last saturday, janice, jenny, JC, neri and i drove to clark to attend jacob bayoneta sangil's christening. jacob is janet's second child after jana marie (who is my adorable goddaughter), and we stayed at mimosa from 3:30pm till midnight. janet and jay are producing beautiful offspring so i hope they make more. haha. of course, janet is still the same hitad i've known since 2005, and neither married life nor motherhood has doused her exuberance. here are some photos from the binyag.

Tags: 2k5, friends

Tags: 2k5, anilao, bmw z3, booze, chillax

my AMCI dogtag once looked like a high school project. it is a thin rectangular strip of metal, rounded at the corners, and hanging from a beaded metal chain which quickly lost its luster on first contact with seawater. my name is etched into the metal and kissed with red. i’ve now chipped away the cheapening color. much to my disappointment, i had no particularly life-changing realization, or profound catharsis when i wore the dogtag for the first time, which officially marked my admission to AMCI. perhaps i felt too cold, and perhaps i was more concerned with what would take place in the next days after the induction rites. we still, after all, had to go down from the summit of mount apo. but nevertheless, regardless of the seemingly inauspicious circumstances, the dogtag is something i wear with a lot of pride, what with the intangibles that i ascribe to it: months of toil and hardwork and sacrifices. so it is no wonder, really, that some of my batchmates went to such great lengths just to be able to wear theirs, after they missed the boat to apo.

so on a drizzly tuesday evening, i asked my brothers to drive me to victory liner’s kamias station. it certainly did not bode well for the climb. agaton was whipping some southern provinces, and it wasn’t impossible for it to reach even the highlands. while at the station, things got a little more complicated when at 10pm, 3 inductees and 1 member had yet to be anywhere near the moving vehicle. and these buses happen to be on time. so regardless whether we had already paid for their tickets, the bus left, and not far behind us, a red cab was on hot pursuit. surprisingly, just before we left the diversion for the north expressway, the taxi overtook the bus, and we were happily sailing towards bayombong in nueva vizcaya. but wait. something was still missing. marlon was still leagues away. he’d left bicutan at 9pm, and when we turned for san miguel, bulacan, he was still in EDSA. he’d commandeered a cab to take him to the bus stop for 2,000 big ones.

i tried to sleep soundly even as the hitches to the trip left me smirking, for some odd reason unknown even to me. we stopped momentarily at double happiness where everything is marked up. very expensive chocolate drink, if you ask me, but you’re left with little choice. the 15 minute stop was extended to as much as 25 minutes, and the bus was amazingly slow the minute it left the NLEX. so marlon, by some expensive miracle and maximum speeds of 140kph, managed to join us just in time. he made a taxi driver very happy that evening.

with the entire team already loaded, we sped for bayombong, and although i was most eager to get some sleep, the winding roads at the dalton pass and all along the highway prevented me from getting some sufficient shuteye. ava kept whipping her head on my shoulder each time the bus maneuvered those wild turns and curves, until finally i decided to move to the back. it was bumpy there but at least i spared myself some bruises.

so very early in the morning, where nothing but darkness reigned, we were offloaded on a lonely road. i saw a gas station, a church, and a bland burger joint. our jeepney followed soon after, and i distributed more load to already grumbling climbers. well, don’t load that and we don’t eat. everyone has to carry his or her share of the burden.

the jeepney managed rough roads to the jump-off in ambaguio. by the time we’d reached the place, it was still a little before 8am. we were early and there was still time for breakfast and some last minute packing. this climb would take us on an unpopular route to the summit of pulag, down what’s touted to be a killer trail, and spreading over 5 days, by far my longest single hike. i braced for the worst, and the worst, in fact, arrived. the days that followed, and our resilience to what rain and mud have come to symbolize, are a tribute to the indefatigable spirit that possesses us all. the trek began with an emotional prayer from beng, where she had to hold back tears.

ambaguio is a particularly lengthy, dreary, unattractive, and bordering-on-boring trail. it passes through a few sparsely-populated barangays connected by scores of hanging bridges. the river below winds around these places that have strange-sounding names like ammoweg, binalhi, napo. perhaps i’m being too judgmental on ambaguio by saying what i just said. there are, actually, some hints of beauty, had it not been for the consistent slight rain which accompanied us all throughout this trek. one either looks at the rain as enemy, or as ally, and while i generally regard it as a hindrance to appreciating views and photography, it may, unknowingly, have helped us majorly. blotting out the sun, pouring only sufficient light, we quite literally fought exhaustion and thirst. i had loaded only half a liter of trail water, and this was sufficient for the hike which lasted 8 hours. my body’s thirst was quenched by the gentle drops that fell from brooding clouds above.

after we’d crossed all the bridges, we stopped momentarily at a store. nearby, schoolchildren had amassed to look at us. we were strange curiosities, it turned out, because the entire hour we spent there to eat lunch, they were there staring at us. near the store was a schoolbuilding, which was listed in our IT as camp 1. and it wasn’t even noon yet. we in fact started an hour early, but being ahead of by at least 5 hours was something i hadn’t expected. particularly because we had slow folks in the group. i took this as a good sign, in spite of the rain. and while they talked, someone suggested we camp at binalhi, which the guide said was around 3 hours away, after a tough ascent. oh grief, i thought.

less than 2 hours later, we passed binalhi, and after a bout with serious muscle cramps, which kept me bending my knees, i was thinking, yeah this looks like a nice place to camp! i’ve been having muscle cramps on a regular basis since TC3. always on the first day of a multi-day hike. heavy loads. they’re a bane.

when the entire team arrived, the big bosses assessed the situation: whether it was still possible to push the IT farther. it was still pretty early, and save for marlon, rizza and myself, none had any major difficulties. i’m not sure whether it was at this time that the guide happened to mention that he has a house in napo, which he said would be 3 to 4 hours away still. since TL bossing wanted to drastically shorten day 3, he said napo, separated from binalhi by rolling terrain, seemed to be a good destination for day 1. so off we headed for an imagined campsite, hopefully not too wet.

since after leaving the lunch area (supposedly day 1’s campsite), we started encountering the pesky limatik. i’ve never seen 1 in a long time, not since halcon. and it was not something i expected from pulag, so i was very surprised, as well as ill-prepared, by the presence of far too many of these bloodsuckers. when i reached napo, i hesitated about taking off my pants. i guess it didn’t sink in as fast as i thought that we’d be spending the night in a big house. our guide resides in this upland sitio. they have a rather huge dining area. a pale bulb powered by a solar panel provided some light. in a corner was a 21” TV set probably still awaiting the arrival of power lines. i had fattened about 3 limatiks around my legs. more bites. more flare ups. more scars. sigh.

that night, we cooked my chili con carne. my batch headed to the inner room. as we went about preparing dinner, the steady drizzle turned very ugly. it became a very insistent rain, pouring sheets over napo. i imagined the tasty but terribly-difficult-to-prepare meals that barbs suggested. i imagined what an absolute joy it would have been watching her doing the tortang talong in that downpour.

after dinner, we proceeded to one of the rooms. ava, barbs, and beng shared the big wooden bed. the rest of us slept on the floor: i closest to the window, then janet, carlo, ed, nestor, jay, and rizza. in that order. before sleeping, we chugged my tequila. other than the liter that i brought, only a bottle of gold reserve fundador was available. too little alcohol for the time available, if you ask me. since we had nice accommodations, we had ample opportunity to talk. one topic of course was the election. coaxed bossing, bojo and bert to campaign for themselves and to talk about their platforms, if ever they get elected. we turned in not exactly at 10pm that night, since there were some very serious discussions raging which kept us awake. i just wanted to drink more of the tequila, really.

