Two Weeks On The Ho Chi Minh Trail

By Chris de Wagt

Hanoi

We arrived in Hanoi on the morning of Monday the 6th of June. We'd left NZ on Saturday and spent a couple of nights in Singapore on route. I'd been playing "spot the likely motorcycle tourist" at the airport but hadn't picked any of those who were now gathering around our Tour Guide Angela Bruce. Now I had picked her from the bunch, and Murray confirmed who she was as he'd met her prior to leaving NZ. Angela is like me; a little on the big side, but large as life to go with it. She had her daughter Ngahuia on hand (who was lucky enough to have 10 weeks out of school!). Angela confidently gathered us (12 in total) with our bags and herded us out through customs to meet with her partner Mike Britton - it was introductions all around and off to the waiting bus.

Hanoi by cyclo

While in Hanoi we experienced the traffic first hand with a ride around the old quarter by cyclo - this was an eye opener and a great way to get accustomed to the climate, the traffic, the noise and the Vietnamese people. The last two to join our group of 14 were already at our hotel, in total six women (one other riding solo) and eight men. Our group included two Brits now sensibly living in NZ - Andy is a "bomb disposal man" from Palmerston North and proved to be very knowledgeable on incendiary devices as we were to find out later on the tour; and Nick - one of the tallest men many of the locals had ever seen. At over 6' 4" he really made the Minsk look small, and he was two up with his wife Shona, a Scot.

the dragon

The next morning we travelled by bus to Halong Bay. Translated Halong means "where the dragon descends into the sea". This is an area in the northeast of the country with around 3000 tiny islands, many with caves and grottos. This bay is very popular with tourists and the junks provide day and overnight trips. Halong Bay became a world heritage park in 1994 but its long term status remains in doubt, all the on board sewage and waste are flushed directly into the bay. There appears to be little if any restrictions on the number of junks or tourists and no guidelines put in place to protect the environment. After a visit to a cave we cruised to a quiet bay and had a swim before returning to a larger bay in the early evening, to moor for the night.

aged motorcycle enthusiasts

To say that our boat "rocked" would be an understatement! Until the wee small hours we partied to Boney M (the only CD on board) and were visited by 4 young (Pommy) Mermaids and a couple of Mermen from a neighbouring Junk. These misguided youngsters were a bit surprised to find the only junk in the bay having a great time was full of middle aged motorcycle enthusiasts! Mind you many tales were told, songs sung and a few drinks were drunk before they slipped over the side to paddle back to their beds.

Next morning with some feeling a little under the weather (from Duty Free rum) we headed back to Hanoi and a dinner at the infamous Highway 4 - this is the watering hole for the Minsk Owners Club. The food was Vietnamese and included Scorpion for those feeling adventurous and several rice wines which were labelled as medicinal (but proved to be very intoxicating). The dinner was noisy due to a party of locals on the same floor as our group so, many had an early night as we were on bikes the next day.

Ho Chi Minh Trail Museum

After a visit to the Ho Chi Minh Trail Museum which is to the southeast of the city we found the bikes, guides and mechanic waiting for us in the carpark. After a bit of a run down on where all the important bits were on the bikes; mainly the horn and the brakes, and a reminder to ride on the right-hand side of the road - we were off. We followed Digby out onto a road he said was one of the most dangerous roads we would travel on during this tour!I later wondered whether it was the local traffic and our inexperienced riding (in Vietnam) that made this bit so dangerous as it seemed very much like most of the roads we encountered over the following days. But, we all made it out of the city without any mishaps.

We were heading for two nights in the Mai Chau region to stay in an ethnic stilt house among the White Thai people. These hill tribes were originally from Laos, China and Thailand migrating here several centuries ago. The valley is 135kms from Hanoi and over two very impressive mountain passes on a new road which is slipping off the hill as it suffers its first wet season. The road winds upwards with wide sweeping curves perfect for motorcycling, but a little too steep for the machines that were two-up. Most were thrashed, over revved and only by riding the clutch made it to the lookout stop just below the summit. Any and all stops are "rest stops" but after experiencing some of the local toilets finding a bush was much more pleasant.

a bright blue poncho

On this early leg we encountered the only rain we had on the tour, out came the wet weather gear - a bright blue poncho almost to your ankles and pull on pants - very chic. On down to the valley floor, into terraced rice paddies and farmland, many farmers were working in the fields and threshing rice in small thatched huts beside the road. The inhabitants of this region would be unlikely to notice an economic downfall, even another Wall Street crash would be unlikely to create a stir, it is subsistence living, with our village enjoying a cash earner by housing tour groups and providing a nights entertainment of traditional music and dance. The traditional evening was on our second night and we reciprocated with a bawdy English Football song and a version of the Haka. I think they earned their money!

afternoon ride

The next day was split into two off-road sections, it had rained through the night and the roads had turned to mud. ?? Another member of the group wanted to ride but his Minsk had problems and the mechanic Long had it in bits all over the yard, I kindly offered to stay behind and lend him mine! I found out later he fell off and he is an experienced motocross rider. I took the afternoon ride (after the sun had dried the roads out) but was unable to use my Minsk as Long had finished with his last rebuild and had my gearbox in parts all over the track! (Long's tool kit consisted of a coalchisel, a hammer and a few spanners - he was still able to perform a number of running repairs including a head gasket replacement on the side of the road). I ended up as pillion on Murray's bike.

