Modern Vespa

I'm in Hanoi now, en route to Chiang Mai tomorrow where I intend to decompress for a couple weeks before riding through Pai, Mae Hong Son, and Chiang Rai.

I had intended to wait until getting wheels before starting a Lap Around Italy-style travelog (hence Shots from Asia), but the stories started early. I'll probably keep that one for quick shots and use this one for stories. 🤷‍♂️

I'm not much of a planner, including on here.

I'm a big fan of BOA for above-the-ankle boots. They're the most convenient lacing system I know of (so you don't waste time redoing the lacing every time you don/remove them), and they last longer than zippers. Unfortunately, there aren't many companies that sell them in the US. I know of 3: Klim, Icon, and RevIt. They're often out of stock.

The Klims don't come in half sizes, so I ordered the closest ones. They're the most ergonomic, but they taper significantly around the small toes. They would have murdered my feet in 3 months on the road. The RevIts appeared on CycleGear the week before Xmas. I ordered a pair and sent them to my parents' house, but shipping was a mess with winter storms. I was literally crawling into the rental car to head back to California the afternoon before my flight when UPS rolled up. Unfortunately, the RevIts weren't comfortable, especially considering they cost $500+. I made a gametime decision to send both pairs back and to head out with my Icons.

They're the longest lasting pair of moto boots I've owned (thank you BOA). They're the same pair that survived a feral dog in Italy last year. They're not the best boots (I did break my foot in them over the summer), but they fit alright and I know I can wear them for days. Plus, they're already worn out. If I find something better on the road, I'll have no problems leaving them behind.

I was walking between cafes in Hanoi when someone carrying a bucket stopped me and pointed to the rubber peeling away from the toe on my left boot. He dug into his bucket and pulled out an eyedropper of probably-superglue. Then he pulled out a pair of tiny thongs and motioned for me to take my boots off. I pointed to the other boot, where the sole is peeling away at the balls. (I had stopped at REI on my way out, but they didn't have anything to repair them.)

He got out an awl and started driving it through the sole. I stopped him, explaining with gestures and Translate that the soles are only attached with glue, and that I didn't want to put holes in the leather of my waterproof boots. Then he'd go back to the awl. After 3 attempts, I gave up. They're garbage boots anyway - it was worth it for the story. He proudly sewed the sole back on to the right boot. Then he got out his shoe shine kit and rubbed brown and black dye over the respective parts of the boot.

I didn't know how much to tip him. Lunch is usually about 30k. Mediocre massage parlors up and down the street shout out "1hr: 200k!" whenever you pass within earshot. I had 100k in my wallet and offered it to him. He asked for 300k, but accepted 200k. I looked it up when I walked away and realized that 300k is only about $12. I probably should have given it to him. In the moment, I was still a bit annoyed that he wouldn't listen when I asked him not to use the awl.


Gluing the rubber back on

and stitching the sole

Before and after a shining. They almost don't look like garbage boots anymore.

I had heard that you need Proof of Onward Travel to enter Thailand. Didn't want to get stuck at the border, so I penciled in some dates and an itinerary. I'm in northern Thailand for a month, then I'll fly to Saigon. (Booking that flight was a side quest of its own. I'm always surprised when a website that's designed to take your money fails.)

The only airline that flies between Hanoi and Chiang Mai is Air Asia, one of the famously cheap ones. I booked their premium ticket (SkyBoss) to try to get as close to a normal flying experience as possible. It's kind of funny to see the things that are "premium" on a discount airline. There was a SkyBoss lane to exit immigration, but you waited in the same security line as everybody. You were the first to board…the bus that goes to the airplane. It came with a meal and a bottle of water; any other drinks cost extra, and that might be the most generous use of "meal" in the history of the word. Bags did come out rather fast in Chiang Mai, but I can't tell if that's SkyBoss or if they're just really quick to turn around the plane.

I've been using a Thai SIM card with Asian roaming through eSIM2Fly, which meant I had data as soon as we landed. I had the Grab app (Asian Uber-equivalent) open so I could get into town as soon as possible, and hopefully beat the rush that comes when a plane lands. I started reserving a Grab as soon as I got my bag, until I realized there was a long line to leave baggage claim. This might be the only time that "nothing to declare" was any more effort than walking out the door.

Nobody ever asked for Proof of Onward Travel. They did ask for my vaccine records at check-in, but that regulation only seems to have lasted a few hours. As soon as we landed, I read headlines of the entry requirement about-face.

Once through customs, I went for Grab. 'There was a problem with payment, please try again.' I tried again and it got stuck on the "waiting for a car" screen. I had an inclination that the app might be of the same quality as VietJet's the night before. Maybe Grab was getting stuck in some limbo state when it can't run the card. I entered in my other card and sure enough, it found a driver. Unfortunately, he was 15 minutes away, and seemed to remain there for minutes on end.

Right as you exit the terminal, there's a desk for a shared airport van, and it looked like rides were cheap. I inquired to find that van service had just ended, but they could arrange a taxi for you for 300THB. That's 50% more than Grab, but still only $10, and worth it not stand around an airport for any longer than I had to. It was cash-only, so I hit the ATM and cancelled the Grab order.

I had made some airport friends at the lounge in Hanoi, who approached the counter as I did. Their hotel was on the way to mine, so we proposed splitting a taxi. The cashier's brain broke when we proposed this. She was adamant that there could only be one drop-off per taxi, and flabbergasted that anyone would even ask the question. Still, I was eager to get into town, so I handed her the money.

"Okay thanks. You are car #2. Go wait over there."

It wasn't until that moment that I realized that she didn't have taxis on-hand. A few other people made the same mistake, until there were 4 or 5 groups waiting.

I stood there for half an hour. Somehow, the rest of the terminal cleared, until just those of us who had confused the official looking "taxi" desk with a "taxi stand" remained.

The "taxi" finally rolled up. It was just an airport van, doing single-service laps.

Jess, I think the Italian National Salute has gone international.

¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Bought a pair of ICON's with the BOA system.....mainly because I would be better protected, and they were so easy to do up that I stopped wearing sneakers.
Flying Tigers flew me to S.E. Asia in the 60's for an extended tour, "out & about" in Pleiku province.

I can recommend the boots.


O.S.

The definition of adventure is tales of discomfort told from a point of leisure.

Sounds like you are having an adventure!

The last time I was in Thailand, I made it a practice to not book anything in advance - I would show up in a town and go find lodging. I don't know what motivated it, but I'd sometimes spend hours looking. It's surprising how far off the basics can be, even for places with great photos and reviews. A comfortable bed, satisfying shower, usable wifi, and general cleanliness are table stakes most places, but can be surprisingly hard to by come by here. You've also got to be on the lookout for standing water - lots of those pretty gardens can be a literal breeding ground for mosquitoes.

I made that discovery last trip, but I'm still in the process of rediscovering it this trip. I smiled when I read this, sipping tea in the lobby after a massage. They invited me to take a shower, but since my hotel is across the street, I decided I'd rather take one there.

There seems to be an instant hot water heater in the shower, but it does its job about as well as an AirAsia meal, oscillating between "is that getting warm?" and "crap, I need to find another hotel."

I might have fallen asleep writing that last post, and finished the last sentence with no memory of what the contrast to "is that getting warm" was meant to be.

---

I'm still figuring out the right format to string these stories together. There are a few topics that are hard to find reliable, up-to-date information on - things I had to do a bunch of independent research to figure out. I'm going to break those out into their own posts, to hopefully save future googlers that work (and doubt).

Here are the first two:

• Getting a tailor-fit helmet in Japan
• Getting a local license for riding in Thailand + Vietnam
  

Those look like the same boots I have in a lighter color. Been rocking these Stormhawks since July 2021.

Had my eye on the Klims at the time, waited until the 2021 refresh came in, and they didn't fit my feet. (Sound familiar?) So, I tried the Icons.

Give me one day notice if you are coming through Phayao.

Should I?

I'll have about 2 weeks off. I expect I'll do Chiang Mai, Pai, Mae Hong Son, Doi Inthanon, and maybe Chiang Rai. I don't really know how long I'll linger in any of those places. (I'm also open to e.g. riding to Pai, working from there for a while, and then continuing the trip when I have time off.)

I don't know the region all that will. It looks like Phayao is nearby. Is it worth a detour?

That depends on your criteria or expectation. Detour? Would depend on the distance. But then again most towns around here are about the same.

If I go between Chiang Mai and Chiang Rai, is there anything in your direction that I should see? Any routes you recommend riding between CM and CR?