very early in the morning, 2am i think, i opened my eyes when i started hearing this puppy complaining underneath me. the house stands on stilts, and the puppy is tied almost directly under the window. i would weave in and out of sleep after this. damn puppy. i wanted to wring its scrawny neck. finally, at 6am, we had our wake-up call, and i very gingerly got out of bed. ugh. still, an entire bag to pack. ordered people around. i’m not GL for nothing.

at 8.30am we started the trek to the ranger station in babadak. we hoped to reach it by 5pm, which would still make us more than half a day ahead of the IT. we were informed that the trek for the morning would be the hardest: a steep ascent. followed by more steep ascents in the afternoon. having had my dose of cramps, i figured it would not be too difficult. i had the duty of sweeping a few of the girls, so i had to put the breaks on my hiking speed. this portion of the trek promised to be a little less ugly and depressing. nevertheless, the rain was still a huge factor why i couldn’t take out my camera as often as i would wish.

marching along, we replicated some scenes from previous days: rain, limatik, many rabid wild pigs blocking the trail. we had lunch at the area where we were supposed to camp that day. there were hardly any flats. thank goodness we’re far ahead. at around 2pm, finally, there was a change of scenery, from lonely, wet, dipterocarp forests, we had better things to look at. trees became more erect, pine needles were strewn on the trail, and little flowers were in abundance all over. and the weather started to cooperate. beng was behind me for the last hour or so up the ranger station. she had this distraught look on her face, and i had to ask her several times if she was still up to it.

by 4pm, more than half of the team had already reached the ranger station, and i had already bought soda and pancit canton from a nearby store. looking around at our supplies, i already informed everyone we’d probably be having shortage issues with fuel and rice. and this was just our second night. another 2 days and a half to go. but some provisions can’t be sourced at that altitude. so we made do with what we had.

we drank a little more of the tequila that night, after eating beef broccoli. by this time, the vegetarians carlo and nestor (a recent and reluctant convert) were feasting over their moondish cans, since we were on an almost strictly-meat diet. once again, the 2k5ers occupied the room. almost all of us fit nicely inside. i lay again near the window, and bunched with me were ava, rizza, barbs, janet, carlo, and nestor, in that order. marlon and beng slept perpendicular to all of us. the serious conversations the previous night continued, and when we were finally tucked to sleep, for some reason, we broke the dead silence of the night with unstoppable laughter. no one talked, or cracked a joke, but laughter just left our zipped mouths. i think it started as a joke about barbs looking like a rellenong bangus, wrapped in aluminum foil. each time she made the slightest movement, her emergency blanket made a crinkling noise, and the cheap humor was just far too infectious. bossing had to go into our room to remind us that it was already very late. the postclimb just got pushed ahead of schedule. everything in this climb’s many steps forward.

i also had a hard time sleeping that night. although a board was propped up against the window, there was still a crevice sufficient for air to creep in, and every now and then, a cold draft would waft to my face, rousing me from slumber. covering my face with my bonnet helped a little. at around 5am, i felt someone holding on to my foot. it was beng, who was looking for a stove. breakfast was prepared rather quickly, and by 6am, with the sun up and the sky blue, most of us were awake and have had either a coffee or hot chocolate fix. we expected to leave the ranger station at 9am, so we were moving on very slowly. the boys bought another ten packs of pancit canton, and after preparing only 4 for lunch, the other 6, it turned out much later, went missing. i called it an AMCI mystery 06-001: the case of the missing pancit canton. everyone was a suspect, and although we had leads and ideas, we never really put our finger on who was guilty of either appropriating the pancit canton, or leaving it behind.

we had a few photo shoots outside the ranger station, and started walking with a bright sun present above us. the thin air was no help, but overall, it was a good day to start a hike, and i looked forward to better weather. i’ve been through the ambangeg route twice before, and i know it well, so i had nothing to worry about. the trek to the grassland campsite is short and extremely pleasant. i remember encountering a man who lugged a sewing machine all the way from lusod coming down this trail. but on my third time, it seemed lush, and little used. i was still trailing behind janet, who was more than happy to discover that no limatiks would bother her the rest of the way. she’d began the trek holding up her orange backpack cover, drying it in the sun. still many hours ahead of schedule, it seemed like a walk in the park – a national park, that is.

the first turn from the road, we immediately got to see the summit: large, looming, and green, with hardly any trees near the top. that was our last vision of the summit for that morning, since again, the blue sky was overpowered by gray, and fog accompanied us till we lunched at campsite 2. again, we were way ahead of the already adjusted IT. we marched on, no longer in a hurry this time, since the saddle just below the summit promised to be a short 3-hour trek. when you’ve clocked in more than 20 hours of walking time, 3 hours are short. in spite of the gray company, the hike was still a treat. my load, even after 2 days, didn’t feel lighter at all. i haven’t even put up my tent yet. marlon seemed to be faring a little better this time, having taken a bag with very little back support and almost no load-distribution features.

then we came to a point where we were about 200 meters from the summit (less than 20 meters below, in terms of altitude). from there, the saddle campsite was around 30 minutes away. it lay between the pulag summit and what bossing called “baby pulag”. from that vantage point, it looked like a very appealing place to spend the night, although there wasn’t water around. we’d been instructed to load at least 3 liters of water, though i doubt everyone took this to heart. tsk tsk. another point for the postclimb.

when we reached the saddle, it wasn’t even 3pm yet. we waited for the whole team to arrive, and for the fog to lift before even starting to pitch tents. it looked flat from far away, but on closer inspection, the campsite had lots of bumps -- mounds of earth and clumps of grass that would punish anyone without a thermarest. but such was not an issue for my group, since more than 50% of us had inflatable mattresses. talk about mountain luxury!

by 4pm, we’d all pitched, and were at a loss at what else was left to do: binging on food was out of the picture, since we’d carefully planned the meals (except for my blunder on the rice allocations). not much extra food to chomp. at the first hint of a clearing, we decided to climb the hill beside baby pulag. from there, it was possible to see the outlying towns of benguet, even the halsema highway. this part of pulag doesn’t slope down at all, and the drop is steep. there’s a gorge down below and the mountain range which separates us from halsema. looking behind me, i saw how magnificent it was to look at pulag’s summit: no longer the massive mound of earth which rose above the already high shoulders of the cordilleras, but a meek, barren hill, topped with a few chunks of rock, and dressed in a somber green. below it, our tents looked like colorful m&m’s dropped on a small area.

finally, just before 5pm, with barbs unable to get out of bed, feeling sick, i started dinner. everything was calculated: we had to scrimp on rice and fuel. there was an excess of meat, of course, since carlo and nestor settled for their canned laing, bicol express and ampalaya. after an early dinner, we were again accosted with a dilemma: what else do we do? still early, a drizzle forced us to retreat into our tents. 3 people fit nicely into my tent, but 3 thermarests don’t. nevertheless, ava and i sandwiched janet. i had just given some instructions to the inductees on what would take place early the following morning. although we were all just inside our tents, flat on our backs, we spent the slack time talking. i had to remind the then inductees that they were lucky since when we were in apo, we were still plodding through ankle- (sometimes knee-) high mud till after 9pm. whereas, at 8pm, everyone was comfortably calling on morpheus. also, i must’ve have made one too many jokes since janet was cracking up. we occasionally eavesdropped on the conversation between rizza and bert, and we were singing “getting to know you”. we slept laughing that night. we were delirious.

