First post
Though the history of Ho Chi Minh City (named that only within a day after the Americans departed Saigon in 1975) is interesting and the way people live and work on the Upper Mekong River and its multitudinous canals (every family has a least one river boat) are very interesting, to me, the most extraordinary, most fantastical impression of Vietnam is the traffic in HCMC. It's not the four or more wheeled vehicles, but the thousands of motor scooters and small motorcycles flowing in unending, delirious, inter-twining streams through the streets and sidewalks. (Pan Than, our guide, says that the population of HCMC is about 10 million and there are about 5 million registered scooters and an unknown number of unregistered ones.)
These two wheelers with riders of both sexes, all sizes, all ages and carrying one, two or sometimes more passengers and an amazing array of cargo (lumber, window frames, flower arrangements twice as tall and wide as the scooter, many bags of produce) crowd every available space on a street. And when moving they're like a school of dissimilar fish flowing with, against and across the current of other schools of fish and around any obstacle such as a parked or suddenly stopped vehicle or a crossing van or pedestrian. Yes, people on foot cross through the river even when traffic is moving, waiting for a space of one or two scooters, moving slowly and in a straight line while the traffic flows around them and perhaps an uninvited Seattleite walks with them, slightly behind and downstream.
We/I were apprehensive about riding in this maelstrom even though assured by GlobeRiders who had been there before that we'd catch on very quickly. And we did - it all seemed to come naturally - pay attention and go with the flow.
It's hard to describe all this in words and I've yet to get a good picture (see attached), but I'm hoping to find some time and a good, shady vantage point to watch for an hour and take some videos when we're in Hanoi.
Now on our way north,
--Dan
Overconfident/Under-skilled/Rats
I know it could be worse, much so, but it's bad enough. For now, I'm in a smallish, funky hospital in Hoi An, Vietnam healing from surgery to pin together my badly broken left tibia (large, lower leg bone) and stabilize my slightly cracked fibula (ankle bone). In the meantime, my fellow riders are off to continue our, now their tour of Indochina.
Our first 3 days of riding (200, 90, 230 miles) were on mostly terrible roads, most of which were on badly- or un-graded gravel and dirt and mud and even when on pavement they were full of obstacles - pot holes, one small town after another with chaotic pedestrian, dog and livestock traffic not to mention the fierce truck and bus drivers who think nothing of passing in the blind, blasting their horns and pushing two-wheelers off the road. It was fun for the first couple of hours, figuring out how to ride and survive, but eventually became rather tedious. For one thing, you always had to pay close attention to the road and upcoming events, so had little time for watching the passing parade. But, we all survived and, I thought, got rather good at traveling in this milieu.
Day 4, Pleiku in the hills to Hoi An on the beach (220 miles) was different. The roads were mostly very good and fun and wound through beautiful scenery in coolish (by comparison) weather. There was only an occasional construction zone and after our first three days experience, none seemed very daunting. But, in one case, after about 100 miles, I took what looked like a smoother route through a construction zone on red-dirt/mud vs. miserably bumpy gravel - bad choice as the tread on my non-off-road tires filled with compressed mud and within about 50 yards on a slick, muddy surface I dropped (euphemism for lost control and crashed) the bike in what I suppose was a dramatic fall. It happened so quickly I'm not sure how I did it, but the bike was on its left side facing backwards, I was on my right side on the ground and evidently my left foot went with the bike twisting and breaking the lower leg and ankle - rats, indeed!
Three Vietnamese riders who witnessed this immediately came to my aid - lifted my bike up, pointed it in the right direction on the side of the road, and helped me to stand up and lean against the bike (I was unable to put any weight on what I hoped was just a sprained left ankle).
Two other GlobeRiders came by to help, but I told them to go on, since I knew that the van with local guide Than and his assistant/driver Su as well as GlobeRider guide Chris Poland were following behind us. They easily found me, loaded me into the van. Than put on my riding gear to ride the bike to our destination in Hoi An and Su drove me to the hospital there.
Besides the physical pain I experienced after the adrenalin wore off and before having access to Tom's medicine cabinet and Chris's pharmaceutical advice, and then at the hospital during the evening, night, morning and afternoon with their not-too-effective pain medicines, the mental anguish was as bad or worse and is ongoing. There I was in the van watching my bike swooshing through the beautiful hill country on great roads but without me on it. And now my bike and I are trying to get back to Seattle while my fellow riders and good friends continue this great adventure.
I wish them well, as they have me, and look forward to riding with them again. Those in the attached picture are, left to right, Don, Tom, Mike, David, Chris, soon to be gimpy, and Su.
--Dan
|
