I turned off my bike and coasted down many of the mountain passes for miles and miles. I did this coming down the other side of the Heaven’s Gate pass. The road took me through the town of Tam Son. It was a small town halfway to my day’s destination, Yen Minh, so I didn’t bother stopping.
I motored over some more mountain passes and took in the scenery when I wasn’t hyper-focused on not getting run-off the road by one of the loud and dusty cargo trucks that barrel down the mountain like a bat out of hell.
After a couple more hours of riding, I arrived in Yen Minh around 12:30 PM. It was another small town. Hotels, restaurants, and various small businesses lined a mile long or so stretch of the main road. Three or four side streets near the town center had some offerings as well.
I picked a hotel on the north end of town. The owners didn’t speak English but they figured out I was interested in a room. They took me to a line of rooms at the back of the property and opened one of the metal doors. It was like a prison cell. It had a bed and an outlet. The bathroom was approximately 50 meters away. They were asking 200,000 Dong. My luxury hostel in Hanoi was only 145,000 Dong. So I said, Thank you, but no thanks, and moved on.
The second hotel, in the center of town, had a slightly nicer room inside the main building. It had a nightstand, a lamp, and an outlet, along with a mattress on the floor. The bathroom was down the hall. They also asked 200,000. I felt I could do better so I moved on.
I went across the street and further up the road. I found a place that had a room upstairs, a flatscreen tv, an internet router in the room, AC, a fan, multiple outlets, and an actual bed that was at least as soft as a wrestling matt. The bathroom was down the hall. It was 250,000. I was hungry and tired, so I took it.
I went to find some lunch and found a place nearby. Like most all the places in Vietnam, it was family owned and ran. It looked like they had just been hit by one of the large Korean or Chinese tour groups. Their teenage daughter cleared plates and swept the floor. I sat and ordered mixed vegetables and Vietnamese noodle soup.
After ordering, a scrawny, very loud cat that roamed the place, began crying out incessantly. A watched a transaction happening up front at the sidewalk between the mother and a woman holding five chickens tied togetheer at the ankles (or where their ankles would be if they had ankles). The live chickens hung quietly upside down in her bundle, the cat cried out. “MEYAOHHHH! ...MEYAAAHO!”
I silently cursed the cat, I stared at the doomed chickens. I wondered what made them remain so docile. Maybe they were at a point of exhaustion. The woman strapped the chickens to the back of her motorbike and drove off.
My meal arrived, it was bland. All of the vegetables were green. I think one of them was cabbage. The noodles in the soup were the instant, Ramen-like, noodle that I do my best to avoid. I was hungry from the ride, so I ate every bit of it.
I walked around a bit and found little of interest. I rode my motorbike to the petrol station and filled up. It had taken me one tank to make it to Yen Minh. I went back to my room and lie down for a nap around 4:00 PM. I was exhausted. Except for trips to the bathroom, I didn’t get out of bed until 6:30 AM the next morning. I was surprised by how tiring the near five hour ride had been.
I awoke for short periods of time during this marathon rest. In these intervals I deliberated turning around and heading back to Hagaing. I’d taken in some spectacular views, had some thrills riding the motorbike up and down the hairpin turns on the mountain sides, and had remained safe, my body and bike both intact. I had little desire to continue onward, I felt the risk was now outweighing the reward.
The risks were too much for me. The only money I had available to me was the cash I had on me. I’d lost my ATM card the previous week and would be picking up the replacement, mailed to Republik Backpacker’s Hostel, upon my return to Hanoi. That meant, if I crashed my bike and damaged it or myself I’d be cleaned out of funds and would need to scramble to obtain more. Further, it was threatening to rain. I’d been lucky, it hadn’t rained the previous day, but that didn’t stop my back tire from slipping slightly while traveling at a slow speed on a wet patch of road. On top of that, I wasn’t enjoying the Northern towns all that much.