at past 3am, noise started stirring outside the tent. i’ve had difficulty sleeping. for some odd reason, i didn’t bring an extra pair of pants for sleeping and although i had thorlo stockings, 7 degrees can creep into your bones. we weren’t scheduled to assault the summit till 4.30am, but i went out anyway to see what was going on. stars were out that fine morning, and it was cold, though not quite as cold as the previous times i’ve spent there. the temperature was just right. so as instructed, i arranged the inductees in a line, and we started our trek to the summit. beng was behind me, and although i was generally conscious of their differing speeds, i guess my pace and the thin air were too much for beng. she wheezed and huffed and puffed each step she took. this brief moment would earn her the moniker “muning”. before long, nasty jokes started to swirl among us about her unusual noises up the summit. well, she’s the same person who claimed “14 years na akong married, magaling talaga akong magpatayo.”

the induction rites were over rather quickly. i’m not sure if it was colder in pulag, or in apo, but the new members survived the ordeal. we stayed at the summit for a while longer, awaiting pulag’s much ballyhooed sunrise. it was less dramatic as my 2 previous times, but we were nonetheless treated to the usual sea of clouds amassing below. it was a very pretty sight. i exposed 2 rolls just on summit photos. in the distance, we noticed other climbers who had either decided against proceeding to the summit, or were so winded, they’d decided to stay near the grassland. the views were really fantastic. marlon looked behind us and remarked that another group had camped below and wondered where they were. i very quickly told him that he was looking at our campsite.

then we went down back to the campsite. by this time, the chicken tocino breakfast had been wolfed down, so we had a lot less for lunch. those who ate their share had to sacrifice their midday meal. they couldn’t complain since i’d warned them previously of the consequences of eating the breakfast ahead of the intended breakfast time.

at 8am, we started loading. the first assignment was to scale baby pulag (it’s actually called junior pulag, but bossing’s name for it sounds funnier). it seemed less daunting than the task that we’d already accomplished, but everyone seemed to be winded and tired right after. i pulled myself up the minor summit with this weird feeling that i was going to get sucked into some gorge. my head felt heavy, and my breathing was heavier than my pack. 10 minutes into the uphill battle and i was so spent. finally, when i reached the top, all that negativity went away. the view was fantastic, and the feeling was incomparable. it was like reaching the summit for the first time. from there, it was already possible to see the edet river down below. i couldn’t imagine going down that steep slope and reaching the riverside by 5pm. it would be punishment to my already weakened knees, i thought.

as we began the “punishing” descent, a promise drew itself in the sky. half of a rainbow appeared, sort of hinting we’d be having no rain on our last night in pulag. but it turned out to be a half promise only, as a drizzle visited us again once we were past the enchanted mossy forest just below baby pulag (i started this lecture on montane environments, until i realized it was no longer possible to bluff my way through my second-hand knowledge). after the mossy forest, we descended to the pine forest, and the surrounding vistas were no less amazing. switchbacks criss-crossed all along the trail, and had there been more of us going down, it would have been a great photo opportunity.

we reached cow country before 11am, and had a long, leisurely, lengthy lunch. well, the others sort of just dried their gear since they’d eaten lunch earlier and only had trail food left. previously, there was some discussion on whether it was possible to push for the poblacion, but that was shot down since the jeepney was scheduled to pick us up only the following day. so down we went to edet river, zigzagging from this corner to that corner. the sound of the raging river was already audible hundreds of feet up, but still it seemed like a long way to go.

finally, 2 hours later, we were already down by the river, cooling ourselves, soaking our bodies, washing our clothes, and playing in the small, cold pools. i didn’t know the campsite was just 5 minutes away. it wasn’t even 3 yet, and everyone had already reached edet. it didn’t quite sink in that i’d just descended what others have called the killer trail. the barlig descent in amuyao was far more punishing than that. for barbs though, the observation came very quickly, and she said “yun na ba yung akiki?”

at the campsite, the only issue was how do we get rid of the cow manure? everyone else avoided them like the plague. i threw them away using my bare hands to clear space for my tent. the ground alongside edet though is pretty hard. several pegs ended up bent and crooked. not my TNF v-stakes though, courtesy of dindo and lyn, hehe. so by 3.30pm, i’d already pitched, hung my clothes out to dry, set up a kitchen, and clipped my fingernails. what else was there to do? carlo was getting really impatient by this time and kept saying, “boring” like clockwork. “boring”, and i had to tell him to find something to do, like fetch water.

since a lot skipped lunch, and we had slack time longer than patience can endure, i instructed barbs to prepare her tuna alfredo early. she was frantically looking for milk, although i swore we didn’t have any milk in the load. she said it’s no biggie, and then she went about having the garlic chopped, the packs of cream opened, etc. and by 5pm, we already had this big batch of steaming pasta hot and ready to eat. i suggested we eat it later. we looked around and the suggestion was very quickly shot down. i apportioned our shares (gosh, this is the first time we had to measure our food), making sure we each had an equitable portion of the pasta, and man, what a pasta. it was pretty good, the missing pack of milk notwithstanding. so before 6, we had already finished eating and washed the cooksets. and there was nothing else to do! a slight drizzle again forced us into our tents, but when it stopped, i took out the last few mls of tequila i saved for the last night and secretly called out to my drinking buddies. we munched on whatever trail food was available: apricots, peanuts, chocolate. then ed, who’s always looking for champorado, suggested that we have champorado.

we only had over half a kilo of rice left (donated by the climb staff), and very little fuel. i had swiss miss. so on the condition that no one complain the following day, we improvised champorado. and it was good champorado, actually. or maybe we were just famished. we paired it with tuyo. yum. that last evening along edet lasted forever, and we preoccupied ourselves with songs. i reckon we didn’t disturb anyone, save for spirits and unseen forces around. but that was a really fun night.

by 9pm, we had ran out of tequila, turned over the champorado, had no songs to sing, and still little to do. we’d cracked jokes earlier about changing tentmates, but no one seemed to take it seriously until i finally ordered nestor to move out of carlo’s tent. so while janet lit prayer candles (the candles we bought in baclaran) at a corner in the campsite, i very nonchalantly transferred all her stuff from my tent to carlo’s. he didn’t seeme to mind, and i’m pretty sure janet just pretended to not know. i zipped my tent closed and prepared to sleep. then janet attempted to get in, and i basically told her what are you going to do here, you’re not allowed in my tent. in the big brother vocabulary, she’d be the first evictee. she feigned surprise, i think, and i told her that she’d be having accommodations in carlo’s tent. “ano?” she exclaimed. “bakit?” she had this litany of things to say, and carlo was just inside the tent, fidgeting with his cellphone.

now there’s a psychology lesson to be learned here, really, considering the commotion which took place in makati republik 2 days after my birthday. the first stage is denial, and it manifests itself, sometimes, in the form of disdain. so all that pent-up sexual tension has to be relieved, eventually. and these 2 have been surprisingly close to each other since day 1, considering they’ve consciously avoided each other since september. but then, carlo once told me: “past is past.” and yes, the future is another thing. was it beng who told me she woke up to find the two in an embrace at the ranger station? it’s really not for me to say since i didn’t see it for myself. what i was witness to was something else. now to continue.