I really don't know how the next leg of this trip is gonna go. I'm tempted to head to Pai next, because I caught a glimpse 4y ago and it seemed cool. Maybe the move is to do the MHS loop the other way, so I finish in Pai. That way, I'll have a sense for how much time I have, and can decide whether to linger in Pai, in CM, or try for CR.

I would say go up the 107 to the 1089. I've done bits of that. Really depends on how long you want to take.

1148 is generally regarded as the best road in Northern Thailand but that maybe a bit out of your way. Just a snap shot or two
https://goo.gl/maps/XpKxYjx3BqX1S8xf9
https://goo.gl/maps/UyFs9SBDbXxS6M7JA
You are a bit early for the shirt as it has not been printed yet.
[img]https://www.gt-rider.com/se-asia-motorcycling/attachments/1665045568214-png.149752/[/img]

While in CM drop by one of these

C&P Motorcycle Rental
Mr Mechanic
Tony Big Big Bikes
On The Road Books

And pick up a copy of this as a souvenir

[img]https://www.gt-rider.com/se-asia-motorcycling/attachments/2018-gtr-mhsloop-mapcover-jpg./[/img]


There is also a Golden Triangle edition.

Edit: someone can tell me why the images don't show.

The addresses don't actually resolve to images. If I paste them into my browser, I get a 404 "oops" error.

I think that forum is doing some weird ephemeral link thing. I think this is the source:

https://www.gt-rider.com/se-asia-motorcycling/threads/2018-gtr-mae-hong-son-loop-map.14577/

but if I try to link one of the images directly, I have the same problem as waspmike.

They worked for me. I could have put them as URL. Oh well.

You've got some characters between the png or jpg and the /img, and maybe some extra hyphens?

This is why we always download the image and then upload instead of hotlinking.

That's not actually better, from a copyright perspective. It's actually much worse.

They are using nonstandard image filenames. Their server recognizes the format, but MV most definitely does not.

I guess now I have a reason to go into town!

I'm staying in Nimman, and haven't gone into the center yet this trip.

It's hard to be on a moto tour without a moto. I learned that in Italy last year. My gear (and particularly my bag, which was much easier to strap down than hand carry) was a pain in the ass to lug around. In fact, I'm attempting this trip with a regular backpack and some ROK straps.

However, I still have my helmet, jacket, gloves, pants, and boots. They're quite content to live at the hotel, but if I'm gonna hop on the back of somebody's Grab, I feel like I should at least wear the gear I already have with me. After all, it's a mesh jacket designed to be worn in hot weather.

I experimented with it and found that walking around in moto gear in tropical weather is exactly as melty as it sounds. At the same time, I don't wanna spend my whole stay within walking distance of my hotel, and I'm not terribly keen to get on the back of a stranger's ride in SE Asian traffic without at least my jacket and helmet.

It's time to rent a moto.

It's high season in northern Thailand. The summer rains have ended, and the spring burning season has not yet begun. Hotels are frequently at full capacity. Scooter rental lots are empty.

I walked around the neighborhood and peeked in at some rental shops. Many had nothing. I asked one shop about a 300. The manager threw me on the back of some random thing parked on the sidewalk, salmoned up the sidewalk until he could cross the road, and took me to some maintenance yard a mile away. I've never seen a Yamaha Xmax before, but the second I turned it on I could hear that it wasn't in good shape, and I noped out of there.

Up the road was a very well reviewed shop that had a Honda Forza 300 coming in next week, and a Yamaha Aerox 155 available now. (It was the only thing he had, and more people showed up trying to rent while I was there.) The owner also rides a Forza, and encouraged me to take it around the parking lot.

That thing steered like a boat. I looked up the specs, and it's 100lbs heavier than my GTS, with an 11% longer wheelbase. It had a massive trunk under the seat, but the seat barely lifted to put anything underneath it. It had ABS, but I wasn't feeling confident about the rest of it.

When I tour in a new place, I try to rent something as familiar as I can. I want all my attention to be on adapting to the new street context, not on figuring out how to pilot whatever strange contraption I've found myself on. I look for ABS, acceleration, top speed, brake quality. I want to set myself up for success, so if I have to slam the brakes or rocket out of danger, I have all the resources I've come to expect.

He had two Aeroxes - one had just come back (and needed a bolt replaced in the swingarm). The other was reserved for later that afternoon. He had me try the reserved one, and it felt way better. Like my Vespa, it was nimble and peppy. It felt way more at home squeezing through urban traffic than the Forza did. The original plan was to take whatever he had until the 300 came in and swap, but now I was wondering if this was the only bike I needed. He told me to come back in the afternoon, after it had been repaired.

I found some really encouraging articles, hyping up the Aerox. I asked around in some local backpacking and motorcycle communities about which would be more adept to the kind of touring I wanted to do. The backpackers thought a 150 would be plenty. The motorcyclists thought anything under 300 would be miserable. One person in the motorcycle group owns a rental shop/bar. He was out of town, but he had a Forza for rent with Pirelli tires and Öhlins shocks that he said made it ride way better. He invited me to swing by and try it. I popped on a Grab over there and took the Forza around the neighborhood.

It zig-zagged around the neighborhood without incident, but not enough to shake off my nerves from the morning jaunt on its cousin. It was also a sunfaded old beast that cost 1/3 more than the other shop's Forza, and 3x what a 155cc would run. It had a top box fitted, and the underseat bucket was wide enough to fit my travel backpack; although it wasn't very deep, and the seat didn't open very far. I have no idea how easy it would be to store things there, practically. In any case, both tires were at the wear bars, so this wasn't something I'd be taking today anyway.

Being at a biker bar, I ended up chatting with someone sitting at a picnic table on the porch. He was 20y older than me, and had spent much of those 20y traveling to Thailand for moto trips. We traded stories. He endorsed the shop owner, and tipped me off to a place to check for new-old stock moto gear. It was late enough in the afternoon that it didn't make sense to go all the way back to the first shop to rent the 155, although I felt bad about potentially having left him hanging. While I was walking around I saw another Aerox, this one with keyless ignition and ABS. It was owned by a Dutch ex-pat who made it clear he would price it to discourage long-term rental, because he can already exhaust his inventory with the higher daily use rates in high season. I stashed that knowledge in my proverbial cap and decided to sit on it until the morning.

I contacted all the well rated shops near my hotel in the morning. Most of them were either cleaned out, or had only old garbage left. One had all their inventory online, topping out at a Honda Click 160. I googled it, and discovered that the 160 had just been released. The shop only had a few ratings, but they were all 5 stars. It was a short walk from my hotel. There was a padlock on the door, and a brand new Click 160 staring at me from behind the glass. According to the hours on the door, they opened at 8 everyday, and it was almost 10. A few phone numbers were listed, so I typed them into Line (the local messaging app), found the shop at one of them, and sent a message. I grabbed a coffee, and the guy came back to meet me.

The Click accelerates and stops quickly. The front has ABS on a disc brake; the rear is a drum. (They're linked - you can feel lever pressure on the rear fade when you pull the front.) It's got always-on lights (which is surprisingly rare here), backed by LEDs. The underseat bucket was smaller than I wanted, but looked deep enough to fit a helmet (I hadn't walked over with mine). It had a proper grab rail (unlike the grab ledge present on the Forza and the Aerox), so it should be straight-forward to strap a bag on, and it's metal, so it hopefully won't get chewed up by the straps like the Beverly I rented in Napoli. The odometer had a grand total of 80km, and the tank was only half full - this thing hadn't even been to a gas station for its first refill yet.

The seat is a bit farther forward than I'd like (though that was true on everything I sat on, and as I recall true on the Beverly as well). It was also a bit on the hard side. I didn't have my riding jeans on, but I crossed my fingers that they would be more comfortable than the thin shorts I was walking around in.

I told the guy Piaggio's break-in period was 1000km, and asked about this. He said not to worry about it for 6000km. I asked him if I could return it early if the seat bothered me and he showed me the daily rate.

Tired of shopping and entranced by the newness, I said yes. I was excited to have something I could be confident on, that hadn't been abused by previous riders or clueless mechanics. While I was signing the paperwork (and after I'd forked over the cash), it became apparent that there was a misunderstanding about early returns - I could return it early, but he wouldn't refund anything. I did the math and realized the 3 week rental is only $150 - that's what 3 days cost in Italy - so I went along with it.

