Navigating the slippery rocks on Mount Fansipan

Three dreary days in Sapa filled with wet and cold rain sap even the most boisterous of spirits. When we awoke yet again to thick gray fog, we had serious doubts whether our trek to Mount Fansipan could even begin.

The small northern town of Sapa was built by French colonialists and stands more than 1,500 meters above sea level, close to China’s Yunnan border. It is perched on the side of a valley facing the country’s highest mountain – Mount Fansipan – and the weather is often cold and damp at the end of the rainy season.

In December, the winds change and skies clear for about a month before the weather turns bitterly cold and snow sweeps in from the north. During this period, a layer of mist cloaks the valley though a few peaks can still be glimpsed above the hazy canopy.

Standing at 3,143 vertical meters, Mount Fansipan rises from a series of mountains stretching from the Gulf of Tonkin all the way to the Himalayas. It is the highest peak in all of Indochina and well-known among botanists for the large number of unique plant species in its areas.

With one “foot” in the steamy Southeast Asian jungle and another in the icy crags of the world’s highest mountain ranges, Fansipan draws visitors with a promise of the best of both worlds.

Slippery soil, resilient roots

As the fog breaks, the tour guide told us the weather has improved and we excitedly set off to conquer the mountain.

At the foot of the climb, we were warned jovially that “those up for the challenge should be in good health and prepared to have muddy, wet feet.”

The path progressively narrowed and we began to climb almost vertically through tree roots before descending into a cool, dark and swampy area.

We continued on the trail to the foot of a hill which stretched out like a wall above us. Footing had become a problem due to the slippery soil and we instead clung onto roots and vegetation matted together to pull ourselves onward.

At one point, we stopped and gazed through a gap in the canopy down at Sapa a thousand meters below – a sight that took our breath away.

We continued on and gradually the clearing between the trees revealed Fansipan’s peak some 2,000 meters above us.

At about 3:30 p.m. with the sun about to set behind the mountain, we stopped near a stream and began to set up camp.

Dave, a member of our six-person tour group, grabbed a torch to survey the vicinity only to meet the glare of a large mountain rat hidden among the vegetation.

Another member of the trekking group, 23-year-old Jimmy, was complaining about his sore feet. We were only halfway to our destination but he was already suffering from throbbing blisters.

“I was stupid enough not to follow the guides’ advice, wearing sandals up a 3,000 meter climb,” Jimmy said.

Test of endurance

The following morning, we all enjoyed an early breakfast around the campfire, prepared by our Vietnamese hiking guides.

Shortly after the meal, we noticed that one of the guides had gone off scavenging for something in a stream nearby. A few minutes later, he came back with a skewer full of frogs, apparently ready for barbecue.

With a good night’s sleep and a stomach full of frogs, the six of us recommenced our journey toward the peak.

“This part will be more difficult than the first part,” one of the guides warned.

As we hiked, the plateau area of our campsite gradually disappeared. The four-hour trek to the peak was going to be a steep climb.

Suddenly, a rainstorm appeared and our leisure hike was abruptly transformed into a full-fledged, gut-wrenching, expedition.

It was no place for an amateur with inappropriate footwear and a discount backpack, as the ground churned to mud.

“Man, where’s a chairlift when you need it! I don’t know how much more of this I can take,” said Jimmy. “My sandals keep giving out and I don’t see this slush drying up anytime soon.”

Others were showing signs of exhaustion, but we kept moving upwards, determined not to let the mountain get the best of us.

After hours of blood, sweat and near tears from intense climbing, eventually the end was in sight. The walls of the mountain began to dissipate and our view of the sky opened up with each step forward.

Finally, the six of us all gathered together on a giant rock and gazed out at the resplendent view – we had conquered the summit of Mount Fansipan.

We posed for a photo to commemorate our achievement. The skies had cleared up, it was a beautiful day. The enduring climb had been well worth the effort.

Reported by Mary Nguyen