Having a week off for Tet, I found time to do a bike ride which I had been thinking of ever since I got to ride Núi Hàm Lợn Trail. The ride up there was cool, with a bit of mist, almost rain some places which had me a bit worried, but in the end I got only slightly damp and the day turned out perfect for riding. With an early morning start, the bike rode smooth and quiet with less than normal traffic on the road, due to Tet holiday.Following the same route I had taken to Ham Lon, I then cut around the end of Soc Son Mountain, which was a nice road through cool dense forest. There are several ‘eco-lodges’ there and I saw a pack of fellow cyclists out for an early spin, along with a few groups of local people dressed up and walking around the village, for Tet visits I suppose.
I stopped for coffee at house-front shop selling snack foods and incense, where the lady brought out the standard tiny plastic table and chair to set out in front of her shop for me. I enjoyed coffee in the fresh morning air, while neighbors dropped by, or simply held their conversations across the road, discussing the day’s plan for a community trip to some pagoda. After divulging the usual ice-breaking information (year of birth, nationality, marital status, number of children, monthly salary..) to the neighbourhood troop of Aunties who marched over to inspect me, I kept on riding. Speaking enough Vietnamese to communicate is obviously useful, but it also means that as soon as I start speaking Vietnamese, I am immediately engaged in a conversation when, sometimes at least, I wasn’t really looking for a conversation, but just a cup of coffee. I can, however, always go back to my tourist roots and order my coffee by pointing and grunting!
After my breakfast break, I quickly got into the section of the ride that I came for. A bit more paved road, some concreted path, some well-worn dirt track, and finally to the beginning of my forest road. It turned out to be just like I expected it, based on the satellite map picture; the quarried-out end of a mountain with a gully running up the middle of it, which eventually turned into a sort of road. Weaving along the edge of some mountains, this road led up into a valley with a reservoir down on my left and the mountains up on my right.
I missed the turn I had intended to take, which would have cut back lower down along the same side of the valley to bring me out at the dam, and instead dropped straight down into the valley where a road crossed the reservoir, and then I followed the other side of the lake down to the dam. I took a break at the dam, with quiet scenery and fresh water, some chocolate, and long-rise sourdough rye bread (not many things can make that bread better than it already is, but exhaustion can). All very reviving for the weary legs.
Just below the dam another dirt road cuts back up the opposite side of the valley following the edge of the mountains, going up to about 160m. This one was in a bit better condition, however my legs were in decidedly worse condition. Slow climbing. Some slow walking too. This road, after levelling out somewhat, curved along the mountainside with gorgeous views over the reservoir, and farther up the valley, over forest and bits of farmland below. The cool misty air made this part of the ride a true pleasure, and I kept on saying 'this is amazing' to myself every time I came around a bend and saw the next stretch of road. I startled a couple of cows browsing on bushes beside the road. After a touch of belligerence they ran down the road in front of me, eventually cutting down through the woods toward the valley.
At the far end of this road was more climbing, and at the top of one more rise which I stubbornly pedalled up instead of walking, both my legs locked up with cramps. My instinct was to try to walk a bit to get them to loosen up, but I really couldn’t bend my knees, the thigh muscle above the knee was pulled so tight. And so, in spite of how it felt, I couldn’t help but laugh at how silly I must have looked (had anyone seen it), me leaning precariously on my bike and pushing it along while swinging my legs along like dead limbs. It did occur to me, before the cramps (we call these Charley Horses where I come from...) eased off, that if I would have to walk like that all the way back out of the woods it would have taken like a day and a half!
After the cramps went away, I found that I was apparently at the end of the road; although there was a kilometer marker by the path, a few steps further it just stopped and there were thickets and nothing resembling a road. Since my legs were at the end of their road, and my bike was at the end of ride-able road, I decided to give up on my original idea of coming out on the other side of this hilly forest and circling around the end of it to return to Hanoi, and instead went back out the same valley I had come up. I did, however, drop down to the edge of the lake as that way was flatter, and there were a few houses and villages there - comforting in case those legs locked up again and I needed help getting back to civilization!
Fortunately, the legs mostly cooperated, and since they had finally gotten my attention with that bit of pegleg hobbling in the forest, I took it easy. After crossing the dam at the end of the reservoir, I rolled downhill on small countryside lanes which eventually led me to a road home. Stopped at a village shop for a drink and to eat the rest of my supplies. The proprietor was a friendly lady who was happy to sell me coffee (instant) for about 15 cents a cup if I mixed it up myself, and who wanted to talk about the war, and who wanted to know if I sent money home to support my parents.