anyway, janet had no choice but to sleep in carlo’s tent since i told her she’s banned from mine. i fell asleep soundly that night. the weather was great, it was peaceful, and no cold drafts crept into the tent. the following morning, i woke up, went inside ed’s tent, and spoke about halcon and many other things. we’d unzipped his tent, and the pantry was visible from where the 3 of us sat. janet was also already up and busy tending to breakfast. when beng got up she observed that janet appeared to be unusually perky. i’m a woman, she said, and i know when another woman is satisfied. yet again another memorable quote from muning. so who should i be thanking for janet’s energy? hmmm…

at 7am, we made 1 final trip to edet river where i exposed my last shot. the school wasn’t far away, we were told, and we hoped to be there by 11am. while we packed, we heard a loud rumble from somewhere -- either an explosion or a massive landslide. but we didn’t worry too much. the guides pointed out the location of babadak. we’d made a large U to get to where we were then. so our final trek began after 8.30am, and i was humming some songs for janet. “sana maulit muli” and “kung maibabalik ko lang” were some of them. getting to the pick up point from edet river needs one small push up the hill. the outlying views are no less wonderful here, and there is an overabundance of beauty all around. too bad i’d ran out of film. we marched on confidently, and some coffins underneath a big rock was pointed out to us. we also paused awhile at the large bench. when we reached the school, we came upon bad news: our jeep was going to be late. the problem was compounded by the fact that we were too early. so we thought about what we were to do with the generous time that we had. some of us decided to go to the store. it was some distance away, probably a kilometer, and we had to manage a steep flight of stairs from the PAMB’s visitor area.

at the store, we ordered chips, the last 2 remaining bottles of lukewarm soda, and some cans of sardines. the lady gave us the rice for free. when we returned to the visitors area, we had to run back up the steep flight of stairs. it was short, and we had no bags, but it took away the little wind that was left of me. we were so very bored for all the extra time we had that we tried to find things to do. one of them was to go through the visitor logbooks. looked up familiar names, read comments, laughed at people’s remarks that it was “a killer”, and similar things. we were quickly running out of things to do. the afternoon was creeping in slowly, and we amused ourselves with the invisible mountaineer, beng giving bojo love and cultural advice, janet and carlo, among many other things. we waited anxiously for any hint of a jeepney arriving. we were trying to create scenarios to show the driver that we were less than unhappy by his tardiness. and when he arrived just before 2pm, he was profuse with apologies, and we would have none of it, interested only in reaching baguio the soonest.

i toploaded from the pick-up point till past ambuklao dam when a drizzle started to set in. when we reached baguio, we headed for cottage C inside the supreme court compound, courtesy of umberto carpio-morales. i had no idea that SC justices had such nice cribs in the summer capital, and i was more than happy bert found a way for us to wash up in style. there were at least 5 bathrooms available, and although water pressure was low, we all finished in under an hour. we walked to SM to have dinner -- and in the last 2 years and my several visits to baguio, it would be only my first time to visit the much talked-about mall. 6 of us decided to have dinner at a chinese resto to accommodate the vegetarian needs of carlo and nestor.

after that, we marched back to cottage C and had our postclimb. everyone seemed positive. there were no injuries, not an instance of delay insofar as hiking was concerned, and it turned out to be a great climb, the rain notwithstanding. of course we were given formulas to avoid food and fuel shortages. most of the team was scheduled to depart baguio at 11.15pm, but 5 of us decided to extended for 2 more hours for a few bottles of beer. it was actually janet’s suggestion, and although we had no idea where we’d get our fill, we figured we won’t go wrong in session road. we went to this bar with folk singers and expensive beer. the singing was not better than average, and the food was boring, but at least the beer was cold. i had 2 bottles of strong ice, and when we went boarded our bus, i was knocked out before it even left the bus station. next thing i knew was i was trying to figure out where i was. we’d actually reached the end of the NLEX when i woke up, some 4 hours later. what a quick ride. at quezon avenue, i boarded a cab, and went home. my mom was already up when i arrived.

i’d been away nearly 6 days total, and that much time had given me an opportunity to ponder the future. although, to be honest, i failed to draw any answers or conclusions. i know i said this might as well be my last multi-day climb for the year, but that certainly sounds regretful. having endured and suffered and enjoyed a climb of this scale and magnitude, i ought better to know the few things in life that are truly essential. i shall never ignore the call of the mountain. so definitely not the last, not this year. the dogtag has got to stand for something.

Tags: 2k5, amci, mount pulag, mountaineering

over the weekend, i got to do many things that once only belonged to the realm of the imagination.

friday was the christmas party of AMCI. the theme was hawaiian luau, and janet and i had the most unfortunate burden of putting everything together. many of the batchmates offered little cooperation in the way of contributing for the expenses of the party, and much less was given in the way of helping out with everything else. so between janet and myself, you can imagine how stressful the hours before the party were. i swore i’d clobber anyone with anything disparaging to say about the party because i’d worked my ass off on this and janet has slaved many hours as well.

in spite of that, the stress slowly ebbed away, and i was jolly enough when they gave me a “mr bibbo award” for my outstanding “entertainment value.” we also had a dance number to the pussycat dolls’ “don’t cha”. rizza choreographed the thing and it was prologued by some hawaiian dance. all in all, the party at cutebalddiver’s mom’s greenhills residence was ok. we were quite literally flooded by beer (the floor got so wet as the night wore on), and lots of people appeared to be drunk.

the following day, i still had to leave for a batch climb to gulugod baboy. ava backed out all of a sudden and i entertained the prospect of sleeping alone in my tent. the trip to anilao, though, was foreboding: the rain poured, and it promised to be a wet climb. sure enough, the trail, though nothing nearly as challenging as our training climbs, was rather slippery. being the trail master and all, i reached the summit first and in a little over an hour. my load though was much heavier than what i took with me to apo. the summit was surrounded by a thick gray blanket. it seemed as if an oversupply of clouds moved over the campsite at amazing speed. the wind was furious, and the air was damp. nonetheless, my tent stood there like a sentinel.

after sunset, it began to rain and people quickly lost interest in cooking. since i still had generous space in the vestibule, i prepared our food, and just as i finished, the rain stopped. but the wind didn’t. so we had dinner even as this unseen force kept pushing us. it wasn’t cold, but the wind was just terrible. we had lots of gin, which sank easily because of the weather. we had two thai guests with us and i entertained them without much prodding. i also stood as kuya mar’s interpreter. pretty soon, i had no idea what was going on. last thing i remember was that happy was speaking to me in pure spanish. only the following day did i find out that i passed out. i fell on the cake, and marlon had to assist-to-walk me back to my tent. i pulled both of us down to the ground and he injured his pinky. i slept with my headlamp still on and around my head. that morning, i got to see the carnage of the wind. gilbert’s tentpoles broke. and the only pole that held the tent that nestor and marlon shared also broke. they couldn’t sleep after that. angel also discovered what a tent’s bathtub floor is for. it was flooded inside! i failed to experience any of these since my talus was mighty and strong against those 100kph winds, even without guylines. this tent really is on steroids!

after that we proceeded to the dagondon rest house in anilao. and there the raspa guys were waiting for us. they’d decided not to climb anymore given the inclement weather. i think vince had something to say about their decision (”dyan mo malalaman kung sino ang tunay na mountaineer”). anyway, after breakfast, we engaged in a few water sports. niel’s dad loaned him one of his jetskis, and i finally got to try it, although didn’t fully appreciate it since we had to drag a banana boat and we had a learner’s key which only allowed the jetski to travel at 50kph max. i also kayaked with gilbert then later dennis. i like it! i passed up on this chance when i was in dos palmas. glad i got to try it this time. i also attempted wakeboarding but that wasn’t a success at all! and i didn’t even dare try windsurfing. who knows where that’ll take me.

we chilled for awhile and left anilao late in the afternoon. we had a small tour before we found ourselves back on the shorter route to home.

all in all, it was a fun weekend which allowed me to do a lot of things.

