Best of the Northwest, Vietnam

Simply a quick list of “bests” from our northwest circuit, when we finally got around to the real mountains we’d been waiting for! The summits for which we’d been training. The apex of our journey and challenges. A rare ride tagged as “hard” by our friendly 2001 cycling guidebook. Our pinnacle of greatness. Well, okay, not really all that… but the guidebook bit is true! And by “bests”, I mean best highs and best lows because one month later - high or low doesn’t matter, those are all certainly the best moments!

Our planned route: (bus from Lao Cai) > Sapa > Lai Chau > Muong Lay > Muong Chau > Dien Bien Phu > (rest day) > Son La > Yen Chau > Moc Chau > Mai Chau > Hoa Bin > (bus to Hanoi)

Best Bus Ride
Day #1: Hopping directly off our overnight train from Hanoi, we were immediately feeling positive about this leg of our trip. After all, a miracle of all miracles occurred - we found a friendly minivan driver ready to give us and our bikes a fair priced ride direct to Sapa. No negotiations. No hassles about our extra “luggage”. Even in the rain, and willing to wait for the next train, which apparently was where our bikes ended up. Wow, we didn’t know what to do - smile and thank him or look for his vehicle to see if it actually had wheels. The ride itself was gorgeous. Straight uphill, curving tightly around green terraced slopes shrouded in mist. From the fog, amazing images of brightly-colored traditionally-dressed, mountain village people would appear a few meters ahead before we passed them. All a bit magical, including the nice driver…

Best Cultural Collision
In Sapa, beautiful smiling, traditionally-dressed, ethnic minority village women fill the busy commercial streets and markets selling handicrafts and cheap silver jewelry. Because of their giggling, friendly nature and genuine curiosity, they mix more comfortably and casually with tourists than anywhere we’ve been. In this way, we didn’t care if they were selling or we were buying, we were just happy to have them laughing by our side.

Best Tip
Serendipitously, while we were waiting out a heavy rainstorm in a cozy cafe curled up on lounge chairs and pretending we weren’t crying (because, we knew it was going to happen but Shelby just died while watching Steel Magnolias on the big television), the owner came over and started up a conversation. Turns out he has a tour company and is very familiar with the road conditions in the northwest, which was a subject we planned to research, um… yesterday. He gives us the story: “From here to Tram Tom pass, roads are sometimes bad, sometimes disastrous, especially when wet, construction everywhere. After Tram Tom pass, all good until Dien Bien Phu. From there to Son La, forget it, heavy construction, terrible. After Son La, very good.” His advice was dead on. We took it and arranged a jeep to the top of the pass in the morning and planned for a local bus between Dien Bien Phu and Son La.

Best Downhill Flight
Okay, so we cheated to get up to our highest point on the northwest circuit but we definitely got our share of thigh-burning climbs. That said, we arrived at the top in a heavy dense fog and cold drizzle. We couldn’t even see from one side of the road to the other much less cars or each other if a few meters away. So we started down slowly. And oh so slowly the mist cleared, the clouds broke open, the scenery revealed itself, the distant mountains appeared and we began to soar down the long ribbon of curves for 25 blissful kilometers.

Best Unappetizing Surprise
Dog. Yes, dog. I ate it. Simone ate it too. We were soooo hungry. And there was one, only one, restaurant in town. And it served one, only one, dish. They showed it to us and I nodded okay. It was noodles and meat, how bad could it be?! Before the dish was served however, we did some guidebook research as we’d been in Vietnam a while and realized that the meat advertised on the sign outside was oddly not one we were familiar with. Sure enough, “northerners love dog so if you’re not ready to eat your dear canine or those mangy looking things on the side of the road, watch out for the word CHO”. And so, big hot chunks of cho were sitting on the table and then in our mouths. I will report that, although I am not particularly a dog-lover or pet-person and had no predisposed expectations for the meat of this animal, it was really bad. Might have been the sauces or spices, might have been dog-on-an-empty-stomach, but it just didn’t go down well. I drank the broth (also bad) and ate the noodles (held my nose) and dreamed of a dogless dinner.

