Van Sam is a mountain peak located in Trung Leng Ho commune (formerly Bat Xat district), now Muong Hum commune, Lao Cai province. I considered this trip an experience to satisfy my passion for conquering heights and exploring nature. With my backpack slung over my shoulder and my shoelaces tightened, I knew I wanted to touch the true breath of life. Some journeys aren't measured in kilometers, but in each breath and the vibration of the heart. For me, climbing Van Sam peak was about immersing myself in nature, not just to admire it, but to feel it deeply.
A love song steeped in the scent of the mountains.
Choosing a weekend getaway, we – a group of women in our 50s and 60s – decided to embark on this journey. For us, having conquered some of the most challenging mountain peaks in Vietnam, this trip wasn't too daunting. Starting from Lao Cai ward, we traveled to Muong Hum commune, a journey of over an hour. Then we continued on to the former Trung Leng Ho commune, a stretch of over 30km with some rough and difficult sections. After another hour, we reached the hydroelectric power plant in Po Ho Cao village, which marked the beginning of our climb.
Our first steps led us through terraced rice fields in the season of flooding. Unlike the golden, vibrant beauty of the ripening rice, the flooding season possesses a pristine and pure beauty. The scent of freshly tilled earth, the cool spring water, and the wild grasses along the edges of the fields create a unique aroma – the scent of new beginnings.
Standing before the terraced rice fields during the rainy season, I suddenly realized that this is a "living museum." Every embankment, every stream of water contains indigenous knowledge passed down through generations. It's not just economic value, but a huge intangible cultural heritage. This scenery is truly amazing, both gentle and like a warm welcome that didn't disappoint us right from the starting point of our climb.
As we ventured deeper into the heart of the old-growth forest, the air became thick with the scent of cardamom plantations. This distinctive aroma, like an invisible "energy," permeated our lungs, dispelling the fatigue from our climb. Amidst the vast expanse of lush green cardamom plants, reaching heights of 3-4 meters, taller than a person's head, I felt small yet incredibly peaceful. Cardamom, in the highlands of Northwest Vietnam, especially Lao Cai, is known as the "green gold" of the mountains. The most remarkable characteristic of this plant is its finicky nature; it only thrives in high mountain areas from 1,200 to 2,500 meters. Cardamom cannot tolerate intense sunlight and must live under the canopy of humid primary forests. For the Dao and Mong ethnic groups in Lao Cai, cardamom is their main source of income, helping them to survive in the forest.
One of the most noteworthy aspects of this hiking trail is the streams. Leaving the villages behind, we officially entered the forest. The first thing that greeted me wasn't the steep slopes, but the clear sound of streams gurgling over the rocks in the old forest.
The stream was crystal clear; I could see the moss-covered pebbles at the bottom. I lingered for a long time by the stream, scooping up a mouthful of cool water and splashing it on my face. The refreshing coolness of the stream seemed to wash away all the dust of the city, like a purification of body and soul. The path to the rest stop wasn't too difficult, mostly along the stream or across endless cardamom plantations, and even some downhill sections.
The challenge of the "three-hour" slope
We arrived at the rest stop a little after 1 PM. The weather was favorable, so we decided to conquer the summit that same day. Although our guides said no other group had ever done it before, the weather this season is unpredictable with rain, sunshine, and floods, so if we didn't hurry, we didn't know if we would be able to go tomorrow...
From the rest stop to the summit, the flat and gentle slopes, as well as the path along the stream, disappear, replaced by a seemingly endless, steep incline. Some sections are almost 90 degrees, requiring climbing over rudimentary wooden ladders erected by the local people. In some places, hands grip the safety rope tightly, sweat mixing with the cold mist soaking the shoulders of the shirt.
With each step I took, my lungs tightened from lack of oxygen, my heart pounded as if it wanted to leap out of my chest... But then, looking ahead and seeing my companions persevering, especially the endless primeval forests with their towering trees and rhododendron groves, I continued on.
Because it is a passion, a love for the forest, for nature, for the streams, for the constant chirping of forest birds… it is also a challenge to overcome one's own limits, to cultivate perseverance and resilience.
After three hours, we conquered the long slope. Our local guides said that this Mount Van Sam was a new peak and we were the fourth group of tourists to conquer it. However, some people had already given up, so some people call this slope the "give-up slope"...
The thousand-year-old spruce kingdom
And then, as we climbed the last rung of the ladder, a vast expanse of space opened up before us. I was standing at an altitude of 2,800 meters above sea level. What seemed to take my breath away wasn't the altitude, but the sight before me: a forest of thousands upon thousands of spruce trees, thousands of years old. This isn't just an ordinary forest; it's like a natural sanctuary... and it's the first time I've ever seen a spruce forest so beautiful.
The towering spruce trees, their trunks so thick several people couldn't encircle them, their bark weathered by the elements, are covered in a silvery-gray moss. Their needle-like leaves, sharp and pointed, proudly reach towards the sky. At their base lies a diverse carpet of vegetation: tiny wildflowers, giant ferns, and velvety moss clinging to each tree trunk. Sunlight filters through the leaves, creating a magical glow, like something out of a mythical film. Here, I understand what "heritage" means. These spruce trees have stood here for centuries, witnessing the vicissitudes of nature, enduring countless snowstorms and scorching sun to keep this mountaintop eternally green.
The spruce species I admired is called Fansipan spruce ( Abies delavayi subsp. fansipanensis ) – one of the most endemic and rare plant species listed in the Red Book. This is a tree of the "kingdom of mist," existing only at extreme altitudes where humidity is always saturated and temperatures can drop below freezing. The spruce creates a dense canopy of coniferous leaves, sheltering lower-lying plants such as mosses, ferns, and rare wild orchids below.
If we liken the vast forests of Northwest Vietnam to a living organism, then the spruce forest is its green lungs and also its brain, preserving the memories of thousands of years of climate history. Conserving this species is not just about protecting a name in the biological catalog, but about protecting the entire life support system for the downstream region.
Farewell - see you again soon.
Standing at the highest peak, gazing out at the rolling mountains of Northwest Vietnam stretching to the horizon, I realized I had found the tranquility I had longed for. The descent was still arduous, with sections involving ropes and wooden ladders, but my mindset had changed. I gradually descended to return to the city, to see everyday life again, carrying with me the scent of cardamom, the red of rhododendrons, the coolness of the stream, and the resilience of the spruce trees.
Van Sam is not just the name of a mountain peak, but an awakening. I truly understand why this mountain peak is named Van Sam.
This journey taught me that to reach the summit, one must accept the sheer cliffs. To see the spruce forest, one must overcome one's own fears. I returned to the lecture hall, to books, chalk… but my soul now holds a verdant patch of forest, adding to my wealth of practical knowledge to share with my students about that fairytale spruce forest.
Source: https://baolaocai.vn/van-sam-di-tim-khoang-lang-giua-may-ngan-post899801.html
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