Saturday, January 26, Green Hope Lodge near Cat Tien National Park, Vietnam

Riding the 150km from Ho Chi Minh City to Cat Tien National Park is one of the more “adventurous” things I’ve ever done. The city offered no easing in period. From the moment I set out from the shop, I was aware of how little I understood of the rules of the road. Intersections were a mess of trucks, scooters and pedestrians. It took no time for my trust in Google Maps to be shaken. Its first instruction, presented from the tank where my phone was affixed, was towards a highway clearly bearing a “no motorcycles” pictogram. Near these highways designated only for larger vehicles and buses ran smaller avenues, each packed with the furious activity of a school of scooters. I did my best to flow among them, catching my breath when the highways and side streets would abruptly merge, bringing buses and semi trucks to bear on our swarm. At times, my map would guide me to cross one of these highways — the momentum of the crowd pushing from behind was all that gave me the courage to do so.

After over an hour and a half of this, the maze of HCMC gradually faded into a single, two-lane road. Now, a new fear took me as I watched buses and trucks play chicken in both lanes, relegating me to the shoulder. I had promised myself that I would be able to relax a bit once I had left the city proper, but that now seemed unlikely to be true. I will give it to the driver’s of Vietnam, they have ice in their veins. A steady stream of scooters accompanied me for the duration of my trip and the flip-flopped drivers looked calm and collected throughout. The best points were in the towns along the way, when the already crowded roads would teem with pedestrians and the occasional impatient scooter operating against the flow of traffic. At one point, I shook my head in rueful disbelief at a man daring the shoulder on foot, playing badminton with himself as he walked. I don’t know when, but I eventually realized I had relaxed considerably. I stopped seeing lanes, and just saw road. A bus may be hurtling towards me in my lane, blaring its horn, but there was plenty of lane left and I knew the horn was just to make sure I saw him.

Soon, another hour and a half had passed. I had begun to encourage myself for the ride, dreaming of the ice cold beer I would have earned as a reward upon arrival. Instead, I now received my true reward — the last 30km of my ride. This stretch was everything the earlier legs were not. Trucks disappeared from the road, leaving only the occasional scooter. The full heat of an overhead sun receded to the warmth of one setting. And in the more relaxed pace I found the beautiful countryside I had been seeking. I exclaimed out loud when turning a corner to see a beautiful river splayed out in front of me, it’s banks lush with jungle. My energy was renewed and I rode the last hour with a smile on my face.

When I reached my destination, a smattering of cabins adjutting that same river, I did enjoy that beer. I let out a sigh. The weight of the day released in that exhalation was so tremendous that I couldn’t help but laugh out loud, and I earned a quizzical look from the receptionist. I had finished my big ride. Now I just had to do it again in reverse in two days.