The wonders of cycling in Ha Giang

Background: The pitch was perfect for a cruiser descent with one of my ultimate homies, Keaton.  No pedaling or breaking required as we slammed past massive fir and hemlock trees, and stellar clear views of the Cascade River valley and the opposite ridge.  We earned this 20 mile descent the day before

The year was 2017 and Keaton and I had ridden up to the pass with his then partner sagging in his truck.  We camped on the only flat space available near the trail head and in the morning we hiked the couple of miles to the pass.  After the hike, the ride down was worth every second of the eternal  climb.  This was our first super fun longer ride together but not to be our last. 

Keat and I have been riding bikes together since we were kids.  Once we fled a truck following us in the alleys near his old house on 29th.  Another time I broke my ankle riding my dads old mountain bike in the foothills where Keat and friends were building a bike park.  In high school we'd ride to school together almost every day of senior year.  Boise is made for bikes.

Keat and I have been the tightest of homies since grade school.  Our friendship was fortified by a 6-month stint living together in Bellingham in 2013.  For my birthday this year, Molly planned to invite Keat over to Vietnam for a cycling trip.   We were hyped on cycling the Ha Giang loop; a 4-5 day tour through the northern mountains and Hmong villages with enough elevation gain to choke up even Sir Edmund Hillary.  The plans were coming together, until it all fell apart due to coronavirus.

First day near the top of pass to Quan Ba.

Preparations: On Saturday March 7th, our school declared Spring Break 2020 had just started, three weeks before originally scheduled.  After seeing Molly and Jett off to the airport for their Vietnam exodus (another story to come), I had only Sunday to prepare for a solo trip to Ha Giang, salvaging spring break and intentionally planning a trip which would require massive physical effort, limited time on my phone, and away from my now lonely house.  So I rode around Hanoi looking for bus rides, padded shorts, tubes, racks, bags, and basic repair gear.  Thanks to Matty, Dave, and Liz, my cycling buddies here in Hanoi, who lent me critical pieces of gear.  I spent Sunday night packing my bags, re-rapping the handle bars, and shooting the breeze with Matty and Chad.  I was anxious because I had never been on a multi-day cycling tour, I had an interview at 6am on Friday morning for which I needed wifi, and I was playing in a massive Minsk football match scheduled for Saturday.  So I had minimal room for errors.  Hundreds of people motorbike these roads, but few people cycle them.  I got this, right?

Night before preparations

By the Numbers: 5 days, 24 hrs of riding, 12 hours on a bus, 370 riding kms, 9,000 m elevation gain, 3+ kilograms of friend rice, fruit, and banh mis, 8 beers, 7 flat tires, 1 haircut, 3 Canadians, and 1 stoked rider.

By the Letters:  As I mentioned, I was stoked, but a bit anxious - about my gear, riding alone, poor brakes, and missing my end-of-week obligations.

From the moment I clipped in my anxiousness subsided.  I pedaled from the bus up the valley on a hot sunny afternoon, feeling exactly where I needed to be.  I smiled to the locals as I passed and gave ma-halos to the passing motorists.  I could here the birds by the river and pedaled hard against the slight incline.  This was just what I needed after a week of sadness saying goodbye to Molly and Jett.

Quan Ba - Heaven's Gate

The first night after my 50km afternoon in the hot sun, finished by a brutal 3pm, 800 m climb, I landed in Quan Ba, a small town and a common stop for people after a half day ride in the Ha Giang province.  After cleaning up at a hotel (Van Duy) off the main street, I settled into a cozy Vietnamese restaurant around sunset.  The grandmother/owner drew me into her restaurant with her forceful yet friendly tone.  So I ponied up next to a small group of travelers, hoping to spark some conversation.

Chin Khoan Ramp - Literally switch backs within switchbacks

What I discovered next solidified my acceptance to traveling alone on this trip - the travelers weren't interested in me, but the host lady and I kicked it off.  Within 10 minutes I'd nearly exhausted my supply of Viet language, telling her about my family, my son, my experiences in Vietnam.  I asked about her life, her business, and her elbow she had injured after recently slipping in the kitchen.  I realized that traveling alone allowed me to connect with the locals in a way I otherwise wouldn't have had I been with friends.  Touring with my friends wasn't an option, so discovering the connections I made was able to make with Vietnamese provided a different yet equally strong memory.

Beautiful place to change a flat

Three nights later while finishing "the loop," I returned to Quan Ba after completing an amazing 100km day and immediately sought out another evening at the same restaurant - HOAN HAO.  The hostess' grandchildren were playing around and I was able to talk with them about cycling, football, and food.  I recognized and applauded the young boy's special relationship with his younger sister.  I told him I have two sisters and how important it is to be nice to younger siblings.  Later that night after dinner around 8pm, I walked him and his sister to the hairdresser 500m down the road and we all got haircuts and hair washes.  They waited for me and I waited for them.  On the way back, I bought us all kit kats and the boy mentioned how much fun we were having.  I agreed, smiled, and shared my genuine enjoyment with these two before sending them back to grandma for the night.

