Sa Pa Trek

We exited the overnight train just South of the Chinese border for our stay in Sapa and our trek in the surrounding mountains. We spent a day in Sapa before leaving on our four-day trek. Sapa is another lovely Vietnamese city with a lively market, quite a few tourists, and wonderfully planned community spaces such as a large square and a park with a man-made lake.































The trek was through the hills and valleys of the Sapa region, passing many unique hill tribe groups along the way with the trekking company Topas Tours. It was uniquely different from the Thai trek in that the villages did not seem that they were putting on any sort of show for us. They all still wear their traditional clothing regularly; there was not the sense that they were dressing up merely because we were there.

We began our trek Monday morning with our group, three guides, and several porters. The porters were hill tribe men that carried food for us and cooked our meals--I know: we had pristine treatment. On our first day, we stopped before lunch at a quiet little lagoon below a waterfall. "Swim, if you like!" they said with a smile, knowing that as beautiful and clear as it was it was far from pleasantly swimmable water. This water makes 55 degree Lake Michigan seem like a hot spring. So naturally, I jumped in all the way and swam around. In a sense it wasn't so bad: it was beyond a cold that the body could register, but getting out the feeling of acute stabbing pains lingered. Thank goodness for the hot, midday Vietnamese sun! Day two and day three were both six to seven hours of solid trekking, and these Vietnamese keep a monster pace. It was worth it though; in four days my eyes have rarely before been blasted with such beauty.



--Much of the trek we spent walking through mountains of wet rice paddies. They scale the mountains and hills in every direction, appearing as Aztec pyramids, staired like the ruins at Teotihuacan. We would walk along the ledge of a level or paddy, looking down out at the mountains and green all around and at the reflection of the sky in the perfectly channeled water sitting around the rice on all of the levels.


--We also spent much time walking through rain forest. Think Vietnam movies or Jurassic Park minus the fear. Shades of greens were all around, rich and varied, the forest was thick, and there were always streams of water to be seen or heard. While walking to keep our minds busy we tried to play "I Spy," but quickly learned there was not much more than the one color from which to choose, and it's difficult to guess shades. Now into December, it is much drier than it was during our trek in Thailand. So although much of the walking in the jungle is either steep up or down as in Thailand, it hasn't been quite as much of a slip-and-slide experience. All the same, at times the path becomes pretty thin and if the person in front of you gets more than 15 feet ahead you may have to play "Marco, Polo" to find your way.








Memorable moments:
--Sporadically, walking through tiny villages, sometimes of literally only a few houses, and see the smiling, waving children, the staring adults, and--my favorite--the piggies. I have a peculiar, unexplainable fascination for pigs that I have for no other animal. Perhaps it is because as a child it was one of the only animals that did not send me into an allergic asthma attack.



--Walking past grazing water buffalo (give me pigs, water buffalo, and monkeys and I will be contented for life) who stare with their enormous eyes until you completely pass, shuddering intermittently and slowly eating grass.

--Walking back and forth up a winding mountain, pushing forest out of the way to pass.

--Lying on a boulder in the middle of a big, flowing river waiting for our Vietnamese guides and porters to make us our lunch. As I was taking in the sun lying back with my eyes closed, I lifted my head to look up and realized how absolutely awesome this all is. There were rocks and boulders all around with water flowing through them--water clear and fast with reflections of the sun and the sky--a mini waterfall right in front of me. Layers of mountains spread straight ahead beyond them, and green trees framed the picture on both sides. To top it all off, while I was taking it all in, one of the cooks hopped rock to rock to carry a plate of food out to me with hot sauce and limes, all followed by fresh dragon fruit. Life is sweet.
**All of this was good build up for what was to come: treacherous, steep, never ending incline.

--Immaculate meals! I expected noodle soup and eggs. Instead we got apples, bananas, pears, dragon fruit, spinach, mushrooms, tomato, corn, pumpkin, red pepper, tofu...the list is endless. We trekked like refugees but we ate like kings!

--My favorite Vietnamese porter, a tiny bald man who must have been at least sixty five, offering me his hand on the steep and slick declines. He had a big smile, two gold teeth, and more stamina on these hikes than any of us prime young adults. He did the entire trek carrying our food on his back in a wicker basket, made all of our meals and the meals for the porters, and took more hits of tobacco in the huge water bong than any of the other porters combined.

--On day three, toward the end of the hike we came to where a dam was being built. First there was a noticeable change from barely-there paths to freshly bulldozed roads, and then we came upon the immense valley of machines and workers. They used big "CAT" ground movers and big power tools. There were fresh electric lines and simple, new complexes for offices, storage, and likely living spaces. It was strange coming from jungle, not having seen other people or man made elements for hours, to this. The sounds of the work and machinery shocked the ear after the previous six hours of hearing nothing but water flowing, leaves rustling, and the sound of my own breathing.

--That night, we camped out! The previous nights we had stayed in community centers in villages, but here we were in a huge valley in tents. We spent the evening--which pretty much began at 4:15 after the sun went behind the mountains--by the fire escaping the cold. We had another great meal that your typical American baked beans, grilled cheese and s'mores campers could not even imagine. I suppose that for these hill tribe men, cooking at a fire outside while camping is little different than cooking at the fire at their homes. They have lots of rice wine every night to fight the cold, but unfortunately I am on giardia meds again so cannot partake in the group warming traditions of throwing back shots. Luckily, though, it took me a while to remember that alcohol does not mix well with parasite blasting medications, so at least I got to try it before the connection occurred to me. The nights here are freezing cold, but surprisingly the tents kept us warmer inside than the drafty hill-tribe wood houses had where we had stayed the previous nights. Before entering my tent I took one last look up into the immense sky saturated with starlight, smiled, and slept well in my wool layers and sleeping bag.




--We hiked 60 km in four days, in total! I feel tired, well-exercised, and wonderful. But in spite of the extreme exercise, I ate like a hound to counterbalance, and then some, all of the calories burned.