Back in November, after the trip itinerary was finalized, I knew that I wanted to schedule at least one full-day excursion in Dalat. I told myself I would research options once I was on the road, but ended up being busier than I thought I would be, so Laurie offered to look into it. She did some research and sent me a link to a “canyoning” adventure. I assumed “canyoning” was some cute Vietnamese synonym for “trekking” or “hiking” – but in a canyon, obviously – so I signed off on it. Truthfully, I didn’t actually open the link, but I figured I had a rough idea of what we’d be doing.
Fast forward to our first morning in Dalat. Laurie and I are at the office of Highland Sport Travel so we can pay for the next day’s activities. It was at this point, sitting in the office and looking at the posters and listening to the guides explain the activities, that I realized what she had signed us up for. Sure, there was some trekking, but there was also a lot of talk about wetsuits. And rappelling down cliffs and waterfalls. And swimming in a river. In cold mountain weather.
My mental monologue at the time: “Um. What.”
But what was done was done, so the next morning, bright and early, our tour guides picked us up at our hotel and took us to Datanla Falls, a nature site just outside of town with various activities for tourists. The only other people on the tour that day were a lovely Dutch couple and we all listened quietly as the three tour guides gave us their briefings and instructions. Once we arrived at the park entrance, the guides led us down to the canyoning training area, where we dumped everything into lockers, stripped down to our underwear, and pulled on wetsuits, still cold and damp from the day before.
I’m not going to sugarcoat it: I was fucking freezing. I hopped around like an antsy child and blew into my hands while my teeth chattered and my legs shook.
After some more instructions and safety briefings and demos, we all practiced our abseiling on a 20-foot safety wall. The hardest part was fighting your innate survival instinct while trying to lean back far enough to maintain proper form. Once you conquered that, you still had to be mindful of keeping your hands in the right places and bending your knees and keeping your feet the right distance apart. One or two of the guides were always supporting the ropes with their weight, so the descent always felt safe and controlled, even if you were trying to go as fast (or as reckless) as possible.
After a couple rounds, everyone felt comfortable enough, so we gathered up all our gear and made our way through the park to the first waterfall. We passed dozens, if not hundreds, of Vietnamese tourists on the path who were bundled up in clothing that was appropriate for the weather. They were visiting the park to enjoy the other – much more tame – activities and watched us with fascination as we descended the steps in our wetsuits and life jackets and helmets.
(We weren’t allowed to take any personal items with us, so all the photos below are from the tour guides. One had a GoPro and one had an SLR.)
After trekking a bit into the woods and losing most of the crowds, we finally came to the first waterfall. As with all the waterfalls that day, one of the guides gave us a briefing on any specifics before anything else happened. For this first waterfall, we would lean back and slowly walk down, just as we had practiced, until one of the guides gave a (verbal) signal that we should start jumping our way down. Once we got within a few feet of the river below, he would give another signal and we would let go of the rope entirely and fall into the river.
One by one, we clipped in, attached the rope to our harness, and worked our way down the cliff, following the shouted instructions until it was time to take a dip in the water below. I’ve always been quite comfortable with heights, so dealing with that was easy for me. I lost my footing a couple times during the jumping portion (because I wasn’t leaning back far enough), but was able to recover and make my way down the cliff. And gosh darnit if that water wasn’t somehow warmer than the air! After I swam to the ladder and climbed out, I actually wasn’t freezing anymore.
Invigorated by not dying – and I suppose also by the brief plunge in the cold water – we trekked a short distance to the next cliff. We thought we had heard one of the guides say something about a zipline, but when we reached the cliff, there wasn’t anything resembling one. After watching our guides unpack some of the gear and scramble down the rocks to the river below, we realized what was happening: they were building the zipline on the spot. There were hooks already in the rocks above and below, so once the long, neon green ziplining rope had been securely attached to the hook next to us, the rest of it was thrown over the edge of the cliff. One of the guides who had already climbed down fetched the rope, waded through the river to some large rocks very far away from us, and proceeded to attach the other end of the rope to the hook there.
