They wave me down, also astonished at the sight of me. The scene is bizarre. I shake my head and light a cigarette. You don't have a snowball's chance in hell of making Dalat by sunset. Maybe they didn't understand the snow anology.
Innocence is the seed of discovery - and misadventure.
A couple hours later I roll into the elephant training town of Lak well after dark, ensconced in layers of dirt and grease. I still have another 48 km to Buon Ma Thuot and Lak doesn't have a hotel, so I gas up in the small town, which attracts its entire population. The last hour of the ride is a moonless suicide run. But at least the road is paved. It's about 9 p.m. when I check into my Buon Ma Thuot hotel.