Haircut buddies

In between my nights at Hoan Hao, I met two other amazing people, Angie and Alex.  I met them, along with young Ediour, at the top of a forked pass heading down to Dong Van after 90 kms at 4:30pm.  I had planned on turned left, and they right, until they convinced me to follow them down the valley to Dong Van instead of on my own up another grueling climb to a remote home stay.  I'm so grateful I followed them for so many reasons.  First, I would have been riding into the dark.  Second, I spent the next two days with them, leapfrogging up and down to Lung Cu, the northern pole of Vietnam, eating amazing meals together, and sharing travel stories, party stories, and laughing laughing laughing.  Both nights of dining with them, not a single one of us looked at our phones - we just ate, drank, and were merry.  I knew they were extra special when, on their day off, they woke up with me at 6:30 to see me off on my journey.

Montreal mountain folk friends

The riding on the trip was incredible.  Massive uphills, switch-backed downhills, and a few sweeping descents that cut through the sides of a mountains like a low angled scar.  The sweat on the climbs reminded me of why I decided to do this - I love to push myself physically in the mountains, something I've loved for a while.  The small peaks rose out of bigger based mountains and pocked the landscape with tree-covered karsts.  The landscape and the relief were undeniably attractive - that's why people go there, including me.  Yet now that I'm home, I find myself sharing most the interactions I had with others.  For those who travel alone a lot, this is old news.  But for me, I don't, so I appreciated these unexpected encounters.

1 km to go!  

The final day was a ride from Heaven's Gate back to Ha Giang city.  40 kms of absolutely cruiser downhill.  Most fun I've ever had on a bicycle was this morning.  I had just finished an interview, I was rested and revitalized.  I was blasting tunes, dancing on the pedals, and waving like a fool to all  the merchants.  It reminded me of hooting and hollering with Keat down from Cascade Pass three years ago.  Next time brotha!

Showered, fed, rested, and happy. 

I'm already revamping my bike set up for more weekend rides around Hanoi. In my final months here I'm starting to take Vietnamese classes again.  I'm hoping my bicycle and my weak yet improving language skills will help me soak up these final moments with the lovely people in this beautiful country.

Cafe scene

I sit in a small wicker chair at a dim incandescent café at 6:30pm on a Friday.  A sweet mix of Vietnamese/English music plays in the background as a constant stream of moto commuters make their way to their respective abodes, cafes, or funky bars.  I sit in the back corner, which is also against the simple bar, looking out through both the open front door and the even larger accordion style side door.  Typically, as I enter an establishment, I seem to sit in the seat and at the table that positions me in a place to have the most active view - a win/win when I'm alone because I don't think about other's visual experiences. 

Out the door a small middle aged woman and her significantly younger make counterpart collect the nightly neighborhood rubbish.  He strolls 10 meters down each of three narrowing alleys at the end of the road ringing a loud cow bell.  Residents, as if its as natural as sipping hot tea in the chilly afternoon, bring their rubbish to the woman who stands on the rail of the dumpster cart shoving down the bags of trash. 

Across the street two crusty lads passionately steel each other's Chinese checkers piece under the florescent light.  They are much more relaxed than the gang of dudes who choke down cigs and sunflower seeds as they play game on top of game in front of our apartment by the pond. Every. Single. Night. 

I ask the cute server to fill my glass mug with a hot water so I can are so my sweetened Lipton bag again as wait for Mol to finish her final fitting of her wedding dress.  The smell of nearby cigs wafts into my brain as if they were my own.  I write to ease the familiar jitters associated with the anticipation of loads of upcoming adventure-ridden free time.  After waves of being family sick in the coldest dampest 60° imaginable, a possible dinner date with my dear cousin looms on the horizon before we board a 1:30am flight to Manila to kick off our winter break.  Who knew life would always be asking us to walk the balance between the simple and the complex and find purpose in it all?

Team building

I can't remember the last weekend we didn't spend at least one evening with new friends.  The core are St. Paul teachers from the states, but Vietnamese friends and Spanish families add diverse cultural flavor to our free time.  A few weeks ago we burned the midnight and early morning oil dancing at a music festival just outside of Hanoi the peninsula of a massive lake.  It was a colorful way to bond with co-workers sleeping in the dirt and wearing... well, sometimes not very much.  After the festival, Molly contacted the lead artist from our favorites two sets, the Hanoied Jazz Band, and sang at weeknight gig with them.  Unfortunately a demanding professional schedule doesn't jive with regularly performing at late night jazz clubs.  Her dream lives on.