Tags: 2k5, amci, anilao, mount gulugod baboy

i went to janet’s birthday bash at ñ in rockwell last saturday despite being a little under the weather. i thought i looked horrible, and i even had to walk all the way from powerplant because i thought the restaurant would be there. i felt really bad since the morning that i woke up after i got home from the scorpio night party. as usual, i had too much to drink, and i had this cleaving headache and was having a bout of chills. i upped the drama and called out to my mom asking for TLC. anyway, i still got up from bed so i could go to rockwell, and if i weren’t so sick, i probably would’ve partied some more. in spite of my condition that night, i look really nice in the pics! hehe. i half expected to look like someone under medication. i’ve had this saturday sickness since my return from mindanao.

the scorpio night wasn’t as wild as i expected. a few batchmates came and most of the AMCI people opted to stay outside pedro’s warehouse where the air was more tolerable. but some of us did get drunk, nevertheless. i guess we needed people to fire up the dance floor, and the efforts of bitoy and myself were simply not enough. oh well, more parties are scheduled, so there are more opportunities to get drunk and crazy.

Tags: 2k5, party

long before the break of day, and while our friends and companions in far away manila dragged their cumbersome bags to the airport, the few who gathered a day ahead in davao gingerly went about preparing for what lay ahead: assemble at the parking lot of the davao international airport, and make it to the jump off in barangay sibulan in sta cruz by 10am. as i pondered what else to bring with me, my phone rang. it was don, and my first reaction was: is he calling me from the plane’s lavatory? his first words to me were: “shit alman hindi ako nagising”. initially i thought he was just kidding. hearing that bit of news was similar to getting jolted by some vile liquid, like when one first encounters vodka, and it goes straight to the brain. he resolved to follow the group the following day, and i readied myself for the day. just before 6, i and a few others boarded niel’s lola’s expedition, and were deposited at the airport less than 15 minutes later. several jeepneys, the SAVERS, and a few AMCI people were already there. it was a sunny day, and the heat in davao was knocking on unbearable’s door. in the horizon, two summits loomed like unmoving behemoths. on the right is mount talomo, and to the left was our intended destination: mount apo. its summit was like a weak magnet, attracting a cabal of clouds that crept slowly towards it from all directions.

it seemed like a good day to start a climb. that is, until the first portent of the day happened. i was speaking to some of the sweepers about something i could not remember when from the corner of my eye, i saw a white vehicle lurching forward. before i could finish saying “oh my God!”, it had moved from its spot on the parking lot towards the other side where another vehicle was parked, and where a few people had gathered. its movement was not unlike someone alternately stepping on the gas and the brakes, and its wheels screeched on the pavement. the first thing that i remembered were vince and ava, whom i remembered were standing on the spot where the toyota revo’s hood were on now. in an instant, several men were trying to push the vehicle away, and i imagined someone might have just been pinned between its fender and the other vehicle. or worse, was under it, writhing in pain. by some miracle and quick thinking, ito -- one of our own -- made his way to the driver’s seat of the vehicle which was then vacated, and drove it back to its spot. at this point, i turned my back on it, not wanting to see the carnage it may have left in its stead. all this in a matter of less than 10 seconds.

when the air cleared, it became obvious that no one from AMCI was hurt. one man -- the driver of the vehicle on the other side -- sat on the open back of his van, his face grimacing in pain. he refused to jump out of the possessed car’s path and stood between it and his own. on his shins were some superficial scrapes. the injury may have been within. all of a sudden, my first aid training and knowledge left me, and i was reduced to a nosy bystander. the drama continued till after touchdown of the first flight. even when our fellow climbers made it out, the commotion of the freaky revo hadn’t died down. the old lady on the passenger seat appeared to be stubborn and refused to recognize neither involvement nor negligence in the incident.

but alas, we had to focus on our own concerns. so after the PAL folks made their way out of the terminal (i worried that a slight delay in the flight would’ve caused a tremendous delay in the climb), we left davao for sibulan. decked in our snazzy gray with orange and black accents trek shirts, the ano baah! group filtered into its designated jeep with a high level of enthusiasm but with a dash of trepidation. and understandably so. the first day’s IT predicted 12 hours of walking, 4 of which in cover of darkness.

the trek started on what appeared to be an abandoned dirt road in the middle of a wide expanse consisting of random coconut trees and other spontaneous growths of shrubs and grass. the heat was tremendous, and the weight of my pack was weighing me down, causing quite a lot of discomfort. i’d loaded 2.5liters of jose cuervo over my already impossibly heavy load. my bag towered over my head like a curse and early on, i knew it’d be a 10 hour chore.

things seemed alright in the beginning till after we passed the school and started descending to the baracatan river. it glistened in the distance, far below us, and we each inched painfully forward under the unrelenting sun. we were moving with such amazing sloth that it was not nearly possible we’d meet the itinerary for that day. not that we were weak, or slow, or slothy, really. it was due to the size of the contingent. at more than a hundred, the delay sort of piles up after each person maneuvers, with utmost care, over each obstacle. as the sound of the river neared, i looked forward to lunch. niel’s lola had prepared adobo for us, and i so wanted to rest my sore shoulders. but instead of a good meal, i encountered my first fall for the day. as i stepped on a moss-covered rock, i slipped, and dropped my weight and the burden of my entire backpack on my left knee which hit the rock with so much force i thought i shattered my kneecap. in front of me, i saw eubert’s face grimace in some kind of vicarious pain. i stood up and pretended it was nothing, as i checked if the bone was still in one piece. it appeared to be still whole, but i couldn’t ignore a burning sensation. i unzipped my TNF convertibles and discovered that i had a circular abrasion wound the size of a 5 peso coin. i daubed it with betadine, covered it with a strip, and ate lunch, which i did quickly.

up ahead was a series of river crossings, including an ascent on a vertical wall beside the old abandoned dam which had my group waiting more than 20 minutes. the current above the dam was really strong, and a rope had to be secured, else we’d be swept away. at the last river crossing, alexis, who was in front of me, slipped, and submerged his head into the water. rendo and i had to help him up, and when he finally got his face out of the water, he refused to stand up. instead he just sat there, with only his chest above the river.

from there, it was a long trek to the ladders, where another long queue ensued. at this juncture, the ano baah! group had been divided to three: the lead pack, which consisted of kuya mar, tito boy, gilbert, ava, melay and vince. lyn and i were the midpack, while malvin, alexis, and our guide formed the rear. during the delays, i would perform my usual movie spiels to somewhat raise the spirits of the people around me, and generally to ward off boredom. sometimes, it was for my own good. night was falling quickly and we had fallen behind the itinerary by at least 3 hours. the descent from the maisan to the river through the ladders was slow, tedious, and dangerous, which most of us did with the aid of our headlamps. from the sibulan-baroring river junction, we still had to ascend a vertical distance of 350 meters to sitio tudaya, which turned out to be our campsite for the day. it was not nearly possible to reach colan before 10pm, at least for the entire team. it was during this ascent that i suffered a series of muscle cramps too many to count. i’d be trekking behind lyn for a few minutes only to shout “stop. stop.” at this point, malvin had caught up with us. he had endorsed alexis to the sweepers. we trekked together the rest of the way and it may have been the longest 30 minutes ever since we paused at least 5 times, at least 5 minutes each time, as i smothered salonpas on the muscles above my knees, popped salt into my mouth, and prayed to God to get me through the night.