Best Timing
Day 2 brought rain. We had over 110 km planned and wild determination. We pulled out our sexy suffocating plastic ponchos only 5 km out of town. I tugged at mine over my wet pouting face and we pushed on. Up, up and uphill. Then it stopped. We smiled. We sailed through a gorgeous stilt-house minority village just near the road and made several other scenic photo stops. Then it began again, a bit heavier. We had 20 kilometers to the next village Pa Tan. Mostly downhill, we dip our heads, dig in and crank it there. As we pull in to a surprisingly large, upscale, fancy resort, the skies open up and let out a deluge of violent water, wind and lightening. We sat under a covered terrace drinking hot tea in mostly dry clothes and watched the show. It was early and we feared we were done for the day but an hour later, the sun came out and birds started to sing. I was timid and feeling strong love-hate towards my wet sticky dirty icky but highly functional and effective poncho and so we showered the hotel oasis with our love and gratitude and carried on…

Best Lunch
A few hours later, we stop for lunch at a small village. Simone, refusing to relive our dog-encounter, has taken over meals and put together a “cheat sheet” of desireable menu items in Vietnamese. This works well and I am still grateful to her for saving meal times! Anyway, I walk around pointing at things that look good. The man at this small shop gets a laugh from our efforts and throws together a delicious array of vegetarian delights, prepared and delivered with humor and love. We looked at our recent photos together. We exchanged smiles with the ladies in beautifully colored garments, jewelry and high foreheads adorned with tall amazing silver wire and black coiled-rope headpieces. Its a casual place and no one really stares. We’re simply treated like we, or anyone else, can belong there.  

Best Breakdown
Later that day. My back shifter got tired and broke! No good at all. There were still constant ups and downs between us and our destination, 20 kilometers away. Stuck in 7th gear (I climb in 1st)!? But stuck it was. Simone was a champ and offered to switch off bikes with me so we could drag our tired, beaten yet stubbornly determined bodies to our day’s finish line. We’d worked hard, we’d seen some great views, found good weather and we wanted it!  

Best (of the Best!) Rescue
Five kilometers later. (96 kilometers completed, 15 kilometers to go): “Hmm, is that a little light rain starting? Maybe we should stop and detest our ponchos. Oh yuck!!!, mine’s all wet. I hate this thing. Ugh, where’s the hole?! Oh no, its blowing inside out. Simone, heeelp me… where’s my head!? Hahaha, I can hardly stand up in this wind! Whoa, what’s this? Can’t. Even. Hold. Bike up! Simone, your helmet!, it’s blowing down the road! Agghhh, haha, uh…” <Keisha drops her bike and runs to catch helmet for fear it will go over the edge of the road, clearly the WORST thing that could happen here. Helmet retrieved. Fight hurricane force winds to return to the tree and “shelter” that Simone has found: small space beneath a leafy bushy thing under a big tree whipping around in the wind fighting to hang on to the side of the mountain. Simone actually puts on her helmet for further shelter.> We sit. We laugh. We don’t cry. Yet. Instead, we assess our situation: Okay, so… 20k to go. A headwind that we can’t even WALK in. One hour until sunset. Hurricane-like winds. Wet clothes. Raining cats and dogs (could be dinner). This BUSH for shelter. Nearest village 3km straight uphill in opposite direction. No guesthouse. No shop. No restaurant. Possibly best option is plead for dry floor space and rice. <No, Keisha decides best option is a big truck. Two minutes later (not joking)… a distant rumble is heard. Not thunder. Hmm, sounds like a chariot of good fortune perhaps…> “Yes!, oh my goodness, Simone look! Look!” <Putting on her best smile and sincere look of fear and desperation (not hard to muster), Keisha darts out from behing the tree towards the approaching lorry with arms waving frantically, then folded in a demonstrative begging pleading motion. > “Agh… uh, pleease… help?” No words are actually necessary. Two guys jump out of the passenger side and in a quick heroic sweeping motion toss our bikes in the back on top of the load of pig transporation baskets, then invite us in to the front. We meet mom (lady-of-the-house, back and center), dad (driving), son #1 and 2 (also in back), son #3 (passenger side) and introduce the two new cab members, Simone and Keisha (front and center). Now everything is warm and funny. We all laugh together. Simone takes over mom’s job of wiping the front windshield. As we battle large wind-blown branches and rocks strewn across the road, Simone gets a big laugh from the crowd as she also wipes dad’s forehead of sweat. We go through some basic communication. Gratitude is clearly expressed. The family is from Hanoi. They’re going to Dien Bien Phu. They drop us at the door of our desired hotel in Muong Lay and will not accept any form of payment. There are no words to express our deep appreciation, only a low bow of tearfully overwhelming respectful thanks.

