me holding the title to the new motorbike

In December of 2008, when I first arrived in Vietnam, I attempted to take a motorbike tour of the northernmost regions of the country but turned back because the weather was so cold, the trip would have been absolutely miserable. I ended up motorbiking from Hanoi to Ho Chi Minh City instead and loved every minute of it. Leaving the North unexplored, however, meant I had unfinished business in Vietnam and I intended to tie up those loose ends on this visit.

On my previous 6 week tour from Hanoi to HCMC, I was accompanied by a Vietnamese man named Zoom. He worked at the hotel I stayed at on Cat Ba Island and came to my rescue at the beginning of the trip when my motorbike, a Chinese knock-off of a Honda, “fell ill” and into the hands of a talentless mechanic. Zoom showed me to a qualified mechanic in mainland Hai Phong and then traveled with me for 4 days to Ninh Binh, my first destination, for good measure.

We had such a delightful time traveling together and business was slow at his hotel that he took off an extra 5 weeks and traveled with me all the way to Dalat, just shy of my HCMC destination. When he returned to Cat Ba Island, he discovered that his father had overloaded his (Zoom’s) motorbike and that it was broken beyond repair. He asked me to buy him a new motorbike, but I was at the end of my trip and out of money.

I had thought about Zoom’s request many times in the six months I was in the US before returning to Vietnam this fall. Every time I bought something, I would think “only $250 would buy Zoom a motorbike.” Granted, it would be a crappy motorbike, but it was possible. I had understood him to say that $500 would buy a decent motorbike. Needless to say, in the six months I was home living the typical US lifestyle, I could have bought Zoom’s motorbike many times over with the money I spent on … well, just stuff.

When my own car died unexpectedly and I bought a new one, I thought about Zoom’s motorbike. When I bought a new camera and lens to replace those stolen in the spring, I thought of Zoom’s motorbike. And when I pulled the plug and finally bought myself a house, I determined that I was not going to let Zoom go “motorbikeless” any longer. I knew that I would need a motorbike if I were to tour North Vietnam in the manner I loved best. To rent one would cost about $100 to $200. For an additional $300-400, I could buy a motorbike, use it for my tour and then give it to Zoom, likely changing my dear friend’s life or at least greatly improving it.

a very happy Zoom ... proud owner of a Yamaha Mio

I contacted Zoom when I arrived in Vietnam and told him I wanted to buy him a motorbike. He was ecstatic. We met in Hai Phong and began our search.

We both agreed that we needed a good strong bike, as different as possible from the one I had before which I unaffectionately called “the Fonda” (a contraction of “fake Honda”). Zoom was concerned that I planned to drive in the high mountains, obviously remembering how the Fonda couldn’t make it over the mountains from Nha Trang to Dalat, leaving us stranded overnight in a minority village where no housing could be found. We ended up spending that night under the stars in some lounge chairs kindly offered to us by a family who owned a cafe. Their hospitality was great, but their home wasn’t even large enough to accommodate their own son who slept on plastic cafe tables with a mattress thrown on top. We had to have a truck taxi drive from Dalat the next morning to ferry us and the uncooperative Fonda over the mountains and into “the city of love” as Dalat is known in Vietnam. At that point in the trip, I’d spent $150 US and much lost time on repairs for the Fonda and had lost all confidence in her. As the last leg of trip from Dalat to HCMC also passed through mountainous regions, I gave up and put us both on a bus. I ultimately sold her in HCMC for a very cheap $200 to a mechanic who told me “this bike not good.” Like I didn’t already know. The greatest consecutive number of days when she didn’t need repairs maxed out at the unimpressive number of two. Time consuming near-daily repairs that added significantly to her $400 purchase price had soured my feelings toward the Fonda. I was determined not to get another lemon so all Chinese-made motorbikes were automatically ruled out.

me on the "new" motorbike

Zoom had his mind made up that only a 3-year old Yamaha Nuevo would get me safely through the mountains and not need a single repair. We looked for one for two days but could only find them in the $900 range, well out of my budget. At last we came across a 6-year old Yamaha Mio. Although this bike was small and the seat uncomfortable for many hours at a time, Zoom was convinced that the bike would be reliable and strong enough for mountainous terrain. I was familiar with the Mio, having rented them in Bali and in Thailand. Although the bike slowed considerably when challenged with steep mountains in Thailand, it did make it through them so I felt comfortable with the Mio too. A stronger bike would have been preferable but this one would do. The Mio owner was asking $700 but we negotiated the price down to my budgeted $500. At last, we had a motorbike!

During my last Vietnam tour by motorbike, I had people I met and liked to sign my helmet. It was filled with signatures at the end of my trip and was one of my favorite souvenirs. I bought a new helmet this time, determined to start a signed helmet collection. My first helmet had a funny “Asianism” on it: “Lovey&Stweet.” (No typos here. That’s actually what it said.) Unfortunately, I couldn’t find anything along those lines this time so I chose a cute little red helmet with blue flowers.

I remembered that when Zoom would drive during the last trip, he would frequently complain about insects getting into his eyes. Actually, the first time he told me, he said, “I have an animal in my eye.” When I corrected his Engligh suggesting he use the word “insect” instead of animal, he laughed that the insects were so large, they felt to him like elephants or buffalos. At one time, he was in such pain that he said he was convinced that a buffalo has walked 20 kilometers in his eye. We decided that trekking in Zoom’s eyes was the newest excitement on the animal frontier. As a constant rider/photographer on the bike, I was shielded from all the insects by Zoom. Remembering his unpleasant experiences and frequent stops for insect removal, I made sure to buy a helmet that had a glass I could pull down to cover my eyes.  

At the mechanic again already. Uh oh. I hope this is not a sign of things to come. Here, it seems to take 4 guys to repair the motorbike. Too much testosterone for me! I'm gonna check into the hotel!

After we bought the bike and the helmet, we took the bike for an oil change and to get some lunch. About an hour later, we set off for Hanoi. An hour after that, as we slowed to ask directions, the Mio was making a funny sound. Uh oh. Here we go again, I thought. From all the trouble with the Fonda, I knew exactly the sign to look for and we pulled into the first “xe may” (mechanic) we saw. Zoom’s friend Nguyen lived near the town we were stopped in and came over to see if he could help. About an hour into the repair when I last saw, three guys were leaning over the motorbike, observing the mechanic’s actions and offering advice and ideas. Sheesh. There were too many cooks in that kitchen already and I had nothing to offer. It was 8pm. I could see we weren’t going to make Hanoi that night so I checked into a hotel and went to sleep.

The next morning, Zoom retrieved the motorbike from the mechanic (it was almost a $20 repair; expensive for Vietnam) and got the opinion of a second mechanic who was reputed to be the best in town. “I know that the bike is fixed now and everything will be fine,” he said encouragingly. But I remember him saying the same thing EVERY time the Fonda broke down and was repaired. I’ll never know if he just presented a sunny picture to keep me from worrying or if he naively believed that all would be well. Either way, I had little confidence in Zoom’s reassurances at this point. Only time would tell. Hopefully the Mio just needed a little attention after sitting unridden for sale so long. I crossed my fingers and knew I’d find out soon enough.