I'm mostly happy with the purchase. I forgot to make sure the underseat storage can fit a laptop. My 14" MacBook Pro is too big for the space (as is my full-face Arai). Like the Vespa there's a bag hook under the handlebars, and a helmet hook under the seat, so these are solvable problems. I've had a hard time adjusting the mirrors to be useful, although looking behind you apparently isn't part of Thai traffic culture. An open compartment near the right knee makes a perfect cupholder, which is quite useful when riding around in the heat. I'm changing hotels for one up the block tomorrow, which will give me an excuse to test strapping a bag to this thing.

The tires still need scrubbing in. They're the same IRC tires you've never heard of except for as Honda OEM. I'm hoping Honda wouldn't abide garbage tires on their brand new vehicles, and I'm also hoping I don't find out.

I'm really happy with the Peak Design phone case + mount I bought for this trip. The phone looks great in the case, and less "hey pickpockets - look at this big fancy phone" than it would naked. The magnetic attachment needs no fiddling, and quickly makes a solid connection. It got jostled on the road plenty yesterday, and never wavered.

I do wonder how the seat will fare on longer rides. I might take it on a 3 hour jaunt today to find out.




Helmet doesn't fit under the seat

but can hang off the side



This clever parking brake holds the rear lever down. (Not useful if you use the center stand, but still interesting.)

Doesn't even have plates yet, so it's immune to speed cameras!


Last edited by mayorofnow on Sun, 15 Jan 2023 05:49:17 +0000; edited 1 time

This shop was interesting.

It's in a residential neighborhood - you go past a security guard and down some small streets to get there. The storefront was behind a big driveway and looked just like the other houses - I had to peer in to see the gear in the windows. I parked in the driveway, and a woman came running over from across the street to open the shop up.

It's a bunch of new-old stock, imported from Pakistan. They had brands you'e heard of (Dainese, Alpinestars, Rukka), but the gear looked like it was from the 90s. A lot of it was sunfaded, and the reflectives were peeling away. She had riding jeans in better shape; they were knock-offs imported from China.




The reflectives on this mannequin have seen better days.

I don't think I've ever seen a retail shop in a subdivision like this.

I can't tell you how good it felt to put the Click through its paces yesterday!

One of my favorite daytrips when I lived in San Francisco was to ride along the Sonoma Coast to Jenner for coffee on the Russian River delta. (If you've heard of "PCH" or "California One" - that's the road. It's glorious!) I don't know if I did that ride once in 2022. The weekends I wanted to the weather didn't cooperate. Suffice to say, I was more overdue than I realized for a ride like this.

There are a bunch of "digital nomad" WhatsApp groups in Chiang Mai. Someone I met at a coffee shop added me to some, and someone I met through the group suggested Elefin Cafe. It's a coffee shop on the side of a mountain, where they'll sell you baskets of bananas and sugar cane to feed the elephants. I've never been one for keeping animals in captivity - I even feel weird about people who have pets - but the path there looked like exactly the kind of squiggle a moto is made for.

I think my tires are scrubbed in now.

Swooping through those curves, rolling back the throttle, glancing over the edge to catch glimpses of the landscape through the trees… This was the first day of the trip that I truly felt like I was on vacation. (Technically my sabbatical doesn't start until next week. I've been working remotely these past few weeks. I've been filling my days with coffee, meals, and massages; but have largely been living a life that could be had anywhere.) It felt hella good to be immersed in the Thai mountains, swaying to and fro with the winds in the road.

The Click did everything it needed to. I was wide open a few times going uphill, but I never reached for power I didn't have. One of the motivators for this ride was confirming that the 160cc engine would be strong enough to tour with, and it certainly passed the test.

I grabbed a butterfly pea soda at Elefin and decided "when in Thailand, peoplewatch at the elephant platform." I offered to take a photo for a Korean couple. While the girl wasn't looking, one of the elephants started picking bananas out of her basket, and the ensuing panic was one of the funniest things I've seen in a while. After an hour up there, I decided I might as well try a basket for myself. It was surprisingly fun to feed the elephants. The Google reviews all said they appeared to be well treated, and I can't contest that. They had a whole mountain to roam, and seemed to be enjoying grabbing finger bananas and pieces of sugarcane. Their mouths were pink and fleshy with no visible teeth, but the sugarcane made a satisfying *crunch* as it entered nevertheless.

The sun ducked behind the mountain, and I was determined to ride the whole loop, so I tossed a leg back over the saddle. When I saw a gaggle of motos stopped on the side of the road, I knew I needed to pull off to see what the commotion was about.

I had reached the summit, and finally had a view of the lands beneath me without the obstructions of the roadside forest. There were a group of adventure tourists in their BMW and Kilm jackets in the gazebo. "Real bikers" like to throw shade at those of us with small engines and step-through frames, but these guys were stoked for me (and a bit jealous that I'm paying $7 per day for a brand new set of wheels). They were just coming back from the Mae Hong Son loop; their tourguide gave me some tips for my jaunt through MHS next week.

The last time I was in Thailand, one of my favorite things were the juice carts in Bangkok, where some guy would freshly press you the tastiest orange juice you've ever had into an iconic skinny bottle. I've grabbed a couple similar-looking premade bottles from street vendors this trip, but none of them approached the glorious flavors I remembered.

I saw another rider sipping from a sack of orange juice with a straw hanging out, and asked the lady with the fruit cart to press one for me. It was everything I wanted it to be.

Not long after I left the summit, I pulled over to attach the sleeves back to my jacket. A quick jaunt to the night market the night before had tipped me off that it would be a good idea to keep them handy, but I was surprised how early I wanted them. As soon as the sun turns itself in for the evening, the mesh ventilation sends a chill, even if the ambient temperature feels plenty warm when you're standing still.

I wanted to get off the mountain before it got dark, so I skipped all the riverside campgrounds with their picnic benches and fairy lights. The place I ate was down in the rice paddies on the outskirts of Chiang Mai. Google mounted on my handlebars offered an alternate route that looked more squiggly, so I made the turn. The road dissolved into a cement boardwalk, barely a car-width wide with water on either side, winding through a village. There was an occasional center stripe reminding motos to pick a side, and an even more occasional oncoming car to make way for.

I've been pleasantly surprised at how easy it's been to adapt to riding on the other side of the road. Thankfully the controls haven't moved much compared to the US (though I have honked a few times when I meant to hit the brights or cancel the turn signal - the buttons are mostly in similar places, but the spacing is different than my GTS.) Everything is flipped, which helps it all make sense. For instance, the fast lane is now the farthest right, but it's still the one adjacent to the median.

I spent the week before this trip in a rental car. I had brought a USB-A-to-C cable so I could play music through the stereo, and tossed it in my bag at the airport. It's come in handy with the Click, cause the battery life on the Pixel 7 Pro doesn't stand up to a travel day (even without using nav), but the Click has a USB-A port stashed behind a door at the left knee.

My hotel reservation expired this morning, so I checked out of my hotel and into a more comfortable one. The air conditioner smelled like San Francisco squalor, and the permanent warm-dank of the bathroom had its own perfume. I forewent using the never-warm shower for as long as I could get away with, but I still felt bad to leave. In spite of spending a week in a room that photographed well but got none of the basics right, I was so fond of the sweet couple who ran the hotel that it was sad to leave. They kept asking where I was going next; I didn't have the heart to say "for a warm shower up the road."

Conveniently, today is laundry day. I didn't bother packing my dirty clothes into my backpack for the 3 block ride - they stash perfectly well under the seat. However, without the bulk in my backpack, it didn't have the structure to stand up to a ROK strap. I'm gonna have to set aside some time on the morning I leave for the Mae Hong Son loop to figure out the right way to secure my bag. As it was this morning, I wouldn't trust it in the corner, but I also didn't want to spend my morning fussing with it when I was so close to finally taking a real shower.

The bag hook on the Click is literally a hook, and it's so low that it provides no utility in actually keeping a bag secure in the footwell. I'll have to keep my laptop pinched between my feet for coffee shop adventures.

I just ran downstairs and took another quick stab at this before the heat of the day got going. (Feels like it climbed 10° in 10 minutes.)

Instead of trying to emulate the attachment technique of the Kuryakyn Torke I usually tour with, I started from first principles. Orienting it like a tail bag, one strap going around the belly and another linking the end of the bag to the tail should provide enough tension to stay put in corners.

This Patagonia Cragsmith is a great bag that my brother turned me onto. The whole back panel comes off, so unlike most travel backpacks you don't end up with everything lost in a dark pit at the bottom of the bag. It's technically designed for rock climbers, so it has a bunch of loops on the perimeter, which are coming in handy for tying it down.