I’d read and heard that people are friendlier in the North, more open, and you are not seen as a walking dollar sign as you are in many other parts of Vietnam. I was finding the opposite to be true. I found Yen Minh to be less than welcoming and more expensive than Hanoi. I resolved to turn around the next morning and head back, satisfied with having traversed at least one leg of the loop.
By 6:40 AM I was turning the ignition on my motor scooter. ...But it wasn’t starting, it wouldn’t turn over. I began to have visions of being stuck in town while the bike was repaired in a shop. I kept turning the key. Finally, after ten minutes, I turned the key and didn’t let up. After about thirty seconds of sounding like it was in its last throws of life, the engine finally turned over. I rode out of town.
On the edge of town, just as I was ascending the mountainside, the engine began to putter and cough like it had come down with a terrible cold. The engine slowed and threatened to give out. The bike’s speed topped out at 20 km/hr. I once again had anxious visions of getting stranded. I kept my faith in the notion that the bike merely had to warm up. Thankfully, this was true. After a tense fifteen minutes of riding, the engine returned to normal.
The ride back was easier, having become familiar with the terrain. I did, however come across an accident. A truck had slid off the road and into a ditch next to the mountain. It was a steep, wet, muddy section of road with many potholes. Another two trucks were stopped very near the ditched truck. Amidst a great commotion of motorbike, car, and truck engines, men directed motorbikes around the obstructions.
I’d turned my engine off and straddle-walked the bike between trucks and potholes. The road became even steeper and my rear tire slipped a bit. My 1.5L water bottle fell out of the interior pocket of my coat. I looked at where it had rolled into a ditch. It yelled out to me, “Go! Leave me! Save yourself!” So I listened, and left it on the side of the road, missing in action.
The people in the small towns and villages appeared to lead a simpler life, surviving on basic necessities and few to no luxuries. Some of them, probably the Hmong, appeared to carry on their traditions. I don’t know if these people are any happier or more miserable than anyone else. All I know is they spend a lot of time outside, carrying things, walking, and bicycling up and down mountains. And they eat cats.
This is a skinned, gutted and beheaded cat hanging outside what I believe is a restaurant or store. I’m not sure if it was an advertisement, a warning to other cats, or both.
If you think that’s bad, consider what two fellow Northern Loop travelers shared with me. They came across a guy that sold puppies, cooked puppies. Not even dogs, but puppies! It’s like something you would do in America to gain the title of “Most Evil.” -Or at least a runner-up trophy or an honorable mention.
I was 17 km outside of Hagiang when I noticed my fuel gauge read empty. I knew it wasn’t entirely accurate, but it wasn’t broken. I’d made the trip the previous day on one tank, but it was likely I may have used more gas on the return trip (I hadn’t shut the motor off as much).
I watched the kilometer markers tick downward, time slowed, and the markers seemed to become further apart. I began to formulate courses of action if I didn’t make it. Maybe a farmhouse would have some Petrol I could purchase from them?
After what felt like an eternity, I reached Hagiang. But I still had to get to the Petrol station. I took a wrong turn and wasted a kilometers worth of gas before making the needed correction.
I arrived at the petrol station on a few fumes left in the tank and breathed a sigh of relief.
In my next post I’ll tell you about making friends with the motorbike guy.
!steemitworldmap 20.3820 lat 106.o323 long Part two of Northern Loop Motorbike Adventure, Vietnam, d3scr
Good choice to come back!
It looks like it is quite cold there at the moment!
Heya, just swinging by to let you know you're being featured in the Daily Travel Digest!
You're featured again, haha! Well deserved though, keep up the honest, witty, writing style, really dig it!
I mean my mind gets it...they eat cats and dogs...normal right. But my emotional state .....ugh...we will not go there. :(
Vietnam seems wet and bit boring in a way...
It’s been unusually rainy for this time of year. You’ll see beautiful blue sky when I post about Nimh Binh. It’s really a great place to visit, minus the puppy cooking.
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sooo interesting topic ! You have some great amount of courage, biking by yourself on this northern land of my country... happy you had some great experiences and souvenirs to share with us ! cám ơn