finally, just after 9pm, we reached the tudaya elementary school and on its grounds were pitched many tents. colan had been ruled out, although it was still at least 3 hours away. i made my way to the school grounds, pitched my tent and prepared the evening’s dinner: an unsuccessful korean beef stew. it rained steadily that night, and people seemed to be the least interested in eating a lot, or having a round of socials. instead, sleep was foremost in the agenda, and i found myself retiring just after cooking rice for the following morning. i hoped to be awakened by alexis’ arrival in an hour or two. wake-up call was at 3am, and when my phone alarmed, i did not find alexis beside me. so i thought maybe the sweeper group had camped somewhere else. when i went out of my tent and walked to our kitchen area, i found alexis there, wet and dirty, prostrate on our kitchen tarp. “what are you doing there?” i barked. he said he just wanted to sleep. he had just arrived about 5 minutes before and had nothing on his mind but sleep. i ordered him to sleep inside our tent. i spread the all-weather space blanket inside and tried not to think about just how muddy he was. ordinarily, i wouldn’t even let him near my tent in that condition, but every inch -- or should i say every pound -- of the poor guy spelled wasted.

we were supposed to prepare the bangus for breakfast but for some reason, it could not be found, and we settled instead for the evening’s leftovers. we were one of the last groups before the sweepers to leave tudaya, and the other groups had already gone far ahead. when we reached baroring, apo once again appeared in the cloudless horizon. it still seemed distant, unreachable. and to think our IT predicted we’d on its summit by 4pm. i pressed on with the determination of an ant.

in sitio colan, we had caught up with many of the groups that left earlier. they were refilling their water bottles. we had coke instead. this should have been our first campsite. instead, we pass through it at 10am on our second day. there must have been something seriously wrong with the IT, or if not, with us. i ruled out the summit as day 2’s campsite, since we’ve all heard about the 5 hour trek through the sulfur vents and past the boulders. from colan, i accompanied malvin, vince and lyn until we reached a huge chunk of nearly vertical rock which reeked of strange fumes. rust-colored waters flowed gently down its face, and in stark contrast to everything else, the water was warm to the touch. having been thrown off schedule since day 1, i had no idea where we were, except what bert said: that we were in a “sacred” place. it turned out to be the hot springs. we rested there a while and dipped our feet into the small warm pool. another short trek through a marshy area of the forest which soaked our legs to the knees, and it started to rain. up ahead, other groups had gathered, and as we were arriving, mike announced what was very obvious: “hey guys, it’s raining!”

there was a huge, nearly rectangular pool there which was chest-deep in parts. it had the same rusty color of the hot springs, and was also warm. we had lunch in the area under a small tarp and amid the rain. it was beginning to get really chilling as the rain was unrelenting. i took a short dip into the pool of the mundo apo hot springs before proceeding to our next destination. it was lunch time and we wondered whether the team would still push for the summit. around two hours later, we reached a huge, flat expanse, which must’ve been the SAVERS campsite, although none of the guides seemed to be aware of its name. it would’ve been a good campsite, except that there seemed to be no water source. we trudged on and 30 minutes into our slippery, muddy ascent, we encountered pres arnel and gilbert. i recall them being behind me in colan, but here they were, making their way down from tinikaran 1. they had apparently taken a shorter route. pres briefed us on the current situation. it was already after 2pm, and it would be folly to be found trekking through the boulders at night. there were two small crampsites up ahead, which will not accommodate the whole team. there was a small chance we’d find tent space there, and had to risk doing a bivouac somewhere. i wanted to sleep and recalled the much bigger campsite we had just passed. but ava was being such a stubborn brat, saying “i’d rather risk it. i don’t want to go back.” go ahead i wanted to tell her, because when malvin opened the option of having one of us return to wait for kuya mar, tito boy, and alexis, i was first to volunteer. there’s nothing i hate more than a small and less-than-ideal campsite. i have a really huge tent.

before we could finally decide as a team, ava sped away. malvin went to fetch her, while i made my way down with pres. we made it back to the SAVERS campsite in less than 5 minutes. the rest of the members of the group took around 20 minutes, by which time my tent already stood beside a big rock. after almost an hour, malvin and a really morose-looking ava arrived. we were joking with her but malvin was slashing his neck with his hand, motioning that we cut it. they just had some dramatic highlights along the trail, which we laughed off as the afternoon wore on. a while later, kuya mar and tito boy arrived, and one by one alexis, and the rest of the sweepers. before 5pm, we had all pitched, changed, and started preparing dinner. our SAVERS guide was nowhere to be seen, and we had trouble completing our meals, so i just reheated a portion of the adobo, when all of a sudden, alexis declares that the bangus was in his bag all along. i wanted to wring his fat neck! half of the bangus was already spoiled, but this did not deter us from having a sumptuous dinner. my mom’s adobo was as usual excellent, and we opened the next liter of tequila. i think one of the guides had more of it than we did, because we planned to be sleeping by 8pm.

so after two shots of tequila, i was peacefully sleeping, with a clean alexis beside me. i slept soundly despite the rain, and woke up only when a cold draft of air came in through alexis’ door. he went out to for a minor and omitted to close the fly, so i zipped it shut and went back to sleep. at 1am, my alarm went off, it felt like a strange hour to get up and get ready. as we busied ourself with a quick breakfast, alexis was already getting ready to start trekking. i handed my mini maglite to his personal guide as i fried the fish with oil from the sweepers. much of our stuff was with argel, the guide. he had complained early on that his pack was heavy, but he would’ve shut up if he tried my bag on for size. alexis finally left at 1.30am with packed breakfast and no lunch. we munched on our meals quickly and got ready to start trekking by 3pm. i finally left the campsite at around 3.30pm.

the previous day, the first 20 minutes into the forest was difficult, even while there was sun. imagine how much harder it must’ve been with only the aid of our failing lights. you make five steps up, and slide down a step and a half. this we had to endure for over 2 hours till any hint of sun appeared. at around 6am, we came upon the first holding camp. four groups had cramped there, some tents resting on awful slopes. seeing how they’d crammed themselves into every available inch, we realized the wisdom behind going back down. we at least had good campsites and a good night’s sleep. when we passed, many of the groups were only just beginning to cook breakfast, since they weren’t informed of the 6am start of trek.

lyn and i continued trekking (dindo endorsed her to me, saying “alman, take care of my wife muna”) and we passed the second holding camp. the other groups there had already broken camp and were ready to start trekking in a few minutes. not far away from them, the boulders began. at first, it appeared to be just a series of moss-covered white rocks sandwiched between and under the clasped branches of the forest. then, a putrid, foul smell not unlike rotten egg dominated the trail. up ahead, the hues changed wildly into either sickly green or pale yellow. it is the color of spoiled food. there was a huge cleft on the mountain, which was surrounded by crushed rocks. it looked as if an immense hand had fallen on it with a powerful karate chop. fumes were emanating from its side. we had reached the sulfur vents of mount apo.

from there, we could see an endless ascent populated by chunks of rock. one can imagine the difficulty of trekking through all this when clouds are not in attendance. in the distance, what seemed to be two trees sat like small shrubs. it was the ridge to the summit, and i imagined it must’ve been our destination. at this point, lyn and i overtook alexis. loree started calling me nanny alman, because for the second time, i had to wash alexis’ face. he appeared to be a grimy little fat kid.

people have been saying that by the time we got tired of looking at rocks, we’d be done with the boulders. but to be very honest, this was my favorite part of the trek. the view was magnificent and i didn’t tire at all of rocks. despite my load, i dug deep into my agility and hopped from one rock to the next, refusing to take the easier trail and assaulted my destination head on. midway through the trek, as a thick white cloud hovered over us obliterating the ridge, i had a major call of nature. so with lyn ahead and tito boy behind, i sat between two huge boulders and finished my business. someone asked how the boulders looked like it was: alien, almost otherworldly. i explained it with the confidence, but not with the knowledge, of a geologist.