My Pacsafe security net chewed up the plastic grab rail on the Beverly I rented last year. I was nervous about that happening again, so I did a quick search for luggage racks. There are a bunch on an online marketplace called Lazada for about $15. Now that I'm feeling more confident in tying this bag down, I'll probably skip it. This grab rail is metal, and it's nice knowing it's cheap to replace if it gets too worn by my trip.

Once this bag is stuffed with clothes, it should be relatively hassle-free to cinch down and secure. It'll be annoying to get under the seat with the bag attached, which makes me extra happy that this thing has a compartment in the legshield to stash a water bottle.

Nice write ups ,keep them coming

About the backpacks: some years ago a bought a Kriega. Mighty high price tag, but also a large, loyal group of bikers swear for it.

It's been as good as I hoped for. Mayby better. Mine is a water proof model and it really is that. Also easy to wash the large water proof, removable inner compartment after a trip. Lots of points from where to strap into a bike. The shoulder straps are better than in any other backpack I've had. With a proper riding jacket on, it is literally easy to forget that I'm carrying anything. Also solid as heck.

Will take it to my next trip too...the only thing I'll have to watch is not to pack it full before going to a plane, the dimensions easily exceed those of European budget airlines for cabin luggage.

Glad you've found something that works! One of my riding buddies ordered a new luggage set (I think it was from Giant Loop) just before I left. He was excited by those bags too.

Waterproof is one of those things you don't realize you care about, until you get caught in a Sicilian hurricane and cross your lucky stars that you brought a waterproof bag. That experience motivated me to pick up a waterproof bag cover for the Patagonia. (Plus, it makes the bag look less pickpocketable if you don't see an exposed zipper.)

I have a few problems with my Kuryakyn. One is that the shoulder strap is awful (and unreliable), so it's awful to hand-carry. The others are around the linear, waterproof zipper. It really limits the bag's utility to have such a small zipper; in fact, you have to put your laptop in the bottom of the bag, cause you simply can't get the zipper over it on top. Because it's waterproof, it's also high friction, which makes it painful to zip unless you're diligent about lubricating it. In fact, there was so much resistance that the zipper pull tore clean off one week into my 2 month Swiss-Italian tour.

I'm looking forward to touring with a general purpose bag. If it works well, it means I can travel with something that meets my needs off the bike, with the confidence that I can take it touring too.

One more curiosity about riding in Thailand: they have more options for ethanol content in the gas. Whereas California is almost exclusively 10% (and some shops in Nevada and Oregon will sell 0%), Thailand offers 10%, 20%, and 85%.

According to the manual under the seat, the Click is rated for up to 20%. The extra ethanol produces slightly more torque, but less power and range. At these prices, E20 is also about 1.6% more cost effective.

It's intellectually interesting to think about as I'm about to embark on a 190km journey through the mountains with an engine that has just enough power for a spirited ride there.

It's also a bit of a moot point - a full tank of gas costs $4.

I bought an Alpinestars Halo jacket for this trip.

Frustratingly, it's a 2022 jacket, but the 2022 armor doesn't fit in it. The back armor is simply too tall for the main pocket. There's a hidden zipper that gets between the layers of the jacket, but there's no good way to secure the protector back there. I called Alpinestars to confirm I wasn't missing something, and included their armor in my pre-trip returns run. I've swapped over the Pro-Armor from my Dainese jacket instead.

With the armor installed, this jacket is something like 10lbs. I was certain I'd be toppling chairs left and right, but so far the chairs have emerged unscathed.

So far until today.




Modern problems require modern solutions.

The Alpinestars Nucleon Flex Proi Full Back Protector

Seen here, not-fitting into what should be a matching jacket.

Dainese Pro-Armor, for comparison

The Dainese fits just fine.

It's 1:00 and I'm about 45 minutes into a 4 hour ride. Just stopped for breakfast.

Didn't sleep great last night. A bunch of people got laid off at work. Found out at dinner, and had an all-hands put on my calendar for midnight here in Asia. My team and I were unaffected, but there were a lot of "hey do you still work here?" chats and related communal angst. I almost let myself go "I'm on sabbatical - this can wait til I get back," but curiosity got the better of me. Went to bed at 2ish and woke up at 5 for no reason. Got a bit more sleep after that, but still not enough to be riding all day.

I spent most of the ride up here hoping the bag holds. I just checked and it seems secure enough, so hopefully that quiets my nerves a bit for the next stretch. It definitely feels cramped with the bag on there, but I don't want it to cantilever off the back and then fall off if I hit a bump, and take me down with it. Even like it is, the center stand is more like a fulcrum. I'm sure they're will be lots of experimenting with bag placement over the next couple weeks, and hopefully I'll find a ride more suited for touring in Vietnam.

Was way more traffic up here than I'd expected. I take the turn off to the smaller road in about 15 minutes - hopefully the traffic thins out too. I ended up reaching down and pulling out the pillion footpegs to give my knees a break. Even on the short ride so far, they could tell I didn't have enough space.

The ride up hear was pretty loud too, even with the shield closed. Sounded bassy. I wonder if my earplug is touching the speaker and boneconducting wind noise. Another thing to fidget with over the upcoming days. At some point I picked up a small scratch behind my left ear. Doesn't look like anything in the mirror, but makes me dread putting the helmet on. I'd be very happy for that part to break in.

It's been surprisingly hard to find good Thai food this trip. There's a lot more international cuisine than I remember, and the Thai places I've tried haven't been very flavorful. Way fewer old ladies with carts than I encountered 4 years back, but I keep looking.

I'm pulled off at the most crowded place in whatever town this is. I hope the pad thai is good! I'm a bit surprised it hasn't come out yet - it's usually a 2 minute dish.


Using a rain fly for added security, to make the zippers less apparent.

The Pacsafe always feels like overkill (esp since I have to try to keep it from scratching the rental), but it's nice to not have to worry about some/all of my bag walking away while unattended.



Just came out. They weren't shy with the dried shrimp!

I hate racing the sunset, but today my choice was either that, or double-pay for a hotel, spend an extra night in Chiang Mai, and have one less to spend on the road.

Step one was to grab food and coffee. I've never been particularly partial to caffeine. I didn't drink coffee at all until my late 20s, and it's still more of a social/sensual ritual than an intentional boost. It's nice to take a break, chat with a barista, and sip on something warm. In fact, when I can feel the caffeine, I don't like it.

However, there are moments when the caffeine is on purpose, and when I've got to put in nearly as many hours on the road as I slept that night, it seems fitting.

The route to Pai is famous for having over 700 corners. It's also famous for being congested with reckless bus drivers, and for giving each bar in Pai its token foreigner-in-an-arm-sling. So when the friend I made in the moto bar told me there's a better moto route to Pai, and that it's off the radar of buses and tourists, I took note. And when I realized the grin-inducing loop I broke the tires in on last weekend was the first leg of the route, I was sold.

The infamous road is also the one Google suggests. To take the path less traveled, I had to find waypoints to route between. One blog highlighted the Di Bosco coffee bar, so it was a likely stop even if I had the rest I intended. Getting a leg in before breakfast seemed like the right move, as did letting someone else's research save me the time choosing a place.

I have a rule when I travel that I try to only eat things that will be particularly good there. Missing out on delicious Thai food feels like a missed opportunity, as does eating whatever passes for e.g. "pizza" in a place that only started adopting foreign foods relatively recently. My massive bias towards local and delicious sent me back into town when I saw Di Bosco's food menu was primarily international.

So, that's one stop for food, one stop for coffee, and one stop for orange juice at the summit. (How could I not?! Plus, the view was even prettier today.) It felt a bit indulgent to make 3 stops in the first hour when I knew I was already short on time, but I knew fuel was essential to getting my head on straight for the ride. Plus, with the cramped cockpit, I needed those extra stretch breaks.

Di Bosco wasn't enough to teach Google that I wanted the Samoeng Forest route; I needed one more waypoint. I skimmed the route for another waypoint that looked like it might be worth stopping at, and not too far off the road. Khun Khan National Park caught my eye - it was right off the highway, and Google said it had waterfalls. At 45 minutes away, it was once again a little closer than I'd normally intend a rest stop, but with the ergonomics of the Click, it was once again a good time to take a break.

The ranger at the toll booth didn't speak English, so I grabbed my phone and asked if 20 minutes was enough time to see the waterfall. She tried to respond, and caught herself in lighthearted exasperation as she remembered that we speak different languages. I tried using gestures to explain that she could talk to the phone and it would translate, but she clearly hadn't seen that trick before and wasn't catching on. Finally, I asked to see a map, but the map was also useless. While we were talking, a group rode to the barista at the bottom of the hill, so I tried my luck there.

