The Final Countdown

Sooo we have an interesting array of days behind us. More mountains (we never really got rid of them...) with a particularly good spot two days ago of 10k uphill of pure gravel. Actually, it was worse than gravel. It was bumps, unevenness, potholes, and rocks galore. And it was humid. However, it did bring us closer to the third mountain of that particular day, which means closer to the exhilarating descent from the clouds (quite literally) that the final 20k brought with it.

We got through that and through yesterday also, which brought hills but nothing threatening (bar MORE bumpiness). The countryside is also becoming a bit more varied than it has been (oooh another mountain edge, positively enthralling), with lots of cute little roadside villages, a few rice paddies, some woodland and a lot of green. We rode into Bao Loc yesterday to a sign indicating "TP Ho Chi Minh- 188km" (I couldn't quite believe it) and another bearing the promise of pizza (much to the excitement of many an H2H-er).

Pizza cravings fulfilled, thought today would be an easy ride, of sorts. And it was, once we got through another bout of our favourite terrain- about 15k downhill of road littered with rocks the size of fists and a whole lot of trucks to share with. This sounds easy, but we had to go very slowly and ours hands died a little with every squeeze of the brakes (the only way to avoid hurtling off our now-worn-out bikes). Unfortunately we didn't escape unscathed as Jacinta acquired a flat so big that it caused Bac the driver/genius-bicycle-repairer to utter his infamous "Waaaaaa!!" at the sight of it. He worked his magic though and soon enough she was whizzing onwards onto the relatively flatter terrain.

The expected 90k of today was cut short to about 70 after we arrived into Dinh Quan, our destination for the day, with more time with which to aniticipate tomorrow's arrival into Ho Chi Minh City. A combination of feelings from everyone- sadness from not wanting it to end, mixed with excitement at seeing everyone in Saigon and desire for personal comforts ( sleeping in til at least 1pm on any given day comes top of my list). At times you feel the frustration of less challenging flat roads and just want to get to the end, and at others you want to cherish every moment.

Array of feelings aside though, and that fact is that our ride ends TOMORROW. We've gone through at lot and experienced highs and lows (altitude-wise of course), freezing feet and sweaty backs, and the largest combined muscular pain known to man (with the Tour de France a close second :P). Can't believe how quickly it's gone by and simply the fact that we've cycled 2000km, with only the 110 of tomorrow to go. On that note...

See you in Saigon!

-Ronni

Happy Thanksgiving!

The Americans celebrated Thanksgiving by saying "Happy Thanksgiving" and eating lots of pizza in Bao Loc. I washed mine down with a pina colada and I think others chose beer. Or something.

2 days to go and less than 200 km to go. I'm feeling great.

Also of note: I finally washed my water bottles. Sort of. And it didn't really help. But adding orange soda did.

Thankfully, there's only 2 days of potentially nasty tasting water left.

-Justene

Day 24

My Dad, my sister and I were almost finished constructing my sisters bed. We had just finished sanding all the pieces and my sister was priming the parts that had been finished. After the initial coat of primer was applied, we went to Knox Lumber to buy the final ingredient--the paint.

As my sister perused the hallways of paint samples for just the proper shade of pink, I fascinated myself with all the PVC pipe accessories. For some reason all the connectors, joints, and various kinds of puddy drew my 10 year old attention like nothing else.

Finally, my sister had decided on a color. She found my dad who then found me. We took the color sample to the paint section of the store. The man in the red apron behind the dye stained counter read the number and began to open a gallon can of latex paint. When the can was pried open I was astonished to see that it was white. I promptly notified my dad of the mistake. We had wanted pink, not white, paint.