finally, i reached the ridge. arnel was there smoking a stick. he had opened the huge tarpaulin banner, and it may have been a bit deceptive, since the summit campsite was still a good hour’s trek away. over the ridge was a very still, unmoving lake venado, and a thick, mossy forest, a rather stark contrast to the barren lands that is the boulders. from miles away, the boulders is discernible, making apo appear like a snow-capped mountain. when lyn and i arrived at the summit campsite, there were very few people there. on the way, we saw the crater lake, vandalized by rocks arranged to form letters and spell out names. our groupmates had already started sneaking in sleep, but we had to deal with hunger, so we cooked lunch instead.

the induction rites were scheduled at lunch time, but at 2pm, the officers who were supposed to preside over the rites were still making their way up the boulders. finally, at around past 3, we were rounded up, each with a liter of water. malvin ordered alexis and i to carry an extra liter each. we proceeded to one of the summits and had our memorable, chilling and dramatic induction proper. of all the vivid experiences we underwent in the climb, it is the only one which will be left mired in mystery, undescribed, untold.

we descended from one of the seven summits of mount apo each adorned by a dogtag inscribed with our names in red, AMCI, our serial number, and our blood types. i guess the realization that you’re now a member doesn’t immediately sink in, since you have very little time to ponder the change. instead, you’re rushed to prepare for a “short” descent to lake venado. the last lights of our third day were being eaten by an overpowering darkness, and it looked as if the lake wasn’t far away. we figured an hour or two would be enough before we could finally pitch our tents.

the descent, it turned out, was long. the sun had surrendered on us, and many of us nearly surrendered on the trail. what started with a lot of singing and a lot of jokes turned awry for many. the trail became very dangerous at parts, and extremely muddy in most. although i started only with lyn, i ended up with a handful of girls whom i had to assist along the way. they were calling me mountain goat because of the way i maneuvered through the trail, refusing to sit and slide on the trail. although it seemed to be a breeze for me, it was doubly difficult for my wards. at one point, wency slipped and she screamed “alman! bangin! bangin!” when i turned around, i just saw her feet, wriggling, and the rest of her body was on the downward slope. i rushed to her and had to muster some unknown strength to pull her back up. jenny had nearly given up, crying and complaining about being very tired. she was sick. i had to empty my pockets of all the encouragement i could think of, and i was running dry of optimism. but i had to hold it out for another hour more, even as our feet sunk deep into the mud past the ankle. as our feet squished and sloshed through the beaten trail, i confused stars with headlamps, and kept saying “we’re almost there jen, just a few more minutes.” i must’ve been hallucinating because i’d assure my girls that, “i can hear voices. it must be the campsite.” i would’ve stuck batteries into my enthusiasm but i had barely none left for my headlamp.

more than 3 hours after we started our descent, we reached lake venado. it was teeming with faint lights, whispered voices, and the shapes of people and tents. i searched for my group and we set up camp. i washed away the filth of the descent to the lake. i can imagine this must be a triumphant moment for me and for many: to have scaled the slopes of mount apo and to have actually stood on the roof of mindanao and entire archipelago is a feat which comes far and few between, even for the most seasoned of mountaineers. but with the rage of emotions running through your mind, the fatigue, and the need to get down back to the plains leaves little space for reflection and contemplation. since training with AMCI started, i have had little time to just stare blankly at the horizon and empty my mind of my mundane concerns. instead, i have filled it with greater burdens: taking care of other people, worrying about others who have been left behind, and wondering whether my body can continue to withstand all the abuse.

nevertheless, dinner was a huge feast. argel had unloaded everything, and we cooked the binagoongan and served the laing. i had a swig of tequila before i finally dozed off. i knew it would still be a long day 4 up ahead.

at around 4am, a steady buzz hung over the campsite, and it was ascending in volume. many of the groups planned to start trekking by 5.30am. malvin had other plans, of course. having been the first team up the previous day, we wanted to catch up on sleep and start trekking by 7 or 8am. but janet would not let up. she kept barking out my name in a sweet melody: “alman, sweetie, wake up.” i’d open my eyes each time she said this, and she would not stop until i actually showed up. i wanted to go out of my tent and shake her shoulders violently. but i just showed up with a sleepy smile until they finally started trekking. i went back inside and slept a little more. breakfast can wait.

many of the groups had already left and some have packed when we started breaking camp. it was not nearly possible to appreciate lake venado in all that rush, although it was robbed of any of the foretold charm and mysticism which wraps it like the mossy forest and the wispy clouds. there are actually stores around lake venado. i counted two, each selling anything from tinned meals to tanduay to soda in cans. we were also not alone. several other groups were in the area. some of them even watched us with much interest, talking about our gear, and the flashy, expensive brands that displayed themselves when the sun appeared.

finally, at 8am, we left lake venado with a prayer. a huge trash bag had been left behind and one of the SAVERS insisted it was one of ours. i inspected it and its contents were decidedly so not AMCI. the trek through the nice forest was nice, although it was very long. we were accompanied by the songs of birds overhead, and i even saw an endemic apo myna along the way. we eventually caught up with malvin and alexis (the only thing i heard from him was “wasted na ako”, which he’d been saying since day 1) at the century-old almaciga tree campsite. this should have been our campsite for day 4, but i could hardly find an area where more than two tents could fit.

we paused there a while and i had a predictable hug-the-huge-tree pose around the almaciga. lyn and i continued walking to the water source where we stopped again for a brief brake. we were hoping to see signs of plains soon, since we were both hungry and tired and dirty. when we reached a plantation of corn, i took it as a good sign, since it meant the presence of a community. we could make out a house or two far away, but we had to manage a difficult descent where a rope had to be fastened. it was only after 3pm, but it was already getting dark. at the first house in lower garuk, a horseman was waiting. he’d been told that a fat, bald guy would be needing his assistance. we guessed he must’ve been tipped about alexis. he offered his services to us saying other horses were available in the area, and lyn didn’t think twice about relieving her back of her bag. i took out my tent and placed it in a sack. gilbert also unloaded a small portion of his load. i could still manage to walk with a pack, but the lighter load would do wonders for my pace.

nearby, we found roland and janice, breaking for a snack. the latter had been enduring her injury since the start of the climb. i suggested she take advantage of the horse to have her pack loaded so we’d reach marawer faster. i wasn’t very interested in looking at the IT anymore because at 5pm, we should already have been in santa cruz, and not in some sitio which doesn’t even show in the map.

colan was only about half an hour away, and there, we found some of the SAVERS, bajay and loree s. after a while, pres carla arrived on a horse. she covered her face with one hand. the people spoke about her toes which looked like pale, small vigan longanizas. the more i tried to imagine it, the more i felt her agony. we discussed the alexis situation with bajay and we told him it was not likely they’d make it out of the forest by sunset. so we left two headlamps for them as we made our way down to marawer. when our guide said it would still be 2 hours away, we didn’t believe him. we hoped it’d be shorter, but it must’ve been at least 3 hours. it was very dark, very muddy, and lonely. there were 6 of us, but only 4 had lights, so you can imagine the ordeal. lyn gave me her spare batteries. when we found a store, we decided to address our hunger first. we cooked noodles, had lots of bread, and softdrink. a multicab offered to take us to the barangay proper where the jeep that would take us to sta. cruz was supposedly waiting for us. this was providential, it turns out since the jeepney had just left. we found them in kapatagan, digos, having a flat tire fixed.