One of the local patrons spoke English. I asked what was worth seeing in the park, for instance: a waterfall. "This is pretty much it" as he glanced to the stream and patchy grass surrounding the coffee hut. "No waterfalls?" "Nope!"

I had loaded the legshield with a water bottle before leaving the hotel. It had a pop top, so I had to down the whole thing in one stop. This seemed to be that stop.

I had originally intended to give myself a couple inches of pillion space to move about, but my bag had ended up taking the whole thing. After nearly two hours on the road and some analysis of the geometry at play, I made a couple attempts to get those inches back. It still wasn't as spacious as I was trying for, but it was progress.

At this point, I was fed, hydrated, and had taken about a 40 minute break. (Longer than I'd intended, but with a less claustrophobic cockpit, I wouldn't feel compelled to stop as often.) My afternoon stride kicked in, and I spent a spirited hour weaving through the forest. It started to feel less like a chore and more like a ride. I have no idea what the speed limit is on rural Thai roads, but it felt like I had to be exceeding it. Yet, Google's ETA wasn't budging. People who use moto mode to plan tours on Google Maps must be similarly-spirited riders.

I must admit, it wasn't particularly scenic. It was a bit reminiscent of other forests - the road between Fort Bragg and Leggett, or Muir Woods, or the ones around Tahoe. There's a lot of beauty in those places, but the roads through them meander between anonymous pine trees, as did the one I was on now. I kept hoping for a vista spot where I could appreciate the mountains I'd been riding through, but the view was perpetually blocked by a slightly tropical pine forest. There wasn't even a place to pee. The shoulder dropped at least 6 inches; it could easily be more. The forest floor can be deceiving, and I certainly didn't want to find myself stuck in pit I can't get out of.

After about an hour, I finally found a spot to pull over. It wasn't scenic - just a dirt parking lot, but it was the first clearing I'd seen in a while that wasn't a shantytown. A few minutes after relieving myself, I crossed a dirt road that looked like it had a bit of a view and stopped for a quick photo, admired the vista, and carried on.

Just a few minutes more, and I passed a grassy knoll with a swing. Seemed like I finally found a good place to stop and appreciate where I was. It was on a small point, maybe 20 feet below the road surface. A family on a green Versys gooned down to the lookout 3-up, posed for some photos, and climbed back up. At the lookout was a little rickety platform with an even more rickety stairwell to an empty doorway. Someone with more creativity than carpentry skills wanted a nice backdrop for their Instagram shots.

Another rider and I climbed up to the platform at about the same time. He was an Italian dude working in Singapore. It's Tet, so they had a long weekend at work. Whenever he has time off, he likes to pop to a new locale in SE Asia, take a quick two-wheeled tour through the scenery, and fly back for the abbreviated workweek.

While we were chatting, a big group on dirtbikes and full kit bombed down the hill and started mugging for photos. They saw two foreigners standing on the platform, and giddly posed for photos with us. It was the first time this trip someone wanted to take a photo of me just for being a traveler.

Google says I lingered there for about half an hour. It was one of the most amusing experiences of the trip so far - the kind of thing that makes you happy to be out in the world instead of stuck in your apartment alone. They spent the whole time posing for photos and teasing each other. Sounded like they were going motocamping nearby.

Aware that the longer I stayed, the more light I'd lose, I carried on. It was about 2 hours to the hotel. This second half of the ride was much more scenic, but I didn't have time to stop and let it sink in. Plus, it was one of those rides where you wouldn't even know where to stop. Each vista seems just as pretty as the next.

As sunset approached, I stopped in the shoulder of one corner to fish out my night glasses and attach the sleeves to my jacket. (Technically it was two stops, since I forgot about the sleeves the first time.) Not an ideal place to stop in normal circumstances, but riding in Thailand isn't normal circumstances. This small stretch of shoulder felt like a big improvement in roadside safety.

Throughout the ride, there were occasional patches of rough road, but the surface was mostly good. The paint told you it was one lane each way, but most jurisdictions wouldn't bother to paint a divider on a road so narrow. Each lane was barely a car width wide. Locals would routinely ride the middle, straddling the line. When I had enough visibility to sneak by, I'd tap the horn, cross my proverbial fingers, pass, and merge back into my lane. There wasn't much oncoming traffic, but I often behaved as the cars that were coming had sirens on, slowing towards the shoulder and waiting for them to pass before carrying on. Yielding feels safer when the paint is merely a suggestion, or when opponent headlights obscure your vision.

Thailand has quite the assortment of roadside animals. There were plenty of feral dogs, but quite content to keep to themselves, none have given chase. One had a litter of pups with her. I passed a rooster standing perfectly in a sunbeam at sunset as a group of kids played in the yard above. If I had a bit more time and/or audacity, it would have been a perfect photo. Maybe having my phone mounted with the quick-release Peak system will teach me to take more impulsive photos on the side of the road. I did stop to take a photo of the herd of cattle, in part because I didn't know what else to do. Shortly after I arrived, a truck and a motorcycle both passed right through. The cows didn't seem too bothered by it, so I followed suit.

In some cosmic joke, I didn't start seeing sand and pine needles on the side of the road until it started getting dark, but the Click's LED brights did their job. I spent the last hour being particularly careful in the corners, but I made it to the hotel without incident. I arrived in that familiar fugue state when you've spent the last two hours of a long day racing to the hotel without realizing how tired and sore the journey has made you until it's time to interact with the world again.

I've found four foot positions on the Honda Click. Like my Vespa at home, I alternated between riding flatfooted and butterflying my knees out. The floorboard isn't long enough to sit straight-legged, so I occasionally pretend I'm a Harley rider and rest my legs on the notches in the legshield. The pillion footpegs provide some nice variety, but that position isn't great on your knees in the turns.

In spite of the cramped cockpit, I'm glad I opted for agility. On these narrow roads, it's nice to know I can put myself anywhere in the road I need to, turning or stopping immediately without incident.

It's got an ABS disc up front and a drum brake in the rear. The pressure on the left lever isn't where I'd like, pulling all the way to the bars. I was careful to keep my fingers out of the way (braking with 4 fingers on the left side) and watched for brake fade as the day progressed. Thankfully, I didn't notice any changes in lever feel over the course of the journey. The brake lines aren't as plump as I'd like them, but they seemed to remain consistent.

I'm still not sure what the range is on the Click. Honda says it has a 5.5L tank, with 1.7L remaining on the last bar, and an undetermined reserve left when that bar starts blinking (as it was when I arrived last night). When I left Chiang Mai, the dash estimated 45kmpl, but I forgot to check it after arriving in Pai. I had impulsively filled up with E20, which is trivially cheaper and trades some range for a bit more power. I had burned about a liter of that tank, so the night before I left I stopped at the station nearest to my hotel to fill up. I didn't want to have to hassle with my bag mid-tour to get to the tank. It was a Shell, which as in the States was stupidly priced: 30% more than the other stations, and with only one grade of E10 on offer.

It was a wise decision. The first time I saw anything resembling a gas station was as I arrived in Pai. There must have been places buy gas in the occasional villages on the route, but they weren't obvious from the road.

For the first time this trip, I'm staying in a place that's actually comfortable. There are no weird smells, and the thermostat unobtrusively keeps the room a comfortable temperature. The bed seemed a bit hard when I first sat on it, but I woke up quite content to spend the morning in it. There's decent water pressure in a waterfall showerhead, and you can approximate the sweet spot between cold and scalding with an acceptable amount of fidgeting.

They say Pai is the kind of place you come for a weekend and stay for a month. My plan at the moment is to use this time as a respite to sketch out what the rest of the trip might look like (reserving planes and visas accordingly). My room is booked for 3 days, but I'm certainly open to extending if this place strikes me.


After an hour on the road, this seemed like the first reasonable place to enjoy one life's simple pleasures: peeing outside.

As soon as you find one place to stop, you started finding better spots just up the road. 🙃





The Lookout

Obligatory livestock-blocking-the-road on a mountain tour

I filled up on gas. It went 200km on 4.25L, which means I should have still had another 60km to go before empty. It would be nice if the meter was a bit less conservative so you had a better sense of when you're actually running low, but I can also appreciate having plenty of leeway before being stuck nowhere.

Every village shop has gasoline, even if they don't display it. Usually in old whiskey bottles. You cannot get "stuck|" anywhere.



At one shop near me , not in a village you can even choose 91 or 95 octane.

Nice! I figured that must be the case. Hadn't seen them here, but remember a similar system in Bali years ago.

I'm spending tomorrow night in Mae Chaem. My flight is booked for Tuesday afternoon, but I could move it to Thursday or Saturday (trading days in Vietnam for days here).

