this adventure, I felt a strange uneasiness.  This came from notions placed in my head from others telling me about their experience in the Vietnam War.  Feelings of guilt were constantly weighing on my mind as I met the locals and they asked where I was from. I was always extra respectful and humble when I said I was from the United States.  Having travelled much of the world this is always how I present myself, but in Vietnam I did so even more.  After a day or two I began to open up with several Vietnamese people about how I was feeling (I am a pretty open guy anyway so wanted to get this feeling resolved).  They all assured me that the people of Vietnam have long forgotten about the war and there would be absolutely no animosity over that from anyone.  It didn’t take long for me to put those feelings in the rear view mirror.  I began to fully embrace the beautiful people and their culture as I should have from the start.  As we continued to ride through the country this became even more apparent with every stop as the female locals grabbed Bobbie and brought her into their kitchen to pick out our meal, and the men invited me to sit on the stairs with them and smoke tobacco in bamboo pipes.  Sometimes it just takes a day or two to get comfortable with your surroundings.  Vietnam was no different.

I love it when a plan comes together, or doesn’t.  This is an especially great feeling when the plan is to not have a plan, other than a direction to travel in.  For us, this direction was north.  The goal was to hit the Vietnam North Pole, a remote area at the northern tip of Vietnam that bordered with China.  We had seen and read a lot about the ride and roads up there and it seemed one of the most epic adventures a motorcyclist could have. During this journey we wanted a leisurely pace with no pressure to travel if we didn’t feel like moving due to being tired or falling in love with a specific region.  Why rush this wonderful experience without savoring each mile to its maximum?  Our only constraint was to make our flight in Hanoi in three weeks, and this was plenty of time to cover 1,500 miles of the infamous Ho Chi Minh Trail if we chose to.

Do us a solid and click on the popup ads…it’s how we get paid!

More epic rides?  You bet!

Charlie Don’t Wheelie – A Vietnam Motorcycle Adventure: Part 1

By Mike Huber

In 2019, just before COVID body slammed the world by stopping most travel while adding uncertainty, panic, and fear, I completed a 1,000+ kilometer motorcycle journey through the heart of Central Vietnam.  This blog will be a 7-part series to highlight the beauties, wonders, and people of this magical land through the lens of a motorcyclist, philanthropist, and former soldier.

Asia. The largest continent in the World. Where the cultures are as vast as the geography.  It had been some time since I was on this continent and the first time was purely by a decision that there would be better stories out of Asia than where I was supposed to be stationed, which was Texas.

It was 1992 and I was graduating AIT (Advanced Individual Training) as a U.S. Army Communications Specialist at Ft. Gordon in Augusta, Georgia. It was August and the heat and humidity were brutal.  We were called into formation as this day we were to be given our orders for our first assignment as soldiers. As the Drill Sergeant called us up one by one, the anxiety in the air was intense.  Would we go to Germany, remain in the United States, or maybe go to Korea?  Most of us received stateside duties. As I eagerly opened my envelope, I learned my assignment was to report to Ft Hood, Texas.  I was not happy at all, as my “Dream Sheet” consisted of Jamaica, Aruba, and Portugal (I figured why not try for a cool duty station even though I knew it was extremely unlikely).

The formation dispersed after about 15 minutes, and I noticed one of my peers on the burnt lawn looking distraught. He was set to be married and his fiancé was pregnant, and he now had orders to Korea for a year. It took me all of 2 seconds to look at him and say “Hey, wanna trade?”  After a short chat with the Drill Instructor we made it happen.  I often wonder how his days in Texas went, but I find it hard to believe it could have been more of an adventure than what was to be my first duty station as a soldier in the United States Army.

I got what I was looking for: A lot of stories and a hell of an adventure in Korea with the 2nd Infantry Division.  I was posted on Korea’s demilitarized zone for a year.  This story came to mind in December of 2019 as I groggily stepped off an airplane into the hot humidity of Da Nang, Vietnam to spend 3 weeks motorcycling around the country along the Ho Chi Minh Trail. It had been a long 26-hour trip from Los Angeles to what I was about to realize was a beautiful and unique country.  The Vietnamese culture, although extremely beautiful, was much different then how westerners live.  To see it from a motorcycle was an adventure few people experience.

Do us a solid and click on the popup ads…it’s how we get paid!

More epic rides?  You bet!