The end of the rain and our return to sticky rice

Rewards for staying off the highway

Our dalliance over multiple food, coffee and art stops set us back so far as to nearly guarantee a night time arrival in Khâm Dúc, 112km to the west. Taking the backroads out of town through muddy concrete dikes and occasional dirt paths didn't help either, but was worth it to see more of peaceful, rural, coastal Vietnam that we would miss by getting on highway one. Unfortunately, ten kilometers of gradual climbing in the rain remained before us when the sun dropped below the rolling hills. In a stroke of good luck, a large truck chugged up the hill behind us, passing only a few kilometers per hour faster than we were riding. Brooke and I quickly jumped on our pedals and within seconds had grabbed onto the tarp covering the truck, earning a free ride into town. In celebration (actually in an effort to get rid of our Vietnamese dong before leaving), we went to a restaurant with a wonderfully mistranslated menu, where I saw the intriguing "snake head soup" for the astronomical price of 200,000 dong, about ten dollars. My vision of cobra soup evaporated when they brought out snakehead fish soup - a tasty, meaty, boney fish - that just couldn't compete in my mind with cobra.

The last vestiges of the ocean before returning to the mountains

The following morning after talking to Brooke's dad and marveling at our lack of mechanical issues, fate struck back with the discovery of a broken rear spoke on my bike. We had several spare spokes, and while we could theoretically change the spoke on our own, a motorcycle / bicycle shop next to a bahn mi stand seemed to be a more reliable option. The wheel repaired and trued, and my pannier filled with sandwiches for lunch, we headed back into the mountains.

Not the mechanic, just a kid bringing his bike for repair

Khâm Dúc had been the site of an important battle during the Tet offensive, where South Vietnamese army units had been held down by communist forces, requiring heavy Marine reinforcements. Multiple helicopters were shot down attempting to evacuate the beleaguered troops resulting in one of the few communist tactical victories of the Tet offensive. However, unlike Huê, we saw no evidence of the fighting that had taken place for decades prior, apart from joining the eponymous western Ho Chi Minh highway as it ascended the first of two 800m climbs.

Before ascending into the hills

For the first time in a week, we avoided a rainy start, but persistent clouds blocked the tropical sun, making the most pleasant riding of our Vietnam excursion. It even looked like we might eat cobra soup when I saw a family holding a wiggling object on the side of the road. Sure enough, they had a four foot long snake in a bag. My nascent Vietnamese couldn't distinguish what type of snake they had caught, but they laughed and invited us in for lunch when I said it looked delicious. Unfortunately, we had a long day in front of us, and although we made it to Plei Cán on time, we didn't have enough time for the possibility of snake and beer (if it were cobra I would have stuck around).

The kids didn't seem too happy about the snake next to his face.

 Arriving at sunset, I chose a rather ratty hotel off the main road. The trail of ants and free mosquitoes complimented the non-functional lock well, but it served it's purpose of giving us a place to rest (barely) for the night. Fortunately, a great run of street food counteracted the dud of a hotel. 

We find rice concoctions even outside of the major cities

The first lady we ran into on the main street served up an odd but delicious spring roll derivative. She fried shrimp containing batter into a thin, crisp-around -the-edges pancake, then rolled it with assorted flavorful greens into fresh rice paper, before dipping the roll in a peanut, sesame oil sauce. Coming out of her skillet, the dish didn't look as amazing as it would ultimately taste, so we ordered what we thought would be a single pancake, but she proceeded to pile on seven rolls and a basket full of vegetables, then roll them all for us when our product didn't meet her standard. One dollar poorer, we moved down the street for savory, crunchy ban ep, before overfilling our stomachs on pork and rice. Even this bolus of satiety couldn't fully overcome the humid heat of our room, so we slept fitfully while the fan blew ineffectually on our mosquito net. At least the ants didn't crawl in bed with us.

Bahn mi often fueled us for breakfast and lunch

The Vietnamese rain waves a pleasant goodbye

Crossing into Laos the next day didn't have quite the dramatic climate change we had experienced switching countries ten days earlier. Both sets of border guards seemed rather lethargic, and the money changing office had nobody manning it, plus exchange rates that were eighteen months old. Fortunately, we had plenty of Lao kip left over from earlier in the trip. Surprisingly, the forest grew more dense immediately upon crossing the border. It seemed that yesterday's climb on the Ho Chi Minh highway finally blocked the Chinese wind - perhaps that was the climate border between rainy central Vietnam and the rest of southeast Asia. 

I believe this is a Vietnamese hill tribe building, but not sure of ethnicity

We had read that illegal logging schemes, even implicating a Laotian governor's wife, had stripped southern Lao hillsides of their greenery. In our observation, the Vietnamese side appeared browner and grassier with fewer trees and shade. Pleasingly, we spent the thirty kilometers after the border riding up and down well forested roads before dropping onto the plains for a less exciting ninety kilometers to Atapeu.

Young kids carrying knives always cracked me up, but they were hard to get on film

Starting the day with a swim in the Xe Kong

Rough Guide dedicates one paragraph to Atapeu - both the city and the province - but we actually found it to be one of the most relaxing spots in Laos. Our guesthouse, owned by another doctor, perched on a small cliff overlooking the Xe Kong River, which wraps around the city on three sides. The imposing four thousand foot face of the Bolavean Plateau lies west of the city, channeling the Xe Kong southwards to the Mekong. A charming restaurant floated on the river a two minute walk downhill, serving us our fill of firey fish laab and sticky rice. If the pressure of our trip's end did not lurk in the background, I'm sure we would have hung around to explore much longer. 

Looking up the Xe Kong at the Bolavean Plateau

As it was, we had to settle for an early morning swim in the Xe Kong before undertaking the day long ascent up the Bolavean Plateau. Unable to beat the heat up the climb, we found ourselves pulling off the road next to a giant cement orange as the temperature hit 99F. After sharing an hour of iced orange juice with an Australian expat who trains bakers in Pakse, a hundred kilometers west of us, we got back on the bike, only to find 65F rain! As a result, we bypassed several waterfalls in favor of settling into a castle-like hotel in the regional coffee hub of Paksong.

Speaks for itself

While the Bolavean region is Laos' only major coffee producer, the idea of coffee shops and luxury coffee has only taken root in Paksong itself, drawing scooter riding tourists up from the lowlands. Brooke started the day off with rich freshly brewed coffee instead of the traditional sugar/non dairy creamer/coffee combination, and I had tea sweetened with honey from coffee flower fueled bees. After the crisp pine scented air had time to warm up, we leisurely began to work our way down the plateau. Having made almost all of the distance to Pakse yesterday, we had able time to interrupt the effortless descent off the plateau with stops at several gorgeous waterfalls. It's hard to describe how enjoyable zipping along without pedaling for thirty kilometers can be after covering 500km in four days. Sadly, my first flat tire marred this joy, but we quickly repaired the flat and used the downhill to propel us all the way to our hotel in Pakse, where we would take a much needed rest day.

We came across this group of monks taking a swim

Several kids were using Hawaiian slings to spear tiny fish below the falls

Tons of falls coming off the Bolavean Plateau