I'm feeling tempted to sneak in Chiang Rai, but that's too much grinding unless I move my flight. I don't wanna spend 5 map hours on a ride, being afraid to stop anywhere cause I've got too many miles ahead of me. I've already arrived at/after dark every day of this tour, and I schedule much shorter days.

So I'll spend part of today pondering extending my time in Thailand for a Chiang Rai loop.

don't forget to do this (in german but has subtitles available)

Thanks - I'll give it a watch.

I'm a few stops behind on tales from the road, but I had a long ride ahead of me as the sun was going down the other day. I found a stop halfway where I could grab food, swap out my sunglasses, and attach the sleeves/reflectives to my jacket.

While I was waiting for food to come out, I pulled out YouTube and looked up the FortNine video for stretching on tour.


My phone was hanging out on that ledge, giving me tips for how to stretch when torn between "I need a break" and "I'm still 75 min away."

One more anachronistic post. I still owe you Tales of the Mae Hong Son Loop - partially drafted, but in the mean time:

I'm leaving for Vietnam on Tuesday. I had booked the Click through tomorrow (Monday) to give myself time to spend the deposit. (They have $100 of my Thai Baht on a $150 rental, which will be worthless to anyone but a bank/other traveler once I leave.) When I booked, I told him there was a good chance I'd end up wanting to extend the rental, so he left a note in my file to call me 24h before to confirm the return date.

As I mentioned in another post, Chiang Mai has Grab, which is basically Uber for motorbikes. It's not too expensive, but it's a mild pain in the ass to not have anywhere to hang your helmet when you're out, and to have to book rides between stops. I figured it would be nice to have the rental for another 24h, and I told the guy so when I got the call this morning.

Then, I remembered the deposit…

Aside from some relatively minor wear on the grab rail from my bag straps, that thing is still flawless after 3 weeks and something like 1400km. Considering that, I thought maybe I could trade my deposit for a driver's license or credit card or something, so I could spend the cash now (and avoid another $7 ATM fee in my last 48h here). The rental shop is quite close to my hotel, so I rode over there after lunch.

The very friendly, confident English-speaker who had rented me the bike was not at his desk. A more reserved chap was in his place. I explained the situation and got a very cold "the contract says you paid the deposit in cash" - no creativity, no empathy. I couldn't even tell if he understood why I came in. I cancelled the extension, giving me 20h left on my 3 week rental.

There was an hour-long wait for a massage. I booked an appointment, ran to the ATM, and hid from the 92F heat in the comfort of my hotel room, awaiting my chance to hide from the heat on a massage table.

I learned to ride in hilly San Francisco. The first thing they teach you is to never trust a kickstand - always use the steering lock and centerstand when you leave the bike unattended.

Much of the moto hygiene I learned there simply isn't present in Thailand, often in obvious ways (see also: people riding with neither lights nor helmets in the middle of the dark). People here tend to park nose-in (which means they back into traffic when embarking), and rely exclusively on the kickstand. My inclination to park on the centerstand, with my nose facing traffic, advertises my American heritage even when I'm not present.

Last night, I returned to the same hotel I departed from two weeks ago. I parked in my familiar space and checked in. When I returned for my bag a few minutes later, it was surrounded on all sides by motorbikes - volume I hadn't seen in the entire week I spent here before the tour. My American heritage whispered in my ear: fuck, how am I supposed to get out of here?

By the time that became a practical concern, the nearby event that had resulted in all the overflow parking must have cleared. One by one, concertgoers came to dig their bikes out of the almost-literal pile that had accumulated. As I discovered by observing them, Thais don't seem to bother with steering locks either. It seemed totally acceptable to move someone else's motorbike, total anathema back in SF.

The corollary to San Francisco's "always use the centerstand" rule is that if upon returning to ride you find the kickstand out, your bike has been molested while you're away. Walking over to my massage, I noticed the kickstand was out.

Since I use the steering lock, and I hadn't to-my-knowledge parked where I could have been in someone's way, I couldn't imagine any reason for someone to move the Click. Seeing the kickstand out unlocked that familiar fear: someone knocked this over. Sure enough, there are scratches in the familiar places: legshield, foot peg, mirror. 20 days into a 21 day rental on a brand new, uninsured bike, somebody knocked it over. 😫

After my massage, I notified the very friendly girl at the front desk. She confirmed there are cameras in front of the building. While I was drafting this post, she rang my room. They found it on tape, being hit by a laundry truck. They'll call the laundry company in the morning.

You could have come to Phayao.

That was on the list of places I was considering, but spending those last days in Chiang Mai was the right call.

I was particularly glad I had an extra day to return the Click. I rolled over there at 10:30. It was due back by 11.

The same unhelpful guy from the day before was sitting at the desk. He walked outside and gave it a token once-over. If I was less honest, I probably could have been in-and-out, but I volunteered that it had been knocked over the night before. That triggered a flurry of snapshots and text messages between him and his unseen colleagues. We went back inside.

"This wasn't your fault right?"
"No, it was the hotel laundry."
"Do you have proof?"
"You can call them. Here's the name."
"You can call them."

I really didn't understand why he wanted an obvious foreigner to call a Thai phone number that he could just as easily call himself, and I don't even know if my tourist SIM could place calls. I told him the hotel was just a few minutes up the road and we could go over there.

"Okay, but I'm alone here. I'll need to have someone come to the shop."
"Then I'll go get breakfast and come back at 11?"
"Okay, come back at 11."

I came back at 11. He directed me to sit down, and then totally ignored me for about 20 more minutes. I started to get impatient and finally asked how much the damage would cost if I just paid it. I really didn't want to spend my last day in Chiang Mai sitting in not-quite-the-DMV.

"4000THB!"

I started haggling. It was only $120, but it was 33% more than the deposit, and more than I'd been led to believe parts cost in Thailand. He said he was trying to help me, and that his colleague would be there any minute. Sure enough, the friendly guy I had rented from showed up a short while later. We rode over to the hotel together. He talked with the manager for a while in Thai, went back to the shop, and returned with my full deposit.

It all worked out, but I was definitely glad I didn't have a flight to catch that day. I took a cooking class in the afternoon that picked me up in a songthaew, so I mostly didn't miss having my own transportation.

In retrospect, I probably shouldn't have been surprised that it took more than 20 minutes for him to have someone come man the shop. Although, I was surprised that he was so concerned in the first place, since the door was locked during business hours when I first tried to rent. I texted them and someone met me there a few minutes later, which framed my expectations for the return as well.

This trip is starting to remind me of the Italy trip, where I'd draft posts in my head while I was riding, but by the time I sat down to write, so much had happened that I couldn't get it all down (consolidating multiple week stretches into a single post). I do have half of the first Thai post drafted. I should finish it, and write up the rest of that tour while I still remember enough of it to say something.

However, that's not the post I felt called to write today.

---

I'm in Vietnam now. This is the trip that inspired me to fulfill my teenage dream of getting a Vespa. In early 2019, I spent a month+ in Singapore, Thailand, Laos, and Cambodia.

On that trip, I discovered three things:

1. There are places in the world where you can't be a self-sufficient traveler if you don't know how to ride a motorbike.
2. There's too much to see in Vietnam - it deserves its own trip.
3. Riding a motorbike is hella fun!

Hence: this trip, the one I've been looking forward to for 4 full years. My 2020 Crater Lake tour and 2021 Italy tour were in some ways biding my time until it was reasonable to travel to Vietnam.

The original vision for this trip was to quit my job, buy a motorbike in Asia, and travel around pondering what the next phase of my life might look like. The pandemic has dragged this life-inflection-point out 3 years. Between shifting entry rules, insurance requirements, and the economic mess finally catching up with itself, this doesn't feel like the right moment to quit for no reason. So I've truncated the trip into a 3 month sabbatical.

For reasons, some universal and some personal, these last months and years have been hard. I was the most exhausted I'd ever been when I finally got on the airplane. Motorcycle touring in a very foreign country seemed more intimidating than fun. I was wondering if this trip was the one I should be taking now, or if it's a misguided attempt to fulfill a promise to my self of 4 years ago.

That's how I ended up starting in Thailand. I'd been there before. I remembered Chiang Mai being chill, and Pai being somewhere that warranted further exploration - somewhere I might meet interesting people, so I spent the first couple weeks of my sabbatical riding around Thailand.

