I never rode a motorcycle or moped or anything with two wheels and a motor until I went to Viet Nam back in 2001. They had always scared me a bit – especially the thought of skin meeting asphalt – but more than anything, I just never had the need to ride a motorcycle. Cars, buses and metros were always more accessible than a motorcycle in the US. But in South East Asia, motorcycles are much more common than any other form of motorized transportation.

The first time I rented a motorcycle in Viet Nam, it was with my two partners in travel crime, Mike and Kristen. I did jokingly tell my friends that I was almost wishing for a minor motorcycle accident where I’d maybe get a small scratch just so I could claim that I had an injury from my days ‘Nam. We each got our own bike, but if I recall correctly, I didn’t get terribly far with mine. I kept stalling out and having to walk it to a convenient place to get it started again. Not terribly fun or useful. The next time, I was a passenger on the back of a motorcycle taxi in Hanoi. That was definitely a nail-biter of a ride. At one point we were flying through a narrow market place, going the wrong way, with chickens leaping out of the way for fear for their lives (which probably were not going to be going on much longer anyway).

But by far, the most memorable motorcycle experience was when Kristen and I decided to share a rented motorbike to go out on a day trip. Kristen ended up driving since she had a car with manual transmission at home and knew what she was doing when it came to gear shifting. I sat on the back as the passenger and tried to lean in the correct direction when necessary. On the way home at the end of the day, we were struggling to get up a rather steep hill. Kristen tried different gear and speed combinations, but we weren’t making much progress. So then the light blub went off in Kristen’s head. I can still here her saying “I’ll just shift it into first gear and lay on the gas”. I didn’t know any better – sounded like a good idea to me.

**One important note before I go on…Kristen is quite thin and weighs a whole lot less than I do, so needless to say, most of the weight was distributed to the back of the bike.**

Well Gears were shifted, Gas Pedal applied and next thing I know I am airborne. That bike shot straight up in the air like a rocket. I imagine I had a moment like Wyle E. Coyote where I was suspended in mid air while gravity decides if it feels like working that day. Well it did…next I hit the pavement flat on my back and Kristen lands directly on top of me. Oomph! Oh, God! Is the bike next??? Luckily it fell a little off to the side and we were spared, but still the drop knocked the wind right out of us. Also, luckily, the road we were on was fairly deserted at that time, so no one ran over us as we were laid out right in the middle of the road. It was about another 2 minutes before anyone else drove along and checked up on us silly foreigners. After the shock wore off, Kristen and I both got up, dusted ourselves off, confirmed no major injuries, then laughed our asses off all the way back to the hostel. And just as we were finishing up the last round of the giggles, Kristen noticed that she had a perfect imprint of my face on the back of her shirt from when she crash landed on me. It was like the Shroud of Turin. Round two of non-stop laughing begins. My only regret? That this all happened after we crossed the border into Laos. Damn! No ‘Nam injury to brag about.