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Riding my bicycle across the Great Divide Mountain Bike Route
Where’s Francis? Follow along daily on my map: https://share.garmin.com/FrancisDavis (ask me for password)
Today was another early morning. Up around 5:30, it was still mostly dark outside. While I am starting to streamline the morning routine, agenda items such as a thorough application of sunscreen still take time. But it’s nice to savor the routine, putting what few belongings I have away, starting to form habits of where everything goes, and, more simply, getting ready for the day. Lyle was with me, and we planned to have a quick Clif bar before heading out onto the road in search of breakfast. About 5 miles in we were in luck. Locals were flocking on motorbikes to this one stretch of road. On both sides, vendors with fruit lined the dirt and rough concrete sidewalks, and one narrow, long building held big tables, colorful plastic chairs, and a counter behind which a vat of broth steamed. As we parked our bikes, a man came over with Google Translate. His phone read, “Please eat breakfast here, you are delicious” I smiled at that one, nodding and giving him a thumbs up. Two women worked quickly behind the counter, filling bowls with vermicelli noodles, cutting fat slabs of pork on a well-worn block, and retrieving a rich, golden broth from a tub behind them. I pointed at some sausage, meatballs, noodles, and broth, and I think they got the idea. That bowl of soup was truly magnificent, the best one of the trip so far. But that was only the first breakfast. Lyle and I found just next door an old man with a small food-vending truck. Behind the glass: eggs, golden breakfast buns, cucumber, hot dog, and sweet and sour sauce. Egg sandwiches! He fired up a small skillet, splashing fresh, orange egg into an oily saute pan, and toasting the bun in a kind of old-fashioned panini press. Buttery, eggy, starchy, wow. Then Lyle found a small coffee shop, it could not get much better. While our little breakfast adventure was tasty, it had cost us time. We were out of the hotel by 7:00. Having pedaled 4 miles and eaten breakfast, it was 8:30. It was decidedly time to get on the road, and I was excited. We seem to be in a particularly pretty part of the country, lush island hills jutting up all over the place. Sometimes the foliage gives way to reveal clean limestone. There are small farms everywhere, the occasional factory, and plenty of power lines zig-zagging all over the place. That first part of the morning we were riding right for a big mountain range, but at the last minute we turned parallel to it, being swallowed up into a valley with mountains on either side. It was incredible. I made it to the hotel around 3:45 today. It is an austere, Soviet era looking building. It is concrete and gray as can be. At one time, this hotel might have been something, but not any more. I am very curious though, as to why there is such a large hotel in a relatively sparsely populated area. The shower felt really nice tonight, the 70 miles of orange soil dust, sunscreen, and sweat going right down the drain. I gave my riding suit a quick wash in the sink and wandered out into the town to see what was what. Scouting a few potential restaurant choices, a group of small kids found me and started waving profusely. I smiled and waved, much to their amusement. So far the roads have been really nicely maintained, and I have passed several active road works to improve what is already decent. In fact, I passed a truck today that was just puttering along washing the stone mile markers. In this intersection-city, the sidewalks were mostly nice. A couple of holes right by the street, and a big pile of gravel obstructed the walkway. Everywhere, it seems like there is this desire to build build build. Concrete and brick being the two favorite mediums. I passed a big game of volleyball and made my way into a corner store to buy some candy. “ChocoPN” “chocolate coated pie” was what I walked out with. Dinner was bun bo hue, I had two bowls, hungry from the days pedaling. Back at the hotel, I got into bed, settling down with the aforementioned candy, unfolded my keyboard, and got to writing. Tomorrow is only 55 miles (still no small feat) but importantly, there is the promise of a nicer hotel, which I am looking forward to immensely!
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I was up at 4:15 to get ready to go, coming off of a surprisingly restful night of sleep. I met Lyle at his hotel in downtown, and feasted on a resplendent hotel breakfast. At 7:00, we hit the road, properly. I steeled myself for the adventure ahead: getting out of Hanoi. Careening around motorbikes, cars, and the odd bicycle, I started to enjoy myself. It was loud, horns piercing the air, and motorbike engines blending into an audial backdrop. The sky was a gray reflection of the pavement. I had to quickly snap into the mentality of driving in Vietnam. It’s paradoxical: everyone for themself, and yet everyone yields just enough to let everything move smoothly enough. The speed is incredibly slow too, no more than 20mph, which means that it’s easy to keep up on a bicycle. All in all, not so bad. I found my stride, and managed not to have an accident. Coming to the outskirts of Hanoi, the traffic started to fade, the landscape began to transition to lush forest with a green mountain range straight ahead. All around though, was construction. The intersection with the Ho Chi Minh Highway came quickly, this is the road I would be on all the way into Saigon. Lyle and I took a quick coffee break, applauding each other on making it out of Hanoi - but we still had 40 miles to do. Overall, that first day felt mighty good. I had fresh legs, and I was energized to be “doing” the trip finally. There was a lot of preparation leading up to the trip, and now, it’s just my legs that need to cooperate. The hotel I stayed at was simple, with a firm mattress. But the water was hot, and the blankets warm, so I needed nothing more. Staggering out of the hotel to find a bowl of soup, I felt incredibly tired. It was an early night, I got all my lights and stuff plugged in, and fell deeply asleep under a fleece blanket. As I should have expected, the weekend was an absolute whirlwind. I landed on Friday afternoon, and fortunately customs went smoothly. Standing in line, I noticed a guy one line over holding two cycling panniers in his hand. I did my immediate outdoors-person size-up: Solomon tennis shoes, a Kuhl shirt, and an OR backpack - all legit. I got his attention and asked where he was biking,
“To Hanoi”, he said. “That’s funny, me too”. And that’s how I met Lyle, the Canadian from Vancouver. We were in touch sporadically throughout the weekend, grabbing a cup of coffee to go over route planning, and since it was his first time in Vietnam I was happy to give him some general tips. Although I made it clear to him that I was not planning to adjust my itinerary around him, we agreed that at the least it would be nice to leave the mayhem of Hanoi together on Monday morning. Lyle is a nice guy. Mid 50s, a little bit of a gut, but with legs big enough to support himself on the bike. He has stubble, crazy hair, and years of sun wrinkles on his face. His eyes light up when talking about how beautiful the country is. He speaks with a thick, thick Canadian accent, “eh” is a common utterance. As of the second day, he’s managed to keep up with my somewhat aggressive pace. All the more impressive is that he’s hauling way too much gear on a way too big mountain bike with 29er semi-Knoble off-road tires. It’s not the efficient way to ride, but I’m sure it’s mighty comfortable. We may part ways in a few days time, I think its inevitable. He will be missed, it’s been nice to have a companion that speaks English and understands the unique nature of bike travel. On the other hand, I feel ready to jump in to the full intent of this trip: being solo. |
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