The afternoon ride was on a " lesser travelled road" - dirt tracks we call them here and resembling firebreaks in places - at times the pillions simply had to get off and walk!This was definitely off-road, steep grades slippery after the night's rain, tight narrow paths with almost 180 degree turns edged with lush forest which could suddenly open to wide expansive views to the distant hills. Now, that's if you had enough time to look. You were busy concentrating onkeeping the revs up but trying not to overshoot a corner and end up a few hundred metres below on an unplanned short-cut, and watching for oncoming scooters usually with more than one passenger and a wide load of rice or planks coming at you. Never mind the wandering buffalo and missing the pot holes that needed bridges over them. I loved it!The next day I found I had bruises in the strangest of places and my kidneys felt like they had been used for a practise round with a kick boxer. It was brilliant, we passed a group of very unhappy looking American tourists hiking in the heat miles from anywhere - Boy was I glad I wasn't with them!We stopped for a drink in some out of the way village and then headed back along a different route. Murray went pillion and I rode the home stretch with a few complaints from the "back seat driver"!

"Allo, Allo"

From Mai Chau we headed south to the starting point of the Ho Chi Minh trail (0km) travelling along the newly opened Ho Chi Minh Highway across farm land and small villages. Cars are almost nonexistent, most farmers opting for the farm trailer towed behind the rotary-hoe, the buses use all the road and motorcycles and single cylinder trucks compete for the balance of road space along with wandering animals and kids leaping to the side to yell "Allo" at you as you cruise past. You tend to wave at everyone, kids and adults alike - they're all very friendly.

lost

As we stopped for lunch we lost three of our tour group. We were using the "cornerman system" (i.e.) if you're behind the guide (Digby) and he signals you to stop you stay with your motorcycle facing the direction he went until all the bikes have passed and the backup van has come up to you. Andy - the bomb disposal guy, his partner Trace - and Mervin missed the cornerman and continued on South. Despite several attempts to catch them up they had managed to disappear at a major intersection. Lunch was cut short and we trundled on hoping to catch them as we all needed to fuel up. The theory was they would be standing on the side of the road out of gas!

But no, as we gassed up in a station that was literally in the middle of nowhere, Tran and Mike Britton were deciding what route to take to search for them. We were turning off the main highway and heading down to the coast following Digby. We cut across the country from the trail which follows the mountains south to the coast for the night at Vinh. Now at this point it's worth mentioning that on a tour like this it's a good idea to have a cell phone with the tour leader's phone number programmed in. We didn't know if Andy and co. had a phone and there was much debate about whether they had been listening at the briefing as to where we were going!

The ride into Vinh was an adrenalin buzz, sundown and traffic everywhere. Murray described it (the traffic) "as coming at you from every direction except from above" - and that wasn't far wrong. We kicked it up a notch by playing "chasing" in and out of the traffic and dodgems with slower moving motorcycles. I almost broke the golden rule of never overtaking Digby with a couple of anchor slams before almost rear ending him at intersections, God it was great!We arrived at the hotel in the late afternoon, but we were all a bit worried at this stage as the missing tourists had been gone some 5 hours!

And found

By dinner we had the news Mervin had been found out of gas on the roadside not far on from our gas stop. Andy and Trace having gone for gas. . and . . somehow missed the search party entirely. Now it takes a good woman (and I hear he married her since they got back); Trace had been listening at the briefing and knew we would be in Vinh. They had stopped a number of times worked through the language barrier but got?? directions and a much relieved Angela got a call from her - they were in Vinh at the local Post Office! Digby went and retrieved them - after he finished his beer!

Mervin, Mike and Tran arrived in sometime later having clocked up some 400 plus kms that day. Mervin wasn't as happy about his ride into Vinh - his was in the dark, and he was tired and hungry - having gone without food and had very little water all day. Early to bed for all, relieved, but very tired. My butt was really starting to notice 300km days and I had no trouble sleeping that night.

the capital

Vinh is the capital of the Nghe An Province where the trail begins and much of the war supplies were landed in the Vinh harbour and transported south along the trail. Not surprisingly the city was heavily bombed between 1964 and 1972. The Americans lost more pilots over this and neighbouring province Ha Tinh than in an other area of conflict in the country.

On, On, On ....

Leaving Vinh in the morning we took Highway 1 to the edge of the city, then turned inland back towards the mountains and the Lao border, to connect with the trail again. Along this part of the route we passed through Dong Loc junction. This crossroad was bombed more than 2000 times during the conflict (The American/Vietnam War) and a monument has been erected to commemorate the loss of a group of young girls who had the task of checking unexploded bombs in the roadway. Many of them died from time delayed explosives.

We climbed up to the Hoanh Son Mountain range (Transversal Range) and through remote and beautiful karst limestone formations. It is here that the Phong Nha cave is sadly we did not have the time to see the cave, which is the largest in Vietnam. During the war the cave was used as an ammunition store and hospital (for the Vietnamese) but the cave has been used by the local people including Buddhist Chams during the 9th and 10th centuries.

