Road Trip!

It was the ultimate road trip, our own version of The Motorcycle Diaries.

One of my favourite things to do in the world is ride a motorcycle. In Sarnia, you get the slightest thrill from tackling the “s” curves on the Indian reserve, or the curves by the airport. The ramp to an overpass is always a cheap thrill as well. And that's it, much to the chagrin of me and my riding buddies.

But driving through the Annamite Mountains more than made up for my deprivation. It was a blast to zip along on the bike, singing my heart out with my iPod, grinning like a fool, because I knew the day was one of those life moments that I knew would be permanently etched in my brain. Plus, biking with other people is always a riot, and to be doing this with 4 terrific friends...it was something I couldn’t have even fathomed in my dreams.


We went up and down, winded through roads, tackled hairpin turns, climbed up up up to be delivered to a cliff with a view so stunning I was certain I was watching a movie like “Lord of the Rings”. Then we would descend into valleys and be completely surrounded by mountains with rock formations and greenery you only see in picture books. Yesterday I surely witnessed the most beautiful scenery of my life- even more beautiful than South Africa or the south shores of Thailand.

I should pause momentarily to give credit where credit is due. An honorable mention goes to Dana, whose motorcycle debut was on these windy roads. The poor thing was a little apprehensive when we originally rented bikes. During her first lesson on her 110 scooter, she somehow hit the throttle with the brake, and when she released the brake, she was propelled into traffic on a busy street. Reduced to tears, she asked if there was a bus she could take to meet us there. But she valiantly tried again and did wonderfully (Ann, no worries- she has improved dramatically).

While the views were spectacular, equally memorable was the culture of the villages we passed through. The cattle did not pepper the road like they did on the early part of our journeys. Only once an obnoxious cow stubbornly planted herself in the middle of the street and stared at us defiantly while we drove around her. The further north we went, the more stray dogs and pigs we saw. We saw dogs fighting, pigs fighting, and even a new litter of piglet feeding off their mama on the side of the road. There was a family of chickens that crossed the road in front of me (Why did the chicken cross the road? To get to the other side. It’s actually true! I saw it with my own eyes!), but the chicks were so little and cute that one couldn’t be annoyed. The one time I was annoyed is when the sun was long gone and it was black as asphalt, and a stray dog ran in front of me. That was definitely alarming.


But the villagers were amongst the most interesting that day. I fear we gave the poor Lao people whiplash! I was surprised that they noticed that we were white people driving through their villages, but they all noticed. Perhaps it was the blonde hair peeking from under our helmets, billowing around our heads. Perhaps it was the cargo loaded on all the bikes. Maybe it was the 2 Honda Bajas in the pack, when you don’t see real motorbikes here too often. Maybe it was a girl on one of these bikes, and granted, my bike is ridiculously loud. But they stared and stared, their round heads following our every move through the town. Naked children lost interest in the games they were playing by the side of the road to giggle and wave. Men stopped working the fields to stare. Women paused while hanging clothes to dry, and adolescents doubling on decrepit bicycles hit the brakes, stared and waved. This happened in every one of the numerous towns we drove through. It was almost hard to operate the clutch, because my hand was waving around to all the children in the villages that were grinning at us and fervently waving, as if we had just made their day a little brighter.

They live primitively in these towns. Their grass huts all look the same, and it wasn’t uncommon to see children toting sticks and wood on their backs, or even carrying their tinier siblings on their backs. There seems to be a community shower, because in every one of these villages, there was a shower like contraption by the side of the road, sputtering water, while people wrapped in towels gathered around. I saw one old man get right down to his skivvies, but Kevin topped that one by seeing an old women in nothing but her birthday suit. He says he was traumatized. Later on a little detour off-roading, he ended up at the community shower and the half naked Lao people laughed and laughed at the white person who was so clearly lost.

We left at 11am and didn’t arrive until 8:30pm, but granted, we had some liberal stops. It was a very long day. It’s cold driving through the mountains at night, not to mention a little treacherous. It was definitely a road trip to be proud of! The funny thing is that kilometre-wise, it’s not that far, but going through the mountains is a slow process.

But we made it to Luang Prabang safe and sound. Most of the guesthouses were sold out, which we didn’t need after a long day like ours. But ironically enough we found a room that sleeps exactly 5, so we had a giant sleepover. I slept quite well, but all I could hear was the rumble of my bike and I swore I was still weaving in and out of windy roads through the mountains.