Parenting along the 22nd parallel

Sun is up. Status report.

Muscles. Functioning.

Bones. Intact.
Joints. Been worse.

Mosquito bites. Reasonable.

Baby. Snoring.

Alright. It looks like we officially survived day one. I don't want to toot our own horn, but we hiked into the Vietnamese highlands with nothing but a liter of water, two pacifiers, and six diapers.

Toot toot.

Helen and Tom were doing equally well, so we all decided to continue the adventure. We were going to sick with the three day, two night backpacking trip that we accidentally signed up for. So after a better-than-it-needed-to-be breakfast of crepes and fruit, we set of on Day 2.

As you can see, our motley crew tended to attract a crowd.

The surroundings of our second hike were remarkably different than those of our first. We were now hiking along the north face of a mountain range, so the weather was a bit cooler than the day before. The dominant foliage also changed from banana trees to bamboo shoots, and we remembered how close we are to China.

The trail was still muddy from the previous day's rain, but our footing felt infinitely more secure than the day before.

We were feeling pretty confident, even before we overheard a group of UK college students asking their guide where they could catch a cab.

Winning.

Our hike took us along more stunning rice fields and over a couple of rickety Indian Jones bridges.

This bridge was actually, by far, the most solid one we crossed. When I think back to why I didn't snap a photo of the other bridges, it's probably because I was too busy trying to avoid slipping between the planks or falling over the side. Those bridges were the only part of our trip that I was glad Mimi wouldn't remember.

We took a mid-morning break under a mountaintop shade structure. Mimi got a meal with a view, and So could show off our baby to her guide friends.

Around noon, our trail joined up with a small road. We had lunch at a tiny pho restaurant that would have been right at home in any other part of the country. But up here, the restaurant seemed strikingly out of place, and I realized what a different world this valley was. It really was another country.

Mimi couldn't wait to get off her my feet.

After lunch, Aimee took a turn carrying Mimi. So said that the next stretch of trail was relatively dry and flat, so Aimee could try out her new Hmong baby carrier without much risk of damaging it.

They blended right in.

We came across a group of Australians as So was adjusting the carrier on Aimee. They thought that we were wearing So's baby for fun, and they were shocked and impressed that we had hiked this far with our own baby. So were we.

And speaking of babies. I asked So how common it was for hikers to bring their small children. She said that in her five years of 200+ hikes per year, this was the first time she had led a group with a baby.

Winning.

But local babies were a different story. They were everywhere. There were even babies carrying babies.

This might seem obvious, but there are babies everywhere. Even in the Lao Cai valley. Most don't have BPA-free teething rings, gift registries, or internet-connected smart onesies, and they turn out just fine. Several times over the last two months, Aimee and I have reminded ourselves that there are lots of right ways to raise a baby, and we don't need to worry if our choice of diaper material is going to affect which college Mimi goes to.

Ok. Back to the hike.

Our homestay that night was down in the valley pictured above. You can't see the trail behind me because there is no trail behind me. Suffice it to say that our descent was rough. I will show this photo to fourteen year old Mimi when she says that I've never done anything for her.

So didn't seem too worried.

A lot of smiles for mile 16 of the hike.

The criss-crossed concrete that you can see behind So in the first picture above is the hydroelectric dam that was built three years ago to provide electricity to that valley. Three years ago. Before that, So said that they would have to make the day long hike to Sa Pa every weekend to go to the market.

As we got closer to the village, the roads got better and the activity picked up. Even in this remote valley, motorbikes are still the delivery vehicle of choice. This particular driver was moving rice cutlings from one field to another.

The village that we were stay at that night served about 3,000 farmers in the surrounding valley, and felt like a veritable metropolis compared to what we've been hiking though.

This was our urban penthouse.

I've never been so happy to sleep on a floor. And as you can see Mimi loved her giant new play area. We loved that she could crawl around for the first time in two days without the distinct possibility of landing in buffalo poop or getting trampled by goats.

We were joined at the homestay that night by a British family that was taking their 10 year old son on a one year tour of the world. #Parentinggoals. As if I wasn't already impressed, they were encouraging their son to keep a blog of their journey. I like these guys.

They said that they had been saving up for this trip ever since they adopted their son at three months old. But as they were packing to leave, the Brexit vote dropped the value of the pound by a third overnight. This forced them to stay in slightly more rugged accommodations than they were planning on, but they said that they were probably making more memories because of it.

Over another amazing meal of roasted goat and buffalo, we patted ourselves on the back for another successful day. We were so happy that we had decided to explore a second valley. It was more than worth the sore feet.

As the rice wine came around for a third time, we were barely able to keep our eyes open. I retired to our penthouse, and for the second time in as many days, I fell asleep under an open sky and a closed mosquito net. Good night, Lao Cai.