Buzz
Our journey began at Ton Station (altitude 1,900 m) at 10 am. The group consisted of 9 individuals, along with three H'Mong guides who served as porters, assisting in mountain climbing and carrying provisions. Here, each of us was provided with a raincoat, two bottles of spring water, two bottles of mineral water, and a pair of gloves.
In the initial steps, I eagerly led the way. However, just about 15 minutes later, the path started to steepen, and I found myself gasping for air. My legs felt as heavy as lead, and I struggled to breathe, gradually falling behind the group even though my backpack was being carried by a companion. At times, exhausted to the point of tears, I silently reproached myself for not having better physical conditioning. Yet, with the encouragement of everyone and a determination to admire the majestic nature surrounding us, I persevered, alternating between walking and resting.
By 12:30, we reached the 2,200 m station to break for lunch. Our meal consisted of black Chung cake from Northwest Vietnam, grilled chicken, and ripe bananas. This marked my first experience with black Chung cake, which piqued my curiosity. According to A Su, our guide, the key to delicious Chung cake lies in its natural deep black color. The color contributes to its delightful aroma and distinctive flavor. The locals meticulously sift ash and straw, then soak glutinous rice in it for about 8-12 hours. Once the rice turns completely black, they drain it and proceed to wrap the cake.
A Starry Night, Devoid of Electricity
After lunch, we resumed our journey towards the final campsite at an altitude of 2,800 m. As we ascended, the path became steeper, yet the magnificent scenery made us almost forget our fatigue. There were towering mountain ranges, drifting clouds, melodious bird songs, chirping insects, rustling leaves, and whistling winds.
The terrain here was even more treacherous, with steep rocky steps and some sections featuring rudimentary iron staircases with simple handrails. These stairs were constructed on rock slabs for climbers to step on. At certain points, we had to cling to small wooden stakes just wide enough to grip, causing us to tremble as we climbed. Further along, we encountered a bridge made of moss-covered tree trunks. It took me a hesitant 5 minutes before I dared to cross.
Observing the H'Mong elders effortlessly carrying loads of food, bedding, and backpacks while walking steadily at the rear of the group, I couldn't help but admire their resilience. Walking at a slower pace also provided me with the opportunity to converse with the locals. Bác Vừ, the oldest guide in the group, accompanied me at the back. He shared, 'In my younger days, I used to lead guests every two days, descending the mountain and then setting off again the following morning. But now that I'm older, I only guide on weekends. The walking itself isn't tiring anymore, but carrying heavy loads and waiting for guests exhausts me.'
Every time I asked Bác if we were close, he'd reply, 'Just another 10 minutes,' and to reach the campsite required more than 5 instances of that '10 more minutes' statement. Thanks to Bác's encouragement, the green corrugated iron-roofed sheds gradually came into view, and finally, I reached the resting place at 5 pm.
At the 2,800 m station, we entered a wooden room sufficient for about 8 people. The room was basic, with a large wooden platform, and in one corner, there were sleeping bags. Here, there was no signal, no electricity. I felt both excited and anxious about the freezing night in this high mountain region.
While the porters prepared food, I curiously ventured into the kitchen to chat and assist. There was only one kitchen, and all the food for the trekking tour to Fansipan was cooked here. Each group had different menus, but they all shared the same kitchen, serving around 20-30 guests each evening depending on the time.
Conquering the Dream
After dinner, we returned to our resting shed to prepare for an early departure the next morning to witness the sunrise. On the way back to the shed, I involuntarily looked up at the sky and couldn't help but exclaim as I saw a sky full of sparkling stars unfold before my eyes, and tears welled up naturally. The stars converged, glittering in the night sky of the Northwest. I reached my hand towards the sky, as if reaching out to touch the stars, feeling the majestic beauty of nature. I was enchanted by the simple beauty of this place, with the night sky adorned with millions of stars that are hard to find in urban areas.
The bone-chilling cold of the mountain night kept us awake. At 3 am, we embarked on the final stretch to catch the sunrise at the peak of Fansipan. The sky remained pitch black, each of us holding a flashlight to navigate the path. The journey from here to the summit was a completely different challenge from the previous day's. This leg was summarized by fellow trekkers as 'ascending to 2,900 m, descending to 2,700 m, then ascending to 3,143 m' due to the towering cliffs and relentless rock faces.
As we ventured further, the path became steep and precarious, with one side plunging into deep abysses and the other featuring rocky outcrops or trees to cling to. I silently thanked my lucky stars that we were trekking in darkness; in daylight, I doubt I would have dared to tread. Thanks to the assistance of the porters, we knew which areas were safe or easier to traverse.
Approaching the summit, I was awestruck by the panorama unfolding before me—the horizon ablaze with streaks of light merging into a perfect natural canvas. The shades of blue blending with orange and hints of pink in the sky left us in utter wonder.
At precisely 6 am, I conquered Fansipan—the roof of Indochina. Gazing at the metal peak engraved with the name of the highest mountain in Indochina, standing resolutely amidst the mist and wind, I felt immense pride and joy. Pride in surpassing my own limits, fatigue dissipating into thin air. I closed my eyes, becoming one with nature, feeling the gusts of wind caress my face, inhaling the crisp, invigorating air.
The best time to climb Fansipan is from late September to March. Among these, October and November are the most suitable due to the cool weather, gentle sunlight, and mild coldness.
Essential personal items include breathable trekking clothes, spare clothing, jackets, trekking shoes, backpack, flashlight, mountaineering gloves, raincoat, medical supplies, etc.
According to Ngan Duong/ Vnexpress
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Reference: Travel guide Mytour
MytourFebruary 21, 2020