This mountain range stretches from the Lao border and runs along the 18th parallel to the sea and is inhabited by many different tribes from the Champa Kingdom which dominated this area during the 11th century. The hill tribe people look very different in features to the Vietnamese we had already encountered.

Coming down off this range heading for Dong Hoi on the coast (our overnight stay) we came upon a long straight stretch of road. This was a distinct change from the winding and steep road we had been previously on and was unmistakeably the runway for the Mig airbase.

Dong Hoi is a idyllic fishing village, situated at the mouth of the Nhat Le River and we arrived as the sun was setting over the bay. We had travelled a little over 300 kms again, and after dinner on the beach - seafood galore - some opted for a massage and others simply off to bed.

"boys" day

Today was definitely "boys" day as we rode south through the former DMZ and the area heavily bombed with agent orange. During construction of this section of the highway most of the work was held up by the tonnes of unexploded ordinances - aprox. 600 to the km.

We passed by The Rockpile (a former Marine Base) and the Hien Luong Bridge, the former demarcation line between North & South Vietnam. Murray decided to put his "balls on the line" and straddled the halfway mark - a foot on each side of the country!

Coffee and Drink

Onward to Khe Sanh a border town sited at about 600m above sea level, again the locals here look different to others we have seen. The Bru Van tribe are known for their coffee plantations and the area was originally cultivated by the French. Our van driver went out to buy goods that had been smuggled in over the border which seemed to be the norm here. It's a pretty rough town, and the hotel we stayed in reflected that. It is a government hotel and hadn't been maintained in many years giving the insect wildlife time to multiply.

The idea is to get tanked up overdinner and you don't notice what's biting you! Although we'd ridden another 160kms today I needed a drink to help me forget the surroundings. Now this is the only hotel in the area, we would have had to divert quite a distance before we would have had another hotel option. We were promised one night in a govt. hotel would be compensated by two nights in luxury in Hue!

destruction

Khe Sanh is remembered for the bloodiest battle of the war. In 1968 a siege between 1000 Vietnamese troops and 500Americans ended with countless civilians dead from napalm and 1000kg bombs. To this day the MIA team still visits the area to search for bodies of Americans who disappeared during the fierce battles on the plateau.

Our next day we were headed for Hue and that hotel we were promised, passing though the A Shau Valley over the Da Krong Bridge. The bridge was built by the Cubans in 1974, and as we rode through much of the highway was being upgraded with a lot of roadworks and labourers with modern mechanical road working equipment. The road was steep in places and wound around lush green farm land which rapidly faded to a large flat landscape with very little growth.

We passed by Hamburger Hill (waiting here while Long changed a head gasket further back up the road). It is frightening to see the destruction, very obvious as much of the mountains are bare and trees that do grow are stunted to about 2 metres high.

It was impossible to pass through villages without seeing¨ children and adults with horrendous birth defects, a legacy of the war and nothing is being done to assist them. Only recently have NZ veterans received recognition of the effect of Agent Orange on them and their families. Here it is much, much worse. It can jump a generation - Mum & Dad can be fine, but their children can be horribly crippled or maimed. It is sad to see, we lightened the days of some of the children with gifts of whoopee cushions (farts are universally funny) and balls, bags and crayons. We would stop somewhere and start to play with the toys ourselves then involving the children as they gathered to watch. Finally when we were leaving we left behind the toys. It was very little but made you feel like Santa out of season!

I was stung!

As we had gassed up and were standing around forour briefing I was stung by something. Angela looked at it and it didn't seem to be serious just a red mark on the back of my hand. Turning toward the sea again we headed off down the very steep Me Oi (Oh Mother) Pass. The road was very narrow and winding steeply down from the plateau to sea level. About 10 minutes into the ride I was finding itdifficult to breath and concentrate on the road. I slowed and realised poison from the sting was spreading up my arm. Most of the bikes were now some way ahead, Jan the other female solo rider had slowed as she thought something was wrong. I stopped and tightened the strap on my glove to cut down the spread of the poison and rode on for another 15minutes to the bottom of the pass where I knew we were stopping for lunch. I made it in time to slide from the bike and throw up in front of a bemused crowd of locals who had gathered as the tour group had parked on their garden. Tran had medical training and after one quick look chucked an anti-histamine my way and loads of ice and water, then we waited. Angela was a bit worried as we didn't have a spare rider and it was still some way to Hue. At this point my second piece of advice to travellers (my first was a cell phone and the phone number of the tour guides) is to take a antihistamine as soon as you get bitten even if you never have a reaction at home. It appeared I had been bitten by a hornet - quite vicious and they definitely knock you off your perch for a while. After the others had had lunch, I felt squeamish but okay enough to continue to ride, arriving in Hue with an extremely sore wrist and arm butvery pleased to see the Morin Hotel was all we'd been promised. A pool androoms with beds the size of small houses and Yes, room service! Oh God did I deserve this!?? ?? ?? ?? PART TWO OCTOBER ISSUE