Rider of the Storm

Riding around in wide circles measured in kilometers, eventually by trial and error I get back on the Trail. A map with new names while old names prevail adds to confusion, posting is poor also, language difficult. After a couple of days and thinking all is well again, just north of Huong Khe, the clutch drive chain breaks. By good fortune, 50 meters up the road is a mechanic, Duc. He strips down the Minsk clutch casing which is holed by the broken chain to reveal the front cog in two pieces. No problem, an hour and a half later he returns with replacement parts. But Duc is not a perfectionist and it takes another 2 hours to lever and hammer the chain into place. After overcharging by a great deal, I do my first night riding into the town of Huong Khe. Minsk repaired but me broke, next day I search for a money changer which I find nearly 2 hours later.

Continuing down the road, I'm not happy with the sound from the chain so keep an easy pace. Fuel stopping in a little village, Trook, I kickstart and c-r-r-unch. Oh no, the chain again. Where is the nearest Minsk mechanic? Literally across the street. With great ease of a true professional, Toan whips off the casing, goes to the shelf and pulls down a brand new chain. Off with the clutch housing which I had suggested to Duc the day before to which he said, no-no-no-no-no, preferring the hammer. Replacing the damaged clutch plates, again off the shelf, securing the clutch cable fiting, 30 minutes later, voila. Good as new. After settling at a fair price this time, I set off once more. To the sweet sound of comfortably meshed chain and cogs, tight driving clutch plates, I confidently hit the Trail again.

Feeling sure I could make Cam Lo, the clouds gathered heavily. Sheltering from a tropical downpour, once at a friendly young mechanic's shop in Phu Qui, secondly 2 kilometers outside Ben Quan, the start of the DMZ, demilitarised zone, in a little corrugated shelter. Horizontal lightening and strong winds bend the trees, the road awash in seconds. The storm passes quickly despite it's intensity, the sky brightens, a full rainbow appears. The last time I saw such an arc was last year on the Isle of North Uist, Scotland when I returned to pay my respects to a recently departed dear friend. On the shore, at the bottom of his croft, triple rainbows appeared exactly from boundary to boundary. I felt Mike's presence again here in Viet Nam astride the rainbow.

With a full heart, on to Cam Lo where the government hotel said, no-no-no-no. This meant 12 kilometers more to Dong Ha. A good inexpensive room, hot shower, air conditioning, fried beef noodles and a couple of local Huda beers saw the end to an eventful day. Khe Sanh is 65 kilometers due west.