Pha Luong Peak

A young soldier of the Tây Tiến unit once looked toward mountains blurred by rain, and he wrote down a line of verse. It goes: "Whose home is that, Pha Luông, in the distant rain." The soldier was the poet Quang Dũng, and that was more than eighty years ago.

Pha Luông is one of those places that entered poetry before it entered a tourist map. Since that line, the name has carried a layer of feeling with it, about mountains and forest, rain and cloud, and the hard roads of marching soldiers.

The peak itself stands in Mộc Châu, in Sơn La. It rises to almost 2,000 meters above sea level. People call it the roof of the Mộc Châu National Tourist Area, though that is a popular nickname and not an official name.

Next comes the village of Pha Luông, which belongs to Chiềng Sơn commune. It sits right against the border, across from Sop Bao district in Houaphanh province of Laos.

From Mộc Châu, the last stretch of road to the village is nine kilometers long. It winds across steep slopes and through patches of thin forest before it reaches the first houses.

This is a Hmong border village that has kept its rhythm of life whole. Everyone who lives there is Hmong. They were encouraged to settle here in 1989, and since then they have worked alongside the border guards to keep this frontier land at the edge of the country at peace.

The Chiềng Sơn Border Guard Station looks after more than 11 kilometers of border line and five national border markers. These are guards who, day after day, cross mountains and cut through forest in rain and wind to patrol and keep the border safe. They are people who truly carry the work of watching over the whole border line.

The climb to the summit is hard. The ground is steep and rough, and in many places climbers must grab at trees to pull themselves up. Low cloud often hangs on the slope, so the forest stays damp and slippery. It is not an easy road. Because of that, those who reach the top feel they have truly achieved something.

Few tourist places in Vietnam can offer what the summit gives. The horizon runs away toward Laos. The mountains and forests of Houaphanh lie on the other side, with no fence and no marker the eye can see, only an endless band of green. Standing on the border, between two countries, with cloud rolling over the summit, gives a feeling that is hard to put into a photograph.

If the weather is kind and the cloud hangs low, a sea of clouds can appear. But that depends on nature. It is not a service anyone can book. On a clear day there is something else to see: mountains stretching south toward the plains, and to the north the wide sky over the border.

Anyone who remembers the line by Quang Dũng up there should not imagine that the poet stood on this very spot, looking in this very direction. The newspaper VnExpress has confirmed that the Pha Luông in the poem Tây Tiến is this place, in Mộc Châu, Sơn La. But a line of verse is a feeling, not a map reference. What it means, and what Pha Luông still keeps today, is the feeling of distance, mystery and vastness that fills the border forests in the rainy season.

Pha Luông is still a very real place, a destination that has not been dressed up for visitors. There is no cable car yet, no café on the summit, and none of the handy signposts of many other tourist areas. The Hmong of Pha Luông do not live for tourism. They settled here in 1989, and with the border guards they keep every kilometer of the border quiet. When climbers pass through the village, it is a meeting between visitors from far away and people going about the daily business of their own lives.

That is why people who come to Pha Luông often leave with a different kind of memory. It is not the memory of a polished destination. It is a memory of cloud and forest, and of standing on a border summit and hearing the wind blow across from the side of Laos.