Come to Bac Ha and hear stories of horse hooves on the white plateau.

When the pristine white blossoms of the Tam Hoa plum trees blanket the highlands of Bac Ha, the rhythmic hoofbeats of horses resound with pride. On this white plateau, the arduous pack horses of yesteryear have become tourism ambassadors, "brand steeds," and a connecting thread for the aspirations of generations of horsemen at the foot of the mountain passes.

Market by the Nam Cay River

I arrived in Bac Ha ( Lao Cai ) on a misty Saturday morning. The Nam Cay stream flowed lazily, a witness to a new chapter in this land. Since July 2025, when Lao Cai and Yen Bai officially merged to form the new Lao Cai province, operating under a two-tiered government model, life here has undergone historical turning points. These administrative changes have brought a new lease of life, but the essence of the largest livestock market in Northern Vietnam remains intact.

Early Saturday morning, the livestock market by the Nam Cay stream (Bac Ha) awakens from the mist, marking the beginning of a series of lively horse racing festivals on the white plateau.

From 5 a.m., when the fog was so thick that "you couldn't see people's faces," the pounding of horses' hooves on the asphalt shattered the valley's tranquility. The livestock market now meets on Saturdays instead of Fridays, creating a self-contained "cultural axis": Morning at the livestock market - Afternoon horse racing - Evening stroll through the night market - Sunday experiencing the cultural market.

In the air thick with the scent of fresh grass, horsemen lead their horses with one hand, patting the horse's hindquarters with the other as a farewell gesture to their companion. Buyers lead the horses, sellers count the money, and with a mutually agreed deal, horses of all breeds are loaded onto trucks and dispersed in all directions. Some horses go to be companions in the cornfields of Thai Giang Pho, while others are transported by truck to Tuyen Quang, Phu Tho , and other areas...

Mr. Lam Van Thang, an elderly horse trainer with eyes as sharp as an eagle's whenever he gazes intently at a horse's legs, told me: "For Bac Ha horses, you must choose a native breed. They belong to this land, know how to climb slopes, withstand frost, and are extremely easy to train. Don't be tempted by foreign or mixed-breed horses; they may look beautiful, but they lack the 'toughness' of the mountain rocks." To select a true warhorse, Mr. Thang has to examine the horse's lips and teeth to estimate its prime age, check the chest's width to determine if the lungs are large enough, and ensure the four hooves are round and even like inverted bowls to guarantee balance when galloping. It's a whole body of "horsemanship" knowledge accumulated through years of hardship.

Amidst the crowd, I met Ly Van Dai (18 years old, from Ban Pho). Dai didn't bring his horse to the market; the young man of eighteen was there simply to... enjoy the market. "Going to the market" is a strange and refined pastime of the highlanders. They come to meet familiar faces from the Bac Ha Horse Club, to discuss the horse's mane and hooves, and to rehearse their spirit before the race this afternoon. Dai shared: "We have to bring the horse to the market early like this, while it's still young, so it gets used to the noise, the car horns, and the bustling crowds. Then, when it enters the racetrack amidst thousands of cheering spectators, the horse won't panic and become uncontrollable."

Horses are brought to the market when they are still young to "get used to people," to the noise and car horns, so that they won't panic when they enter the racetrack.

Three generations, one love

Leaving the market early, I followed Than Van Duy, the head of the Bac Ha Horse Club, to his house nestled in the Na Hoi valley, where the white plum blossoms were just beginning to bloom. Duy is a prime example of the young generation in the highlands: studying far from home, he returned with a modern mindset to build a career on his ancestral land. Although he has known how to ride horses since childhood, Duy did not choose the role of jockey directly on the racetrack. He chose the role of manager, the "architect" behind the development of the horse club with 50 members. He said that a manager must be someone who keeps the flame alive, connects the passion of the villagers, and transforms the homeland's heritage into an economic leverage.

At home, I met Mr. Than Van Dung, Duy's father. Mr. Dung was once a renowned horseman – the one who dominated the traditional Bac Ha horse race from 2012 to 2014. While meticulously bathing his jet-black horse, which he uses for tourism, with water splashing up in the bright morning sun, Mr. Dung reminisced about a folk "curse": "White horses are very valuable for making horse bone broth, but they should absolutely never be used in races. That breed of horse's eyes become blind in the midday sun, making it difficult to see the road. If you see a white horse on the racetrack this afternoon, it's certainly just a white horse, not a true white horse."

The story of the Than family's horse-riding tradition seems to never end. Duy only has one daughter, a one-year-old granddaughter of Mr. Dung. Although she can't yet walk steadily, her eyes light up with excitement whenever she hears the horses neighing at the top of the hill. This is the silent but enduring continuation of a cultural heritage that has permeated their very being, from the time Mr. Dung rode his horse through the forest, to Duy's homestay business, and the future of the young generation growing up amidst the rhythm of the plateau's horse-riding tradition.

Mr. Than Van Dung meticulously cares for his black horse. For him, the horse is a close friend, a living memento of his glorious years as a horseman.

