Moped culture rules Vietnam

Motorcycles scare me. Yes they're exhilarating, make the right sounds, usually have great styling and just embody the idea being cool. Still, they frighten me because I crashed on one.

Now, I did not wreck on a big Harley or Triumph, but on a moped at the Brainerd Raceway in Minnesota, a facility that our family once owned.

I was just a kid. I was on the back, the passenger, and thankfully suffered only a broken arm after flying 30 feet and landing on my left side. Call me overly cautious, but there is now a fear ingrained in me that was revisited in a big way while spending two days in Ho Chi Minh City, Vietnam, during my recent honeymoon in Southeast Asia. I was shocked by the experience, and the visuals will be forever imprinted in my mind.

I got my first taste of the moped culture during the first honeymoon stops in Thailand and Cambodia. Mopeds, understandably, are the primary means of transportation in much of Southeast Asia. This makes sense, as they are inexpensive, easy to repair, allow for quick navigation of narrow streets and traffic, and they are simpler to park. But, when our cab pulled out of the airport roads and into the giant, bustling city of Ho Chi Minh, it is safe to say without exaggeration that I have never witnessed a site like it. Hundreds of mopeds within a two-block radius nearly touching each other, multiple people piled on them, children included, yes wearing helmets, thank goodness, and navigating the streets with intention and at high speeds.

It truly felt like I was being immersed in an unfamiliar video game with intense visuals, lots of neon and color and the constant sound of small motors zooming past without interruption. On this warm, humid night, I am not sure what I was more in awe of: seeing the streets and people of Vietnam, a place I had heard and read about for most of my life, for the first time or this unique transportation culture. It was absolute sensory overload.

I turned to my husband Ilya many times in that cab wondering if he was as impressed as I was. He had the same reaction. As I took photos out the cab window all the way back to the hotel, I had to be cautious that I would not reach my hand out so far that I would inadvertently touch the moped riders and cause an accident. The bikes were just an inch or two from our car.

Back at our hotel room, which was on a high level in the building, I gazed out at the traffic. The number of mopeds was growing. It was close to midnight, and instead of hundreds, there were now thousands of mopeds, literally covering the streets and flowing without a break. Businessmen, women in dresses, some transporting goods, some carrying children, riders sitting frontward, backwards, sideways, all focused and moving quickly.

As time passed, the flow switched to teens and young adults aggressively riding through the streets in what can only be described as organized chaos. This continued through the night. Where were they going? Where did they learn to drive like that? How could there not be a single crash anywhere in sight? At what age do they begin driving mopeds? How much does one cost? Do they all wear helmets because of the law or because they want to be safe? And off subject but hugely weighing on my mind, what do they think of Americans? The next day, I got my answers.

The mopeds are the cars of Ho Chi Minh, and the locals ride them everywhere. Of the approximately 9 million people living in the city and surrounding towns, there are about 4 million motorbikes in the main metropolitan area alone. A license is required to ride on city streets, and it can be acquired at age 16. The locals learn to feel their way through the maze of busy roads, and while there are minimal signs and stop lights to help, they ride and navigate without incident.

The mopeds are inexpensive, ranging from $100 to $1,000 or more, depending on whether the bike is new or used. The riders wear helmets to both avoid a fine and stay safe, apparently. And they would appear to still regard Americans as unfavorable.

Before leaving, Ilya -- the daredevil -- insisted on taking a ride on the back of a moped with a man we befriended. Like a worrying mother and showcasing my fears of motorbikes, I urged him to hold on tight and demanded the driver be extra cautious. When they returned from a trip through the city, Ilya said his life had flashed before his eyes at least three times, he had screamed at the Vietnamese man to slow down and ended up just closing his eyes for the remainder of the ride back to safety. The vicarious experience and eyeball-popping visuals were enough for me.

Among her numerous accomplishments, Courtney Hansen is the author of her own book, the host of Spike TV's "PowerBlock," the former host of TLC's "Overhaulin' " and a writer with Wheelbase Communications. You can e-mail her by logging on to www.wheelbase.ws/media and clicking the contact link.