Day 17: Pleiku – Ea Drang

Distance: 63.49

Time: 5:54

Average Speed: 10.9 mph

I awoke at six, with the intention of getting on the road early, but by the time I’d had breakfast and started, it was already quarter past 8. Breakfast took a bit longer than I’d expected as the hotel wasn’t busy enough to run the buffet, so I ordered Pho Bo off the menu. It was good Pho and the beef was several cuts above the standard fare off the street.

Having missed my turn on the way to the hotel the night before, I’d had to backtrack, so I knew the day would start with a climb from 750 metres back up to the highway at 800 metres. Then, back on the highway, it continued to climb.

I’d read that the South-West Highlands was a valley between two mountain ranges, but it didn’t give that impression. The horizon was empty on both sides but the road was still rising, it felt like I was on a ridge, and eventually the road crested the summit at 917 metres.

The road started to fall, and looking ahead, it felt like I’d fallen off of a plateau. The road had dropped back under 700m at Chu Se, where I picked up some lunch. As I shopped, I was reminded of the vain attempts Pierre had had trying to spend his daily budget. I’d picked up a Banh Mi sandwich for 49 pence, a can of coke, strawberry milkshake and two small packs of Oreo-like biscuits for £1.18, then, to see if I could break the bank, I added a big bag of crisps for 16 pence. If I had a budget, I think I’d be under.

By 30 miles I was at 400 metres, and by 40 I’d dropped below 300, this was the kind of day I’d been waiting for. In my imagination, it was all downhill to Ho Chi Minh City, and I started to feel like I was almost there. But, as the road flattened out, the headwind took hold, and I baked in the 32 degree heat, that feeling soon passed. Then my gears started playing up and I got another reality check.

I’d been carrying a water bottle of soapy water and a spare toothbrush for the past few days, waiting for an opportunity to give the chain a clean, and now my gears were starting to disappear, it seemed like a good opportunity. Under the shade of a tree I gave the chain a good scrub, but it was thick with dirt and grime, I needed more specialist equipment. Moving on to the gears, I released the cable to tighten up the front derailleur, only to discover that the cable had almost completely broken through. Fortunately, I had spares so swapped it out for a new one.

Slowly and steadily I ground out the miles in the mid-afternoon sun, I was suffering but it took me a while to realise that the road was rising again, reaching 600 metres by the time I reached Ea Drang. It was still before 4, but after over 63 miles in a colossal fan oven, it was time to finish for the day.