My biggest adventure: a muddy, “chocolate” ridden, chilly, 11 kilometer hike

Two weeks into my Big Adventure to independently backpack through Southeast Asia, I wasn’t convinced I was having a Big Adventure. After all, I was meeting real globe-trotters who made me look like a kid going on a 2nd grade field trip. But it’s all perspective — in America, when I’d tell someone that I had quit my job to travel, most people would look at me like I was Christopher Columbus. I wanted to tell them “No, I’m just a 25 year old whose read too much Rolf Potts and is curious about the world.”

I landed in Bangkok on November 3, 2010 with no set plans and a borrowed backpack. 13 days into my trip, I found myself sitting in the lobby of the Nga Hoang Hostel in Ho Chi Minh City entranced by a battered poster that said “Sapa” over it. I knew that’s where I was going and that it was why I had come to Asia.

When I finally reached Sapa two weeks later, I signed up for an 11 kilometer hike through the rice terraces. It was absolute magic. At the time, I wasn’t sure what I was looking at. I think like some people, I marveled at the beautiful landscapes. But I think what brought me close to tears was seeing the terraces as proof of man’s capacity to do amazing things. These people literally changed mountains.

While I was taking photos — both digital and mental, fully aware that neither would suffice — I had this moment of realization. How far away from home I was: the long flights; the rough, bed-bug-infested bus rides; the wet, cramped mini vans. How far I’d come to get here: the two years I had spent living at home, working hard, and being tight with my money — the cheap lunches I ate, the skiing trips I had to skip, the drinks I never ordered. It was all worth it.

The trek was fun, wet, extremely muddy, and marked by “chocolate” (also known as water buffalo poop). Mu, our 15 year-old guide, looked at me strangely because I kept on laughing like a little child. I was just having a blast. I slipped and fell. We all laughed. A tourist in a different group slipped, fell, and ripped his pants straight through the crotch. We all laughed harder.

As I departed Sapa on noisy sleeper train, it finally registered that I was having a Big Adventure. While I give them the respect they deserve, I’m not going to compare myself to the vagabond who has been traveling for years. And I’m also not going to say it was Big Adventure just because so many “9-5” Americans expected it to be one. No. This was my Big Adventure — and no one else’s.