Spanish footballers, Taylor (happy 30th) & Dana

Our friend & school athletic director (Taylor above) coordinated a super fun 5k turkey trot and thanksgiving feast for all our students and families at school.  It was a great community building event and a few of the students and staff including myself shared gratitude's in front of the entire school.  Shortly after the event, fourteen of us flew down to Nha Trang on the southern coast for a weekend of mud baths, theme parks, beaching, and powerful stream exploring.  We are both so grateful for the community people we have met and friendships we have made both here and the eternal relationships we have with our friends and families pre-Vietnam.  We told ourselves before we left the only way we could manage a second year here was to develop bonds a community of fun adventurous people... so we signed contracts for 2018-2019 school year!

Humbled by a powerful flow - Nha Trang

Two more gratitudes go out to my bicycle and the Vietnamese teacher at our school.  The last 4 months was the longest time I had gone without regularly riding a bicycle.  Now I have made the 10 mile commute to school through the chaotic but relatively slow Hanoi traffic a few times.  Pedaling brings so much good energy into my life - I am glad to have it back. Secondly, I love learning Vietnamese (although it's a two steps forward one step back type of process.  I still can't even say what I want 95% of the time, but the few survival phrases and informal yet contextual greetings I have learned form my last two weekly lessons have elevated me from the casual tourist lingo group to the I-actually-live-here-and-want-to-learn category.   It's fun to noticeably improve in something that offers such a huge reward - the ability to communicate verbally and learn about wonderful people.  Chuc may man!  [good luck]

Moloi, Michelle, Antonella - 

Katie, Itoro, Moloi at Vinpearl - Nha Trang

Final summer week

Mol loving the scenery of our post-beach moto cruise

Ho Chi Minh temple

Walking up to Ho Chi Minh Temple

We soaked up our last week of summer vacation.

Lounging in the falls

On Saturday we rose with itchy feet. Molly identified the nearest national park to Hanoi and within a half hour, we embarked on our first motorbike-fueled day trip. The hour and 45 minute "fresh" air tour up to Ba Vi National Park on our long term rental wasn't enough to cool us off. We walked along a jungle path and soaked our sweaty skin in the first possible siting of a waterfall, hiked the 1000+ steps to the Ho Chi Minh temple at the top of a mountain, and again soaked in an expansive waterpark. The water park had multiple layers of pools and falls, only to be topped by a more intricate web of tree and fern lined pools and falls just up the road. My principal spent the entirety of Sunday here with his family. After sharing stories and pictures, neither of us seemed to go to the same pool. The park is enormous but dense jungle obscures any view of pools that lay just beyond.

Mol on the bridge after one of many soaks

The more memorable trip was out to Cat Ba Island and Lan Ha Bay. It started with an early morning which included physically hitting our cab driver awake from the backseat at 6:30am in bottleneck traffic and thereby slashing his overpriced fare. Up all night, buddy? We narrowly made our transfer to the triple bus/single boat ride to the island. Once again, we cooled our bodies on the beach and ate cheep pho with an elevated view of a passage in the bay that eventually leads to the Philippines and lined with a few of the hundreds of jungle capped limestone atolls that make up the bay. We booked an all day sea kayaking and climbing trip for the following day through Asia Outdoors - a very well established and affordable tour guide company. Kayaking through the peninsulas, weaving around the floating villages from which archaeologists have found artifacts dating back 5,000 years - since the bay filled with water from the recession of the last ice age - we enjoyed the soothing strokes. Our Slovenian guide showed us a swimmable lagoon only approachable by kayak, as the entrance cave is only a meter off the water level at high tide, encased on all sides by black and white limestone cliffs, which, when not totally vertical, host a couple of trees until the angle eases and flora entirely covers the rock. After our homemade Vietnamese lunch on the tour boat, we set off on a basket boat for our deep water soloing afternoon. The leathered man with a massive smile captained the small boat, overflowing with 6 eager climbers from Italy, Australia, France, and North America. Our friendly Canadian guide communicated with our captain using a blend of gestures and symbols which route to drive the nose of the boat to. The captian was a pro, and had been delivering foreign climbers to remote rock faces on his boat for the last 11 years! The climber would step of the boat,and clamber up the overhung pockets, tufas, edges, stalactites, and cracks until they were ready to drop into the water. This activity is the perfect mix of freedom, relative safety, climbing, and cliff jumping. The rock is solid, the angle is powerful, the water refreshing, and the exposure freeing. I love it and am fortunate to partake in such a seemingly frivolous activity, but it lets me escape all other thoughts and become fully present, a difficult but necessary practice in other aspects of life. The pinnacle of the trip was reaching the golden ledge - a 20m ledge just big enough to turn around - taking a pull of the stashed rum, viewing a unique perspective of the islands, and stepping off the ledge, just climb back on the boat and do it all again until I was too pumped to continue. Molly was a little nervous about her abilities, but she crushed many routes! She and I debriefed our epic day and how well it separated us from the moving the logistics we have been so riddled with over the last 3 weeks (months). The night was capped with 5 hours of dinner, cheap Bias, and unplanned club dancing, all with a nice Dutch couple we met kayaking, Kevin and Ember.

