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It’s the flow, and with it you just have to go, even though sometimes you just want to say no – you know?

I’m not so sure about this opening gambit either but it’s 11:14pm and I was out on the bike from 7:40am to 5:45pm, and this is the best I can summon!

Anyway, like cucumbers to the pickling we did go, leaving the hotel in Thai Nguyen to set off for Lang Son, which is 174km and 2080 meters away – which is quite long, son. The group is great. Very experienced, with many of the guys having having been on multiple tours in several different countries. As a result, there are lots of stories and anecdotes to be heard, and a lot of interesting takes on varying topics from people from different walks of life.

It’s like your weekend group ride really – only slightly harder and spanning two weekends in total.

First 45km, all good, rolling well, in the groove, smooth sailing. First pit stop and we eschewed the offer of a cool cafe and a smoothie in favour of a quick stop to keep the momentum going. 5km later we turned off the main strip and went on a rural road that is half gravel and half concrete. Now to be fair, it does seem that this particular stretch has deteriorated further since last year, and there were a couple of jarred skeletons as a result, but nothing that a bit of released air and an Ibuprofen or eight couldn’t fix.

And one we pedalled, through small villages where just about every kid shouted a hello to us, and some even followed us on their e-scooters. It’s amazing what a simile and a hearty hello can do to put a smile on someone’s face, and there’s a genuine curiosity (mixed with befuddlement!) about us that is heartwarming – no other word.

Anyway, on we marched, the heat increasing, the desire for cold Coke burning within. The 2000+ meters came in little rises and the odd significant lump and the uneven surface below made it hard to get a rhythm going.

By 2:30pm we still had 74km to go, yet minds were set, determination steeled, sores arses were shifted on saddles and we pushed on, on, on my son, on to Lang Son!

We did it. Stripes were earned. Calories burned, and something else rhyming with ‘urned’ happened but it’s quite frankly too late to summon the brain cells for one last flourish…

The pillow calls.

164km tomorrow, 2894 meters.

Are you mad?

Yes, happily so…

Two images above by KOJO, all others by Mark Stockman.