There are some friends and family trips happening in April that I'd like to be a part of. Therefore, I've got about 6 weeks in Vietnam. I could do the famous Saigon-to-Hanoi trip in that time, but I'm not here to check a motorbike trip off my list; I'm here to see Vietnam. More importantly, I'm here to hopefully recharge and figure out where to steer my life next. Feeling pressure to grind out the miles, spending nights in some shit motel that only exists as a waypoint between here and The Next Place doesn't seem fun at all.

I still definitely have itinerary editing to do. (I'm not historically a planner - I have been known to get off a dozen+ hour flight to walk around town finding a hotel for the night.)

The rough strokes so far:
- Spend a few days in Saigon.
- Go to Dalat. Spend a few days riding around. Do the loop to Nha Trang and along the coast - it's supposed to be some of the prettiest riding in the country.
- Fly to Danang. Get another motorbike. Ride through Hue, Hoi An, Phong Nha, Hagiang… all the pretty places in the north.

I'm trying to use an airplane to skip as many grind days as possible. That last leg might be whittled down further in the same aim.

For now, I'm in Dalat.

---

Getting a motorbike in Dalat

I spent my first full day in Dalat walking around, both to get accustomed to the town and to hopefully find a motorbike to rent. I was a bit surprised at how much of it can be most accurately described as Old Garbage. Most had no mirrors at all. The ones that did were often small aftermarket pieces of questionable utility (that certainly wouldn't support a phone mount). Some lessors saw a white guy walk up and wouldn't even unlock the door. As far as renting goes, it was not a successful day.

The closest I came was renting a Honda Airblade 150. It's in the same family of peculiar Honda motorbikes that only seem to exist in Southeast Asia, which usually share major assemblies with one another. This one is an older cousin of the Click I rented in Thailand. The gas tank is between your feet, wrapped in a steel rack that would be more at-home in an oven than a motorcycle. The rack eats into your footwell, further restricting how you can rest your feet on the road. I did notice an ABS sticker on it, so that at-least ticked one of my boxes.

Like so many others here, it was missing both mirrors; one of the things that undercut my confidence/excitement about giving it a try. The deal was left forever unsealed when I asked the guy if he'd be willing to move the mirrors over from one of the other bikes and he straight up said "no." I'll probably have it for a week, it seemed like a reasonable (and easy) request.

As I went to dinner, I realized there were four big elements to be on-the-lookout for in a Vietnamese motorbike:

1. ABS brakes, LED headlights - whatever modern safety features I could find here
2. Stock mirrors, both for awareness and so I could mount my phone
3. A charging port (or at least somewhere to stash a portable battery), so I could keep the phone powered during long rides
4. An appropriately powerful engine, hopefully at least a 150

Having had no luck walking in, I opened Google Maps and spent dinner sending messages to numbers that appeared for "motorbike rental." One replied, saying he had an Airblade that met all these expectations.

As agreed, I messaged him the next morning letting him know when I'd be coming by. I grabbed my gear, grabbed some food, and hopped on a Grab over to where Maps said his shop was. I arrived to a three-walled shed of motorbikes, fronted by a locked gate. I texted again. I waited. I shouted to see if anyone was in the back. I asked the shop a couple doors down. I finally got a text back "Wait me a few minute."

While I tried to hide from the heat in the shade of a small tree, one of the men from the shop next door walked over. He was a veteran of South Vietnam, and Dalat's first easy rider. He spent 20 years taking tourists pillion in the area around Vietnam.

Someone rode up, unlocked the gate, and rolled out a freshly-washed 2020 Airblade 150. I took it on the customary test ride, mostly making sure the brakes worked. By this point I had realized I wasn't going to find anything better than this in Dalat. I returned to find another motorbike parked there, with his female friend aboard. It quickly became apparent that she was there to translate.

The rear tire is a Kenda, but it's new. The front is Vee Rubber, which looked like it might be original. There are cracks in the tread that I hope aren't dry rot. I tried to point them out, but he was unconcerned. If I want to do something about it, it'll have to be of my own accord (and expense).

I've rented twice in Italy and once in Thailand. This was by far the most casual transaction I've ever had. He asked for my driver's license as a deposit. I gave him California (I still have the Thai one). I tried to explain to him and his companion that I didn't know the exact date I'd be returning, but I expected to have it about a week. They said it's 150k per day, with no change in price for longer rentals. At the last minute, they asked for "a small deposit." I gave them 500k, which would cover the first 3 days. They seemed satisfied.

Before they rode off, I asked if they had a USB charger. (For some inexplicable reason, the 2020 Airblade has a cigarette lighter under the seat. It's designed for charging, but it's BYO charger.) They keyed the address of an electronics shop into my phone.

A small goose chase and $9 later, I emerged with a USB charger and an extension cord. Over the course of the day, I realized that the charger wasn't actually keeping my phone charged; it was draining much faster than it was charging. I stopped by my hotel room to switch out my sunglasses and discovered the charger also had a USB-C port. As it happens, I had packed a long USB-C-to-C cable, just-in-case I needed one. Thankfully, my phone seems to like the USB-C cord much better.

---

Riding in Vietnam

I was quite happy to have not-ridden in Saigon or Hanoi. Those cities are famous for their traffic chaos, and it doesn't take long to see why. In my 3 days in Saigon, a motorcycle and/or rider made contact with me at least 4 times. On the walking street, an impatient rider's tire abutted my calf. While I was on the back of a Grab, someone else's shoe grazed my leg. Any sense of personal space you're used to on the road in other countries simply doesn't exist here. Even as a pedestrian, I haven't uncovered the rules of the traffic system. You're told to just confidently walk across the street and they'll make room, but "yield to pedestrians" doesn't seem to be in the ethos.

My time in Vietnam's biggest cities was well-spent to start to form an understanding of how traffic works here. At intersections, people seem to weave in. I don't mean "weave" in the "dashing between cars" sense, although some definitely do that. Instead, I mean in the other sense - the way you might describe the interplay of your fingers when you've interlocked them behind your head. When making a turn, they'll sneak into a gap, stop, and wait for another gap further through the turn. Keeping in the correct lane on either the source or the destination road doesn't seem to be a concern.

On my way to get the charger, one of these weavers cut me off, pulling straight into my right-of-way and stopping without giving me enough space to adjust. I squeezed the brake levers and felt the backend start to fishtail. Like the Click, this has an ABS disc up front and a drum brake in the rear. Unlike the Click, the left lever isn't linked to both brakes. Apparently, that means you can fishtail this one.

My first destination was to one of Dalat's "coffee shops with a view." I spent my time there watching YouTube videos about what to do if you fishtail. (Seems the answer is "don't change the brake pressure unless your wheels or straight, or you risk a highside when you find traction again.")

I was stopped at a light en-route. Someone else's tire came to rest against my boot. He made an "excuse me" gesture, but it unlocked a fear that had bounced around my brain in the chaos of San Francisco's return-to-office traffic. If he had gone any farther, that probably would have been the end of my Vietnam tour, at the least. Urban boots aren't designed to protect the tops of your feet.

Dalat is laid out unlike anywhere I've been before. Like many mountain towns, a collection of roads bend between the buildings. Dalat is different with tiny alleys that connect the roads. They bend every which way. Sometimes a few tight bends in, they'll be punctuated by a couple of stairs, just enough to tell you you can't go that way on a motorbike - good luck turning around. They're also unbelievably steep, and this is coming from someone who learned to ride in San Francisco. I've been on mountain bike courses that pale in comparison to some of these, and then they just T off into a busy street with pedestrians standing on the shoulder where the two meet. It's not quite intimidating, but there is a reflexive bit of mental finger-crossing whenever you descend one.

The bible of riding in Vietnam is called Vietnam Coracle. It's the main site I've been using to pick where to ride and where to fly. They have a collection of 5 daytrips from Dalat. I did the first one today.

It wasn't fun. Hyperbolic internet people like to say shit like "imagine everyone in a car is actively trying to kill you." In Vietnam, that's too close to how it actually feels. I'm so fucking tired of people honking all the time, everywhere. On the first leg of today's tour, two big trucks were climbing the hill I was descending. One was in their lane, one was in mine. The one in mine just honked, like it was my problem for being in my lane - after all, he's bigger. I haven't learned much about traffic here, but the biggest and loudest do act like they own the road, and getting out of their way is everyone else's problem.

There's some nice scenery around Dalat, but most of what I saw today wasn't special in the way that the parts of California, Italy, and Thailand I've toured are. I know there are parts of Vietnam that are.

(The roads where I am now often smell like dry pet food - somewhere between dog and fish. I do not know why.)