Best Mechanic
The young, boastfully confident guy in Muong Lay who took that mysterious little shifter apart into an array of little scary pieces and then successfully put it all back together again! (Then he completely jacked up Simone’s front derailleur but with an hour of trial and error, he got that going again too…)

Best Decision
To split the following long day in two: one of 50k and one of 55k. We stopped in Muong Chau after a challenging but satisfying day of good weather and great scenery riding along a magnificent gorge - from high above then down to its banks and back up again. Gorge.Ous.

Best Dinner
The Muong Chau storm shelter. No expectations is key. We had a brief but nice conversation with a young English speaker at our government run hotel (which means enormous but basic, expensive and non-negotiable). We asked about nearby dinner options and he pointed to a small local-looking joint. He looked over our menu item “cheat sheet” and sent us off with a new tip: ‘Ca Sot’. Fantastic! We ate delicious fish pan-fried in tomatoes and herbs (’ca sot’ was then added to our list), fresh vegetables and boiled potatoes. While in the cozy restaurant, a powerful windstorm blew past us, ripping the blinds off the hinges outside. It reminded us of a surreal old Western movie, aaand that weather in Vietnam can change faster and more drastically than in Hollywood or in Texas!  

Best Deathmarch
The final haul to Dien Bien Phu. It was dead hot, no wind and endless climbs. The fourth day shot us over our comfort zone and into the pain cave. At one point when we thought we were at the end of our limit, we just had to laugh. We had stopped after an extremely rough patch of rocky uphill construction to catch our breath. A motorcycle driver (who must have been a little crazy) stopped next to us and demanded a drink of our water! Seriously?! You have an engine; we are our engine and you want to drink our petrol?! He did. And he was serious. I gave it to him and hoped that some good energy would come from not denying a thirsty insane man water… or beating him. 

Best Sense of Accomplishment
That last day, that last hill. It felt like it just wouldn’t stop. We covered 55km in 4 hours that day (that’s REAL slow)! And then we made it. At the top of the last climb, was a tiny solitary hut. Probably there to celebrate the same accomplishment with all the weary pedestrians, heavy load movers and thirsty crazy men on motorbikes. We had a celebratory pot of herbal tea (from what would be a doll-sized tea set in the wild West) with a ancient smiling lady with black teeth and matching black traditional ethnic dress. We shared our last bits of peanut brittle-like candy with her grandkids as we looked down the descending road to our destination. The relief was edible!

Best “City Treat”
Coffee yogurt, mmm! Simone ordered it in Dien Bien Phu and I’ve been obsessed ever since. You should try it at home: coffee + plain yogurt + ice (sweetened to taste). She says the Swiss are obsessed with it too. I’m still working on the exact recipe…

Best Collision
My head into the top of the bus! The whole back row on the local bus from Dien Bien Phu to Son La smacked the roof of the bus at least three times. One hard-headed guy actually cracked it. The driver thought this was really funny. His assistant thought it was knee-slappingly funny and so he slapped my knee. Really. I got smacked around in Vietnam, but lovingly so.

 The list could go on and so could the ride, but we had to cut it short. Our taste of the northwest was delicious and I think its good to leave wanting more! Vietnam was our training ground for solo bike travel and I think the teachers here gave us advanced lessons beyond our expectations!

Photos from the ride: Vietnam, Northwest

A map of our northwest circuit…

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Posted in Vietnam