Sa Pa, Vietnam_Day 2: Walking The Road Less Traveled (waterfalls, bamboo forest, and a soccer game)

Moo advised to sleep in, and I took full advantage of the opportunity. I was extremely sore and slightly hungover which led to a late breakfast. The views from our home stay were nothing short of majestic. Equipped with a cup of locally sourced coffee, I was able to lounge in a hammock and soak in the positive energy emanating from my view of the valley featuring soaring mountain landscape, insects buzzing about, children laughing and playing with each other, smells from the wood fire cooking our food, and the intricate Hmong language being spoken.

We started our trek with a steep downhill descent through potato, rice, and corn fields. We all slipped down the mountain, but our guide (Moo) equipped in nothing more than plastic sliders casually strolled down the unmarked path encouraging us to go slowly.

About an hour into the hike, we entered a thick bamboo forest with stalks as thick as my legs. The layered canopy allowed filtered sunlight to spray the forest floor creating a cool layer of moist heat. We passed several village schools while soaking in the panoramic views. Cows, pigs, dogs, and chickens were more plentiful in the villages but rice farming was always the main focus of daily activities.

Moo stated their culture only ate meat during holidays because their main staple was rice. The corn was harvested primarily to feed the livestock and animals throughout the year. Children played along the cement walkways connecting the various homes and villages without supervision screaming joyfully while riding on make shift wooden scooters, pushing wheelbarrows, rolling discarded tires, and whatever else they could imagine. They intuitevly used their environment to keep themselves occupied and happy while their fathers and mothers worked the fields, built homes, and conducted family business.

Intersecting the carefully engineered villages and farmland were man made rivers, small aqueducts, canals, pipes and terracing of the hillsides funneling as much water as possible to irrigate the rice fields and tanks for home use.

Our main objective for the day was reaching the waterfall on the opposite side of the valley. The hike to the waterfall involved crossing a large dam spanning a wide murky river; then another grueling uphill traverse into the jungle. Once we reached the top, we veered back down a steep slick clay trail, past an old withered Hmong woman hawking handmade bracelets and across a bamboo bridge to a small serene pool fed by a majestic waterfall.

The water was clean, cool, and refreshing. I swam with several local kids who careened off the surrounding rocks into the pool and helped me swim up close to the powerful cascading water. 

Another several hours of hiking through the countryside led us to a village soccer game. The field was artificial turf with the rubber pellets dispersed unevenly, but it was missing the foundational cushion creating a cement like surface. In our group, two females had played collegiate soccer in Canada. They tried to enter the all male game, but were “shooed” away by several players, so we had to sit along the side lines and watch the action.

The day ended with a phenomenal dinner with another trekking group comprising seven people from the United Kingdom and France. Momma May broke out the happy water and any awkward barriers were knocked down due to consuming shot after shot after shot-You get the picture. Soon thereafter, the room swayed leading to a great nights sleep 

Day 2 Distance Traveled: 8 miles 

Reflection: Words are a clumsy vehicle to describe the views, interactions, smells, sounds, and feel of the world I had unknowingly been shoved into. At times, I couldn’t conceive this was my life. I had stumbled into a culture; a landscape I had read and dreamed about in books. Most of my life had been spent isolated in a mental prison of my own making, unsure of my place and unable to clearly express my authentic self to those around me. Now, my body simultaneously screamed for mercy from the intense hiking while my mind connected deeply to the moment. This balance of pain and pleasure was what I had been seeking throughout my life through superficial interactions. The spirit of power, love and self-discipline coursing through my body and connection with the free flowing undercurrents emanating from my subconscious revealed a universal truth felt not read about in books, listened to in podcasts, or told to me by any purported spiritual leader. Robert Frost’s words from the poem, “The Road Not Taken” sprang to life, and I think I finally understood the last stanza:

I shall be telling this with a sigh

Somewhere ages and ages hence:

Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—

I took the one less traveled by,

And that has made all the difference.

There were many times on my Day 2 trek when I went silent; unable to talk for long periods of time and possessed with “a sigh” for my thoughts coalesced intimately with the spirit world. My road, your road, our roads will intersect, and I continue to take the one less traveled which is making all the difference.