At the foot of Mount Pha Daeng, a sign that read “Unexploded Bombs, Still in this Area. Dangerous!” remained a chilling reminder of the horrors of the Vietnam War. Collectively unmindful of the warning, we reckoned every bomb ordnance buried along the trail stretching to a radius of a few kilometers had all been swept clean already. Laos—by the way—was a vastly different nation then compared to what I had first read in history books.
Hiking to the Mist-Veiled Peak of Mount Pha Daeng | Nong Khiaw, Laos
The clandestine carpet bombing extended by the US Air Force to Laos during the Vietnam War had disrupted the lives of the locals in the countryside. As our young guide, who spoke better-than-average English, was telling us facts about the mountain, I imagined young men like him were among those who had died during the war: young, bright, and delirious with wonderful nature. Amidst all environmental issues and concerns hounding us at that time, he probably knew it was still a good world we were living in today.
Word, I muttered to myself. He would not be there guiding travelers to a mountaintop if the Mekong region had stayed the same. I would never be there as well, if I did not have the liberty to travel. The word “freedom” came to mind as he described to our group the scenery that awaited us at the top of Mount Pha Daeng.
“Sea of clouds everywhere you look. We lucky because we are early. Foggy at the top.”
You could not get any freer than that, I thought. But to enjoy the great outdoors—at its rawest conditions—came with a huge responsibility though: to remain a steadfast, responsible traveler supporting all sustainability efforts.
A Chill Hike to the Forest
Since the town of Nong Khiaw was already located in an elevated terrain, the way to the peak of Pha Daeng was only 1,500 feet away. An achievable hour-and-a-half hike at a steady pace got one to the top. Since I jumpstarted to the lead pack of our group, I reached the viewpoint at around the same time while the sweeper pack arrived in exactly two hours.
I had been to several mountains in the Philippines offering stunning sea of clouds sceneries, but as each one was unique, the panoramic view that greeted me at the peak of Mount Pha Daeng astonished me.
Standing on a big slab of boulder—which had since become a favorite Instagram spot—I was instantly arrested by the moving fog slowly giving glimpses of the valley and the Ou River below.
With my fellow travel bloggers still on the trail up, I took the opportunity to have my portrait taken standing on that rock. With the hazy forested mountainside of Nong Khiaw behind me, I took one leap for joy—a moment captured in one take—by one of our guides using my camera.
Mist-Veiled Valley
As soon as the peak became crawling with our group consisting of several travel bloggers, Destination Mekong staff, local guides, and Luang Prabang tourism officers, I found myself a quiet spot just to let the place sink deeper into my consciousness.
While the sun started showering gleaming rays over the lush tops of the surrounding limestone mountains, the thick fog enveloping the magical landscape earlier had started to clear as if waved by an invisible hand.
Slowly, I caught sight of the town in the valley below; the long snaking line of the Ou River exposed itself. Chocolate brown when seen from the Nong Khiaw bridge, but from the top of Pha Daeng, it looked every bit of glittering gold. We all had a ham and egg Bánh mì for breakfast and stayed at the viewpoint for another hour. At around past eight o'clock in the morning, all the mist had vanished, thus signaling for us to have one last look at the valley below and start our descent.
On the hike down, I once again raced to the front of the pack, arriving at the jump-off first. I told one of our guides that I would not take the van back to town, as I would just set out on foot.
Strolling back, I passed by the rest of the town, seeing little kids waving from their windows, mothers carrying baskets on their heads, and fathers toiling at various tasks in front of their houses. Those were all familiar sightings in most sleepy towns in Asia, but despite my accustomed sight of it all, I could not deny that it was life ordinary at its best indeed.
