Easy Rider

Sa Pa, Vietnam

So this is day 4 out of 7 in Sa Pa (my train doesn't leave for a few
more days) which will make it the longest I've stayed in any one spot
since I left New York 4 months ago.  I've been here long enough that
the Hmong street hawker women don't even bother with me anymore when
they see me coming, which is a small victory.

Among the most rewarding things in Sa Pa is not the town itself, which
is at least functional for tourists if not pretty, but the countryside
and the Black Hmong, Flower Hmong, Red Dao, and Giang villages within
day tripping range.  The best way to see these is by auto, which here
means either renting a jeep (expensive) or taking a motorcycle.

Having never ridden anything two wheeled other than a Huffy Dirtbike I
got when I was 10, I figured that the motorbike was the best option.
Yes, it's dangerous, but my taxi on the way in from Hanoi airport
smashed into a road sign so I figure it can't be worse than being
driven.  And anyway, for somebody with zero motorcycling experience, I
figured that the best way to learn would be the rugged mountains of
Northwestern Vietnam around Fan Si Pan, with piss poor roads covered
with potholes, falling rocks, puddles, mudslides, insane motorists,
schizophrenic weather, and loads of "HALLLOOOO" ing village children
running after you whenever you slow down. (Actually the twisty
switchback roads were as traffic free as anyplace I've been recently,
and the heightened danger keeps you from opening it up like Evel
Kneivel so speeds are low and most drivers somewhat cautions - and yes
mom, I wore a helmet).

My mount of choice was a not intimidating looking white Honda.  It
actually wasn't my choice, and I would have preferred the cooler
looking Russian Minsk that is the other popular choice around here,
but they are apparently real pieces of shit, so image loses out.  My
plan was to rent it for three days, to use today to learn how to
become a road warrior and then take on some longer haul day trips.  It
started off lousy as I  teeter-tottered down the main drag here
without striking a pedestrian (miraculously).  Then the open country
started up, and while the weather was good here for a change and the
scenery of the villages & fields was beautiful (and for a change you
saw Hmong not trying to sell you stuff), the road got difficult very
quickly which demanded more of my concentration than I would have
liked - "wow great vie, now don't die you idiot"  For whatever reason,
whenever I saw a rock or pothole, despite all my efforts, some
supernatural force would pull me right towards that rock or pothole.
I think I hit every single one without fail. Plus changing gears was a
bitch, the gear thingy was made for small asian feet, so I kept
missing the damned thing and hitting the ground, which is a bad idea.

My nadir came at one of the nasty waterfalls.  In mountainous
undeveloped highlands in Asia you always get the phenomenon of
waterfalls at the roadside, which are kind of cool looking unless you
are crappily driving a motorcycle through them.  But they make it
difficult to motor through because the water, which is sometimes deep,
obscures rocks and cracks and potholes and bumps and you pretty much
just roll through and pray you don't hit anything nasty --the worst
thing is to go too slow cause then you get stuck, it's delicate.  Well
I did the worst thing and got stuck, and then trying to extricate
myself from the predicament, managed to slip and have my chariot fall
over on its side (and necessarily dumping me in the puddle).  I was
uninjured, save for my pride which was devestated insofar as this took
place in front of two intially bewildered, then laughing hysterically,
teenage Hmong girls walking along the road. The ride went on for
another few hours without incident, again, gorgeous if somewhat
repetitive countryside vistas - so I got the gist of what 2 more days
of it would be like.  But the fact that I looked like a such a tool
due to my extreme suckitude at motorcycling(though I rapidly improved
towards the end) kind of ended my desires to take on anymore ambitious
routes.  I mean, death, danger, who cares - that doesn't bother me at
this point as I've been spitting in the face of the grim reaper with
aplomb for four months now in mountains, deserts, jungles, Indian
buses, etc -- but looking uncool, well there's just a limit  to what I
can put up with. So no mo moto for me for now.