The instructions for this descent were different than the first one. In addition to being clipped into our usual rappelling line, we also had to attach ourselves to the zipline. We descended normally down the cliff until the guides told us to stop, at which point they counted to three and we released the rope entirely, letting the zipline take us down into the river. It was just as awesome as it sounds.
Next up was a spot in the river with some natural water slides. The correct approach for navigating these was laying down backwards, with arms and feet crossed, keeping our bodies as straight as possible and our necks inline. Look at that form!
Even with the “correct” form, I still hit my head kind of hard on the way down, so I opted out of the second slide once I felt a very minor headache coming on. Laurie assumed the coffin pose and went in for round two.
The next waterfall was the tallest of the day: 25 meters, with a relatively slow descent, capped off by a 7-meter drop into the river below. Evidently the rocks are so slippery on this descent that wearing shoes is actually a hindrance, so we all ditched our shoes and waded through the water in our socks to the edge of the cliff. We each walked down the cliff slowly, especially since the water was hitting us in the face. Once we reached the appropriate stopping point, the guide off to the side would yell for us to stop, then begin the countdown for our plunge.
Laurie’s drop was a pretty fantastic “Jesus take the wheel” moment (see below). I think she was fully horizontal when she hit the water.
After getting our shoes back on and drying off briefly in the sun, which finally decided to come out, we walked a short distance to the next cliff, which was for jumping only. Another (much larger) group from another tour company arrived at the same time, so there was a lot of good spectating as nearly twenty people took to the air. There were three heights for jumping: 7 meters, 9 meters, and 13 meters. Our guides reminded us that we had just done a 7-meter drop at the last waterfall, so even the lowest jump was easily doable for us. The guides stipulated that for anyone to do the 13-meter jump, which required a running start, he or she would have to successfully jump from a lower height first. About half a dozen guys ended up doing the highest jump.
I was happy just to get it over with, so I went first and jumped from 7 meters, as did Laurie.
Big props to Jochem – the other guy in our group – for turning his cliff jump into a fantastic air slam dunk. Photo of the day right here:
After everyone from both groups finished their jumps, we all had a picnic lunch in the woods with Vietnamese sandwiches, banana bread, fruit, and even some actual sunshine! By the end of the meal, we were all well-fed and I was finally almost warm. The next waterfall – affectionately known as the “washing machine” – was the last of the day. It was almost the same height as the previous one, but required a descent into a crevasse. We walked down the cliff for only about half of the descent; for the other half, we dangled in the air and continued to lower ourselves with our hands, even while going through the waterfall and getting battered and disoriented by the running water (hence the name). Eventually the rope ran out, at which point we let go entirely, crashed down into the river, and let the current carry us away from the cliff.
The rest of the excursion was about 30 minutes of trekking through the woods, sometimes going over the river, sometimes going through it, and eventually beginning a long, gentle climb away from it. The climbing portion was beautiful, in part because it looked exactly like northern California: tall, thin trees everywhere and even pine cones being crushed underfoot. The continuous uphill trekking definitely warmed up all of us and it was the first time all day that I was actually comfortable temperature-wise. I could have done that for hours!
Before too long, we reached the van and it took us back to the welcome area that we had started at. After changing and grabbing our things, we sat and chatted and drank hot tea and munched on jackfruit chips. The guides wrapped up the day with their thank you speeches and pointed us to the company’s Facebook page, where we’d be able to download all the photos in about a day or so.
In retrospect, I was happy that I didn’t know what I was signing up for. Had I known ahead of time exactly what the trip would include, I might have changed my mind on the whole thing, but once I was thrown into it, I had no choice but to plow ahead. This canyoning trip was probably the most physically demanding single-day excursion I’ve ever done; Laurie and I were both sore for days. I knew I had gotten a serious core workout when I had trouble sitting up in bed the next morning.
All told, it was awesome and one of the best days of the entire trip. I don’t really feel the need to do it again at any point, but I’m happy I can cross it off the list.
