Never underestimate mountain passes! When I casually looked at the map this morning, the two dots labeling the Phuoc Tuong and Phu Gia mountain passes somehow escaped my attention. It's not that I didn't see them, they just looked so unassuming as little dots.
Let's start from the beginning. This morning I started off bright an early, planning to eat my very favorite breakfast: bun chay, vegetarian noodle soup. Vietnam is predominately buddhist, and its a custom here for buddhists to eat only vegetarian foods on the first and middle of the lunar month. I was sorely disappointed to see that my stand wasn't there - but I substituted with some fabulous Mi Quang...how to describe...flat chewy noodles with pork, egg, shrimp, peanut and a sweet soupy sauce and lots of fresh greens and sweet pickled veggie and some cruncy rice cracker sprinkled on top. Maybe I should rethink my favorite breakfast choice actually...
Well, off to Lang Co beach. This time riding solo. While many of my friends have been awesome troopers joining me in my rides, they all learned pretty quickly that riding with me is no walk in the park - so if you're not training, I understand how it can be a bit too much. In the end, I was happy that I was alone because it was in fact WAY too much and I would have felt responsible if anyone else had joined me!
The route I took to Lang Co is about 90 km, along the coast and then cutting back to the highway. It was the same route we took last weekend to my friend's village, but further. When I arrived at the village I stopped for lunch and took my time. When I hopped back on the saddle in the afternoon, I asked some locals on the side of the road how far Lang Co was. (This is always fun - usually they're super excited when I say something as simple as "beach? where? far?", and they repeat it back to one another "did you hear that? She said 'beach, where, far?'"! Its good fun but sometimes hard to get your answer..) They responded by saying "OH, far!"...which they usually say to me when I bicycle, and then suggest I take a motorbike instead. But this time I pulled out my map, and unfortuantely, confirmed that it was in fact quite far. Looking at that "little" bay on the map, it looked a whoooole lot bigger looming there in front of me. In my excitement this morning I didn't plan my pacing very well... nor did I take into account the MOUNTAINS between me and the beach. Yes, I saw the mountains in the distance from my friend's village, and last week even commented on how beautiful they looked in the mist. But somehow did not put two and two together. Well, I very quickly put it together once me and my rickety blue bike were battling the mountainous terrain along the lagoon and then switchbacks over not one but two passes! Beyond my burning thighs and calves, the giant trucks careening around the curves did not make it any easier.
My usual style is to just kind of go for it, and see what happens, which usually ends in adventure. I was counting on this today, however, my adventure had a deadline at 3:30pm, when I had to catch a bus to get back home (I chose to go one way this time, to be able to reach a far destination, and then bus home with my bike). So there I was, just me my rickety blue bike and over 35 kilometers of mountain pass in front of me, and the sun already fading into late afternoon. There was nothing to do but kick my ass into gear! (Well, only one gear because I've got a single speed bike...) I munched a few dried lotus seeds to power me up and then bombed up those hills! I would have loved to be one of the villagers that rode past me - I'm sure they were wondering how a foreigner ended up zooming by on a secluded road, with only an old cruiser bike!
The image of my friend Kelly kept coming to mind: of the story she told me about when she climbed Mount Fugi in the middle of the night with only a keychain flashlight. I was perhaps a bit more prepared but not much. Throughout my climbs and exhilirating descents, I kept flip flopping between pure joy, utter fear, all the while asking myself "What was I thinking!?" In the end, I rolled into Lang Co beach at 3:30 on the dot. It was perfection: sometimes things just happen so magically. I don't know how I ended up making it in time but the whole trip was perfect in its imperfection. I've got a nasty heat rash to show for it, but besides that all in one piece. And did I learn my lesson: to plan ahead and to carefully read the map? NOPE, not at all. Because if I did it again, I'd do it the same way. Where would the adventure be otherwise?