Today, I was too distracted by stress to enjoy the ride, either the feel or the scenery. "What if someone else does something monumentally selfish? What if these tires slip?" Those are of course factors on any ride, but in other places, I can find equipment that puts me in my comfort zone. I can expect other road users to approximately behave, or at least to approximately behave predictably. When something does happen, I have confidence in my ability to put myself in a safe place on the road, through a combination of my own skills and a sensibly chosen machine that can speed up or stop when you need it to. As added failsafes, traction control and anti-lock brakes keep the tires where they should be, which keeps the rest of us where we should be.

Anyone who's ever been on two wheels knows there are dangers inherent with sharing the road with other people. Usually we have the confidence to let the pleasures of the ride make those dangers feel theoretical. You only live once, after all. Riding an Airblade in Dalat does not give me that confidence. (It certainly doesn't have the pep of a GTS or a Click.) Maybe I'm tired for whatever reason today, but it wasn't fun.

This isn't how I want to spend my time off. It's certainly not restorative. I've got a lot to consider about the trip I want to have, and if riding around Vietnam can give it to me.

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The coffee farm and ride back

The first stop on today's ride was a coffee farm. It was at the end of a road so narrow that I certainly would have missed it without my phone mounted on the bars. Just as I was in the doldrums of "What the fuck am I doing here? Should I cancel the trip?," I finally caught a glimpse of some scenery that felt special. After a few sharp bends, the cement terminated into a dirt road, which itself was overcome by a small river a few seconds later. Google suggested that I might be able to take an ATV trail around, but some workers I met on the trail assured me that was a bad idea. Trusting neither the tires to keep me upright nor my 20-month-old boots to keep my feet dry, I parked at the end of the road, tiptoed across some rocks peeking out of the river, and hiked 5ish minutes to the top of the road.

There were a couple other people inside who had followed the same map I did, talking to two workers behind the counter. I ordered a ca phe sua da - a Vietnamese iced coffee. The idea of drinking coffee that had been grown a few yards away seemed cool. The experience itself was unremarkable - it was a little sour, not bad, but not particularly delicious. After a few minutes, the workers left us to ourselves. If we wanted more coffee, feel free to make it ourselves. Check the menu for prices, and leave cash on the bar when we leave.

Apparently the usual barista was out of town, and there were questions about which milks in the fridge were still good. I tried making a mocha. Their chocolate was a Hershey's syrup. The only cream I could find was condensed milk, so I experimented. I did finally find a bit of milk that the girl who was at the bar before me - the one who had made the first remarks about not trusting the dairy - could vouch for. The concoction was drinkable, but not delicious.

Shaken by the ride over (which had an additional pall cast over it with intermittent drizzle), I was in no particular hurry to leave. If not for the two other travelers there, I would have attempted a cathartic phone call with my best friend back home. (He's got an infant; I doubt I could have got a hold of him anyway.) The first thing I heard when I walked in was the girl's American accent. I appreciated the company of two people who felt a bit less foreign on a day that everything else felt too foreign. Unfortunately, they were both Main Characters - people who spend their time waiting to speak rather than building a conversation together. I took respite in the moment, but I wouldn't go out of my way to see either again.

The sky modulated between dark, ominous clouds and flits of blue sky. As the afternoon wore on, I became aware that the ride ahead would burn up most of the remaining daylight (not that there was much today in the first place). I waited for an opportune time to part ways, but it clearly wasn't coming soon. I finally made a quick interjection, and said my goodbyes.

Throughout the day, Google insisted there was only a minuscule chance of rain, with no accumulation to speak of. Indeed, it never rained too hard - enough to get you to put your rain layers on, but not enough to make you glad you had. The drizzle that began just as I twisted the throttle away from there got me to suit up for the first time this trip. In fact, I had swung back by my hotel after lunch to grab them when I saw how dark the skies were. I hadn't even been carrying them with me until today.

It was about 5 o'clock - too early for dinner, but late enough that I could definitely use a snack. I stopped at a bahn mi stand. It was actually the first one of this trip - the ones I'd seen until now did not inspire sanitary confidence. Ordering was surprisingly complicated. It took us a minute to establish what the two menu items were (one was with chicken and the other with pork). I thought I'd ordered one. Then, one of the clerks video-called her boss and had me speak English with him - a sweet gesture, but difficult over the sound of the traffic. Along with the bahn mi, I took a mystery banana leaf concoction. Inside was a slice of pork sausage, wrapped in a sticky rice bun.

I caught a few glimpses of sunset breaking through the clouds on the way back, which punctuated the end of the day with some of the scenery that had been missing in the middle. It's nearly midnight now, so I guess that bahn mi was dinner after all. I don't know why I felt worn out all day today, but it's probably a sign that tomorrow needs to be chill. I need to make arrangements for the mini tour this weekend, and find a good massage.

Oh yeah, and meditate on if I still want to be here.


The charge cable running from the underseat bucket

under the fuel tank rack, and up to the bars

Is this tire safe?

Dalat's descents belong on a mountain bike track

The end of the road

across this stream

to get this view

Making my own coffee



An actual roadside snack

while being kissed-off by the sunset

Taking a break from some of the longer posts:

One of the post-pandemic oddities of Vietnam is that 90-day, multi-entry visas are no longer offered. (I was straight-up told this by the SF Consulate when I walked in with all my 90-day paperwork in-hand.) The well-known workaround is to go to Lao Bao (the land border with Laos), get a Lao visa, and then immediately re-enter Vietnam with a fresh Viet visa. (It's so well-known that the Vietnamese border guard finishes with "now go to Laos and get a stamp." I could tell stories about the visa run experience, but I promised to keep this post short.)

I walked out with my new visa at 1PM on the day my last visa expired with a decision to make: stay a second night near the Laotian border, or carry on towards Phong Nha - one of the famously gorgeous parts of Vietnam, and one I've been looking forward to since I started thinking about this trip in 2019. It feels really good to be on this side of the visa run, where I don't have to worry about getting to a particular place before my visa expires, but I'm still not keen to waste vacation days in not-great places. I decided to go for it.

The wrinkle is that it's about 6h of riding time (plus stops) to get to Phong Nha. There's exactly one town with overnight accommodation. The choices there are "OMG this is a shithole" and "we all pretend this new shithole is 5 stars, because have you seen the other one?!" Still, the place I stayed near Lao Bao won't be winning any awards, and I was excited to closer to the good stuff.

I rolled into town about half an hour after sunset. The lights at the newer hotel were on and the doors were open. I shouted "Xinchao!" (hello!), and someone peeked out from the kitchen. He motioned for me to follow him up the stairs, and gestured towards a room with an open door and a key hanging out of it. As soon as he saw I understood I could sleep here, he went back downstairs. There was no talk of room rates, check out times, or if breakfast was included. I tried to ignore the dead bugs on the floor because I was just glad this place existed. All I had up to this point were internet rumors, a spartan Google Maps listing, and hope.

I went back downstairs and asked about food. (I don't remember if I used Google Translate or charades.) He asked with gestures if I wanted to shower, but I told him I wanted to get food first. He pointed up the road and said "pho!" I popped on my motorbike and gave myself a little tour of the town, riding past the place he'd pointed towards and taking a peek to see if I had any other options before going back.

The chairs were out, but nobody was in the dining room. I walked around the back and found someone squatting on the floor, working on something. I asked (with gestures) if they were open for food. He walked back to the entry and picked up a plastic bag of cold rice noodles. Detecting my lack of enthusiasm for spartan mystery takeaway, he promptly shooed me away.

The other option I'd encountered in my exploration had a bright neon rope outside beckoning visitors, but was equally empty. The sign under the rope advertised "bun" (cold rice noodles like the ones offered at the other shop, usually served with meat and herbs), "pho" (the famous noodle soup), and "com" (steamed rice, also usually served with meat). I parked and walked in.

Next to the door was a seven year old boy, watching TikTok videos on the big screen and speakers. Each video was set to the same relentlessly shitty EDM track, so it sounded like he was playing 20s of the worst music you've ever heard on loop, loudly. After a couple beats, he noticed the foreigned standing in the doorway, and ran upstairs to get his dad.

Dad sits me down at a table, and we both get out Google Translate. He keys in "what would you like to eat?" I type out "I like bun cha hanoi and com suon. What do you recommend?" He responds "fish soup," senses the confusion on my face, and adds "we have only one dish now."

In his defense, it was a pretty tasty fish soup!


Arriving at The Only Hotel

The famous "fish soup." I later learned this is a local delicacy called "chao canh ca."

One of the stories I skipped involves Google sending me out onto the moon and under the windmills to get from Lao Bao onto the route to Phong Nha.

Windmills are even bigger than you think they are.