Floating Villages in Lan Ha Bay

Run to the Beach on Cat Ba Island

Traveling with Molly makes the experience so rewarding and special. We are able to divide and conquer our chores, the passenger can be the necessary navigator on the moto, and we share mutual inspiration for meeting people, eat new foods, and explore the natural beauty of other parts of the world - on hands and feet! As we say to each other, we have high highs and low lows, and each are necessary. Being with her provides the opportunity for frequent reflection and mutual enjoyment of the moment. I can't imagine how Vietnam would look without her. She makes it beautiful! She also feeds the fire of inspiration traveling has re-sparked in me. Being here excites me to teach students, plan lessons, coach and play soccer, learn basic Vietnamese, run an asian ultra, climb limestone, pray in temples, meet cool people, practice yoga, and of course, swimming in refreshing water. The next many weeks will be prioritized by school, nesting in our new little hood and home, and building relationships with students and fellow staff. Peace and love.

Chi, Bia, and Sweat

Kawasaki

Our travels were without peril and our brief layover in Kawasaki was lovely.  As we exited the well-organized train system that took us from the Haneda Airport to our micro airbnb, we immediately noticed the generosity of the locals and the cleanliness of the streets.  Feng shui was apparent everywhere.  From the curbs that barely touched your ankles to the driveways that housed vehicles smaller than an All-American Harley blanketed by bonais, there was no trash and no disorder.  The spaces maximized functionality and human movement - there was no space to waste.  There was no music coming out of the homes, and people talked quietly.

Bicyclists and pedestrians ruled the narrow streets at a leisurely pace.  While walking around after a brief rest, we were noticeably lost looking for a place to eat.  A petite beautiful middle-aged woman who spoke great english approached us and asked with great (yet quiet) energy if we needed some help.  Yes, Please! We are hungry, not for our 10 pounds of trail mix and crackers we packed, but for  local food.  The woman ushered us to her sisters small bakery and asked her sister to hustle down the street to find an open restaurant.  She narrated the entire interaction for us in English and soon we were seating in a clean air-conditioned restaurant, with tenpura and cold soba noodles on the way.  This woman ordered for us and told us how much it cost.  I would eat battered and fried pumpkin every other day for millennia if I had too. Bicyclists and pedestrians ruled the streets and we never saw a single bike locked. 

The next morning we rose early and walked down the street The Kawasaki Daishi Temple.  I can't describe it's beauty and intricacies.  We honored the Yakuyoke Kobo Daishi in a brief prayer before we hustled back to the train > airport.  

Hanoi

We have lived in Hanoi for 40 hours.  We have walked nearly 20 miles around the city already, watching people and their interactions, eating pho, sushi, and seeking fluids for consumption or submersion by the half hour.  Our first impression - the people are noticeably respectful.  They nod as we pass and many say hello with a grin so big it would make my whole face soar to do so, and I try to back at them.  You know how you recognize things that people don't do, and therefore you later notice things they do or others do because of it's absence?  Well the Hanoi's don't holler at Molly, they don't beg, they push you to buy their goods, and they don't care that we absolutely butcher the simplest phrases of their language.  But they will hit you on their motorbikes if you don't move swiftly.

Yesterday in the middle of our morning cruise around the Ba Dihn District, we stopped over at a little restaurant by the a lake for a "quick" bite.  There was a couple of young gentlemen in plastic kiddy chairs with plates full of sautéed greens, salads, and fried tofu amidst their third or fourth Bia on ice all littered on the small plastic table.  We pointed to a picture of a meal we though looked well-rounded from the menu, finished our ration of water, and watched as a dozen more young men began to filter into their respective tables and chairs after parking their bikes, order a case of Saigon Bia, smoke their cigarettes, and chit chat about life.  This seems like a typical Sunday for many men.  We were here for nearly an hour before we went about 1/4km down the street for a rare non-alcoholic bev - iced juiced.  Here, be found our love for the Google translate app.  We have since found a few phrases we have documented on our necessary pocket notebook..  This will be our saving grace as we navigate the language and city we are growing to love.  The streets are busy, some boulevards have full canopies, and the parks are full of children playing, people centering their chi, and passing the shuttlecock back and forth.

Today we will look for an apartment and hit up the ethnology museum.  Stoked and sending love all around.  

Street lined with old bonsai's for ~1.5km

Life of a motorbike