Embracing the trend of sustainable tourism, Duy invested in "Bac Ha Horse Farmstay." These unique wooden homestays, shaped like horse heads and overlooking ancient plum orchards, offer guests the opportunity to "sleep with horses and wake up surrounded by flowers." Duy's mother, Then Thi Hon, busily constructing a wooden fence for guests to check in, smiled and said, "This way, we earn much more than growing plums. Guests love watching the horses graze right outside their windows, and the sound of their hooves stomping in the evenings is delightful."

These are the "brand warhorses".

At noon at Duy's house, the atmosphere in preparation for Saturday afternoon's tournament became even more lively. Club members gathered, some leading horses, others holding paintbrushes. They were busily using paint to color the horses' flanks, painting the names of famous restaurants and hotels in Bac Ha. This is an extremely shrewd business strategy: the horses become mobile "brand ambassadors." Sponsorship from brands helps the jockeys cover the costs of maintaining their herds – a hobby that is incredibly expensive and requires meticulous effort.

According to Duy, a true racehorse requires special care. Horse riders estimate that it costs around 2-3 million VND per month for feed. Rider Giàng Seo Vư, the 2022 champion from Thái Giàng Phố, while nimbly stroking his horse's mane, shared: “Raising racehorses is a feat of skill. Besides fresh grass, you have to feed them cooked corn kernels mixed with chicken eggs and occasionally a little honey to nourish their muscles. Only with sufficient nutrients can a horse have the strength to sprint powerfully in the final meters.”

To breed horses suitable for Bac Ha, one must select a native breed that can climb slopes, withstand frost, and be easy to train.

Mr. Vu also revealed his hard-won experience regarding horse riding techniques: "The jockey's skill accounts for half the victory. The horses in Bac Ha race without saddles, so the jockey must use their bare feet to grip the horse's flanks tightly as if glued on. But most importantly, they must avoid the slippery concrete manhole covers on the asphalt road. The horses are running at high speed; a single misstep on a curve or stepping on the edge of a manhole cover will cause them to fall. We highlanders don't become arrogant in victory or discouraged in defeat; if we fall, we get up and lead the horse to continue running."

Currently, Duy's club has professionalized the competition. Each weekly race brings together 32 of the best jockeys to compete through qualifying rounds over a month to determine the champion. This unity helps Bac Ha maintain its appeal for tourism year-round, eliminating the need to "wait until the traditional race in June during the plum season to see horses galloping across the sky."

In the early afternoon, even before the match started, the Bac Ha stadium was heating up. The atmosphere was as lively as a real Tet holiday, with vibrant colors of traditional brocade fabrics. Groups of teenagers, young men and women, carrying baskets of bright yellow mustard flowers on their shoulders, spread out across the stands for tourists to excitedly take photos with them.

Francesca and Claudio, two tourists from Italy, shared beamingly: “We chose Bac Ha because it’s not too crowded yet. This horse race was incredibly lively and amazing! In Italy, we have the famous Palio di Siena race, but the horses there are very big. Bac Ha horses are small, agile, and the riders are so brave to ride without saddles. A wild and pure spirit!”

Ms. Nguyen Thi Hai Yen, a tourist from Hanoi, found a more gentle joy in riding a docile horse around the stadium before the race. Trembling slightly as she held the reins, she smiled and said, “This is my first time riding a horse. It feels so tall and imposing, but this horse is very well-behaved. Witnessing the preparations and then watching them race, I've come to love this place even more. These tourist horses are also potential ‘newcomers’ being trained to get used to the arena and the crowds.”

At exactly 3:30 PM, the starting signal rang out as the flag bearer waved his hand forcefully. Dust billowed everywhere. Barefoot riders, wearing helmets, rode their horses without saddles, yet seemed "stuck" to their backs by some mysterious force. The sound of hooves pounding on the dry asphalt was rapid and rhythmic, like the drumbeats of war. No one sat still; they all stood up, cheering with each lap. There was no calculation of chance, only the intense desire for victory of the local men and their love for their loyal animals.

The Bac Ha horse breed is small but agile, and riders don't need a saddle.

Mr. Giàng A Hải, Director of the Bắc Hà Regional Culture, Sports and Media Center, looked towards the racetrack with pride: “Making horse racing a weekly event, starting November 15, 2025, is a bold decision by the government after reorganizing the administrative apparatus. We are not only creating a tourism product to attract visitors, but more importantly, encouraging people to keep their horses, preserve valuable genetic resources, and develop a sustainable economy. Revenue from tickets reaching approximately 60 million VND during peak periods like the recent New Year is extremely encouraging, allowing the tournament to sustain itself and support the riders.”

As the sun began to cast a purple hue over the limestone peaks, the race concluded, leaving visitors with a sense of nostalgia. The healthy horses returned to their special care regimens to perpetuate their breed, or to continue leading tourists on leisurely rides through the white plum orchards.

VOV

Source: https://baolaocai.vn/den-bac-ha-nghe-chuyen-vo-ngua-tren-cao-nguyen-trang-post893926.html