As the man behind the counter went to work "making" my sisters pink paint, my dad patiently explained that the man would add a few bits of colored paint and then the can would be put in a machine and then we would have pink paint. Memorized, I watched the man add just a few drops of paint from the dye dispensaries, arranged circularly around two lazy Susan's in the middle of the paint sections fortified employee's only island. The man then put the gallon can between two sheets of metal connected to some kind of machine. He tightened some bolts so that the can was securely in place and would not budge for anything short of an earthquake. After double checking his work the man flipped a switch and the machine started moving the gallon of paint a centimeter or two vertically with little horizontal movement but at a very impressive speed.

Ten minutes later the man behind the counter stopped the machine and handed us our paint. The few drops of dye had evenly spread through out the creamy white latex to create a uniform hue of purplish pink paint.

Now, I've never been inside one of those paint making shaking machines. In fact, the story above illustrates my only encounter with one ever. Yet, with that said, I can empathize with the paint from the story. I know what the paint feels when it's being created. After the past few days of riding I understand violent, repetitive, and sustained oscillation. See, the roads the last few days have not been of a the highest quality. It's not as if there are gigantic, truck swallowing potholes, the roads aren't bad in that way, no it's the endless series of half inch deep cracks and small bulges emerging through the pavement that have pummeled us riders. My whole body aches, not from the exertion of riding 50+ miles a day, but from the constant undulation of Vietnamese highway 27. These roads have made mush of my knees and scrambled my insides like a Denny's grand slam.

Now, personally, I've been hunkering for a Perkins Belgium Waffle, but I have to say I am hope the roads become kinder and gentler as we approach Saigon. We've only got 300 kilometers to go and I don't want to eat a liver and cheddar omelet for breakfast, even if it comes with a whip cream soaked waffle.

A fun fact for the day...

Another day off and still, none of us have cleaned out our water bottles. Tasty.

-Ronni

My knees say thank you.

Ahhhhhh a day off. In the questionably named Buon Ma Thout no less. Lonely Planet has informed me that this is a boring dusty town. While I could venture through the city and find out for myself, I am quite content to be lazy and take their word for it today. This allows me more time to do the very essential things us riders need to do. This includes: skype, eat, drink coffee (we're in the 'caffeine capitol' of Vietnam after all), journal, buy cheese, and internet (obviously).

This day off is important. Cycling seems to be 60% a mental sport- being that its a lot easier to pedal up hills and through wind if you are thinking positive and REALLY believing that you are capable. The past few days of riding has been a bit o' mean winds and cold temperatures (cold meaning upper 50s-lower 60s F). There are also more trucks and buses on the highways now that we're in the south, and they truly have no regard for those of us sporting non-giant non-motorized vehicles. I've been glad to have awesome riders and a tiny mp3 player to keep my mind entertained and free of negative thoughts.

The other 40% of cycling is physical and I have been more aware of this bit recently. My knees have been less than happy. They've been more.....furious..... at what I've been putting them through. On the evil bitch day that took us through 20 km of 10% incline (described by others in previous blogs) my left knee essentially stopped functioning. That day after lunch I could feel that something wasn't quite right. I tried to pedal more with my right leg. At several points I even took advantage of the fact that I have clip-in pedals. I developed a system: I let my left leg rest on top of my water bottle while my right leg did all the work. It looked ridiculous and didn't help much. Frustrated with my body (or at least one essential joint in it) I begrudgingly got into the van and drove with Bach for the last 25 km of the day. I've spent several days taking it safe and easy- walking up scary hills and just generally going at a super mellow pace. I'm hoping this day off will magically heal all badness in my knee and I'll suddenly be Lance-ette Armstrong.



Here's an exciting example of the roads we've been on the past few days. There hasn't been too too much to take pictures of. Hilary and Katie are biking there if you look closely. Yay trucks and construction!


AND we've gone a full 1,580 kilometers (love me my bike computer) and spent 20 days on our bikes. Damn. Go team.

-Kat

Deep thought of the day

My butt hurts.

Day 21

We're taking a rest day in the coffee capital of Viet Nam--Buon Ma Thuat--pronunciation is up to you. Then, 5 days+ 450km= Pizza!