Cloud Hunting in B'lao (and Failing)

Before the French named it Bao Loc, this land was called B'lao - a name given by the indigenous K'ho people who had lived here long before.

And the name "Bao Loc" that most Vietnamese people use today? According to Lieng - our guide, a K'ho man born and raised in this region - the original name was "B'lao Sre," which means a land of wet rice cultivation. Over time, as it was adapted into Vietnamese, B'lao Sre gradually became Bao Loc.

The old name is still there - in the roads, in local stories, and in the name of the trekking route I'm about to tell you.

"Cloud hunting" - if you've never heard of it - is what Vietnamese travelers call the act of hiking up before sunrise to see a sea of clouds floating over the valleys below. It sounds poetic.

But in reality - it's more like a test. A test of endurance, patience - and as people jokingly say - a test of your luck.

Because clouds don't wait. They only appear when weather, temperature, and humidity align at exactly the right moment. And no one controls that.

I've tried cloud hunting in Y Ty, Ta Xua, Lang Biang, and Ba Den. I failed almost every time - only seeing clouds once at Ba Den, after my 20th climb.

This time, in B'lao - spoiler alert from the title - nothing changed.

Quick Info

Day 1 - From paved road into the jungle

We left Saigon at 11 PM, half-asleep on a sleeper bus, and arrived in Bao Loc at 4 AM. Found a guesthouse, slept a bit more, had breakfast at 7, and by 8:30 a van picked us up and took us to the starting point.

The trail began at the end of a narrow path barely wide enough for a motorbike, cutting through hills near the pass. Our guides from Odo - local K'ho men, former forest workers - gave a quick briefing on the rules in the forest. We warmed up and set off.

The first climb - and the hardest one

The first kilometer was easy. Wide concrete path, gentle slope.

Then suddenly, we left the road, went straight into the forest - and straight up a 45-degree slope, about 300 meters long.

That climb was enough to make everyone who had just said "this trek seems pretty chill" go completely silent.

Some in the group started breathing hard, falling behind. I told them to slow down, breathe steadily, don't try to keep up with the front - and ended up carrying a few extra backpacks along the way.

That bowl of pho from breakfast? Completely gone by this point.

The grassland between two hills

After the climb, another 20 minutes of walking brought us out to a wide open grassland between two hills.

That feeling - after sweating it all out, complaining the whole way, and then suddenly the space just opens up - is when the exhaustion starts to feel worth it.

Lieng told us this grassland used to be much larger, the whole hill once bare. But the forest has been slowly reclaiming it. Now only a patch remains between the two hills.

I've seen the same thing at Nui Chua Chan - grasslands gradually being taken back by the forest over the years. Somewhere out there, forests are shrinking. But at least here, they're coming back.

Lunch with no bowls, no chopsticks

Another 20 minutes later, we stopped for lunch deep in the forest. No bowls, no chopsticks - everything improvised from what we could find around us.

After eating, we lay down for about an hour, just listening to the sounds of the forest.

The makeshift shower - and the trap that came after

At 2 PM, we reached checkpoint 4 - a stream at the bottom of a valley between two hills. This was the last place to wash up before heading to camp, since there's no water source at the top.

The "bathroom" was a simple setup: wooden frames covered with tarps, divided into five small stalls. Water was manually taken from the stream and poured in through pipes. First time in my life showering like this.

After the shower, I felt completely reset. Clean. Refreshed. Ready for anything.

Then I looked up.

The campsite was on top of the hill. Which meant everything we had just climbed to get here - we had to do it all over again.

Thirty minutes after that shower, I was drenched in sweat again. Like I had never showered at all.

Night on the ridge

At 3 PM, we reached the campsite - a grassland even bigger than the one from earlier in the day. It was still early. We sat there, breathing in the cool highland air, looking out over layers of rolling hills in every direction.

That night, we filled our lungs with fresh air, our eyes with a sky full of stars, our memory cards with photos, and our memories with songs and endless laughter.

Day 1 distance: ~5km.

Day 2 - Not enough luck

I woke up at 4 AM, hit by the cold and damp.

By 5, there was just enough light to assess my situation.

No surprise.

No clouds.

Just fog - the fake version of clouds. Thick, damp, going nowhere. The cold clung to my skin, the moisture clung to my clothes, and the disappointment clung to my face.

We made breakfast, waited until around 8 AM - the kind of waiting where you already know the outcome, but still wait just in case.

Then we packed up and headed back.

Going down - sounds easy. It's not.

The return route was different - cutting straight through old-growth forest down to Highway 20 at the foot of Bao Loc Pass. About 6km, all downhill.

It sounds easier than going up. But anyone who has trekked before knows: after spending all your energy climbing the day before, going down is the real challenge.

Your knees take double the pressure. Your thighs constantly have to brake to keep you from sliding down too fast. Some people in the group started struggling.

Lieng pointed out small huts along the way - left behind by hunters and agarwood collectors who used to work deep in this forest. The trail we were walking was partly shaped by them.

At 12:30 PM, we stopped for lunch by a stream. Another 30 minutes later, we reached a larger stream - second shower of the trip. No makeshift stalls this time, just rocks and cold water running through muscles that were starting to protest loudly.

From here, we could already hear traffic from Highway 20.

Another 20 minutes, and we walked through a natural bamboo arch - and stepped straight out onto the highway at the foot of Bao Loc Pass.

Notes for the trip

• Shoes: Good grip, quick-drying. No sandals, no bare feet.
• Clothing: Light for the day, but bring warm layers - nights in B'lao are colder than expected, even in summer.
• Long socks: A must - insects are everywhere in the forest.
• Backpack: Ideally under 3kg.
• Warm-up: Properly before setting off, especially knees and thighs.

Should you do this trek?

If you're going for clouds: It's a gamble. According to Odo, the best window is during the transition between rainy and dry seasons (around October-November), when temperature differences between day and night cause condensation. But nothing is guaranteed.

If you're going for the trekking experience: Worth it. The B'lao route has primary forest, open grasslands, streams, starry nights - and K'ho guides who tell stories about this forest in a way no guidebook ever could.

I came back without clouds. But I don't regret it.

The bamboo arch and an old question

I've passed Bao Loc Pass more times than I can count. Stopped at the sign for photos, looked out at the surrounding mountains, and wondered - what's out there? Has anyone ever gone in?

Turns out, right at the foot of the pass, there's a trail leading deep into the mountains.

And this time, I walked that trail - looking for clouds, and failing. But also finding the answer to a question I'd been carrying for years: inside, there's jungle, cool streams, starry skies, forest people, and the paths they left behind.

What I was looking for wasn't really the clouds.

Maybe it was just the answer to that old question.

If you want to test your luck, Odo Into The Wild runs this trek - odointothewild.com. 1,850,000 VND/person, minimum group of 7, operating from October to June.

I can't promise you clouds.

But the forest - that's guaranteed.