we entered the jeepney and inside, everyone seemed sapped of energy, looking like destitute survivors of a calamity. we were all very dirty and smelly. from there, we were delivered to the training center in sta. cruz. upon our arrival, very few people were present. most of them were at the resort, having dinner. we were taken there shortly. i may have said that i was unimaginably tired, but a karaoke was in attendance at the beach so i had it turned on and i sang 3 songs. we returned to the training center after the midnight snack and focused on cleaning our things. nearly every conceivable sleeping space had been occupied and i was left with no room but the drinking area. so instead of sleeping, i decided to drink. i had just carried a liter of tequila on my new sigg bottle up mount apo, and i took it down untouched. so we opened it and we drank while i cooked anything that was available. first i did my pesto pasta with mushrooms. people loved it and asked for more. so although i only had a vague idea how to make it, i cooked a pasta alia et oglio dish with tuna and anchovies. while i drained the pasta, all the noodles fell from my pot and onto the ground. i hadn’t slept in the last 22 hours, so i suppose it was inevitable. i kept saying sorry as may helped me pick up the pasta and returned it to the pot. i rinsed the noodles and prepared the dish nevertheless. people still ate it.

around 4am, the last of the sweepers arrived. alexis and malvin were with them. i gave malvin a pat on the back and alexis a little applause. he could barely get off the vehicle. and when he did, he just wanted to sleep. i said he had to clean up first. i assisted him with his boots, his shirt, and his gloves. nanny alman, remember? while the valiant sweepers ate, JC and i provided them entertainment. they’d just been through a lot, and a few of them were also in a really bad state. sir manny commented that the entire complement of the sweepers focused on carla, while the main team had no one to bring up the rear save for malvin and pres arnel. others were saying the sweepers swept themselves.

by 6am, the other groups started loading to leave for davao city. ours was still lounging around, not in a hurry to leave. with my tent dry, i was finally able to start packing, and prepare for more activities the rest of the week. a normal person would probably just drop on a nice, comfortable bed and sleep all day. but sleep was last in my agenda. instead, i looked forward to spending a few more days in mindanao. some side trips had been planned, and i was eager to experience all of them.

as i prepared to leave the training center in santa cruz, i tried to contemplate the dog tag that now hangs from my neck. it is the fruit of the past 4 months’ labors and sacrifices, and i guess it felt good to be wearing one, and to know that it was well-deserved. but at that precise moment though, it just meant i could forget about 4-day climbs and just focus on easy overnighters.

but then again, maybe not.

Tags: 2k5, adventure, amci, mount apo, mountaineering

as expected, i woke up 5 minutes ahead of my alarm. before long, ava and i were headed for the fort, and we got there just after 5am, early enough to get a good spot in the parking lot. soon after, i saw niel and JC. at 5.45am, runners converged at the starting point. lots of AMCI folk. mosscake, who i haven’t seen since our final exam, also came for the adidas 10km king of the road. and at 6am, we were off. it looked like there were a lot of runners, but i read in the papers that they kept the number of participants at 2,100. i think milo has more than 3 times that.

i started out well, pacing myself till past makati avenue when i started to feel a sharp jab of pain in the abdomen. ugh. side stitch again. i hadn’t managed to move the food i had eaten the previous night, and i felt really heavy. the buffet, it turns out, may not have been that good an idea. by the time we reached malugay, i was slowing down since the pain, though not as excruciating as before, was like a ball of lead on my legs, slowing me down tremendously. at the turn, i had to let carlo and JC go ahead of me. i really wanted to walk the rest of the way. then gerry came along and he ran with me, in spite of my slow pace. and i told him , as we were near paseo de roxas on our way back, that i had to rest. so rest i did till we reached the foot of the flyover. ver caught up with us, and we ran the rest of the way till the finish line.

since there were fewer people this time, it was possible for me to observe the other runners better. there were many sources of inspiration there. i remember that i had barely crossed the 3km mark when the first place finisher was already on his way back. not more than 10 people behind him, there was this runner whose right arm had been amputated above the elbow. i also ran alongside a short, stubby old man who had no shoes on. and there was of course pia pilapil’s husband: a tall, good looking man with long hair, and who happens to be not sighted. he wore a pair of sunglasses, and held on to a kernmantle rope in the hand of another runner. it was a nice run but we must’ve pissed off many of makati’s commuters since we blocked off three vital intersections.

i clocked in a time of about 57 minutes and 35 seconds, which is way over my goal. i wanted to improve on my milo time of sub 56 minutes, but the long walk must’ve cost me at lest 2 minutes. at least i finished in under an hour. i received my adidas shoe bag with 5 small snicker chocolate bars and a bottle of viva mineral water. then we proceeded to market! market! for a preclimb meeting. sir manny had reserved the whole of cinema 6 for us. outside, the sign read: “AMCI mountaineers”. people must’ve wondered what movie it was, and how it was rated. haha. it was really cool how the AMCI connections allow for such perks. although the thing was that since it was a movie house, it was expectedly dark. not very ideal for taking down notes. after the team pre-climb meeting, we had a group pre-climb meet at seafood island with malvin, kuya mar, vince, ava, alexis, and myself. mardel tagged along and we had a boodle fight: one big tray lined with banana leaves and a selection of seafood and meat.

ava was sort of spaced out the entire time and she said she felt a bit queasy. after lunch, she threw up on one of the fake trees near the fountain. turns out she was really sick. she suspected it may have been last night’s buffet, but lowell and i were perfectly well. so it must’ve been something else. either that or my innards are made of steel. good thing was that borj was round to drive her, not home, but to st. luke’s. she was discharged the same day.

after a long wait, i finally had my interview. it was like an inquisition. members were seated in the comfy seats in front, and i sat on a monobloc chair, sandwiched between two fluorescent lights. the questions came in one after the other, and i treated it like any interview: very formal, very serious, and very straight-laced. i was just being myself really: loquacious, glib, verbose, rhetorical, literary, latinate, lugubrious, roundabout. talking is a favorite activity of mine, and answering questions is an everyday affair. there were attempts, i think, to rattle me, but i’ve never cracked under pressure. surprisingly though, people thought i was tense since i was conservative with my humor. they’re used to me being really relaxed, comfortable, and mind numbingly funny. like i told them, i treated it like a regular interview. after i was done, people told me it took me more than an hour! never realized that my answers were that kilometric. well, i was just being myself, really. i won’t say that i winged the interview, or that i hacked it or aced it. but i think i answered the questions well enough.

i was supposed to go home after my interview but i was held back by kuya mar. so i decided to stay, and waited over 3 hours for the other interviews to be done, and even sneaked a peak when rizza danced. we had dinner again at seafood island. a band was performing, and they called roland (whom we joked to be celebrating his birthday) in to jam with them. so as not to embarrass the group, bitoy pretended to be roland and performed “ain’t no mountain high enough”. haha. it was so much fun to watch.

after dinner, plans were still being made to proceed to another venue, but i was just too tired to do anything other than sleep.

Tags: 2k5, adidas king of the road, amci

i rushed to calamba this morning to attend a hearing in an illegal logging case that’s been turned over to me by one of my superiors. the case should’ve been dismissed because we were going to utilize one of the accused -- who was really small fry -- as state witness against a bigger fish. but for some reason, the motion to dismiss the case as against him was denied, and so as some sort of concession, the witnesses for the prosecution have just agreed not to appear until the case is provisionally dismissed. so earlier today, my mission really was to create palpable excuses and alibis for their second non appearance. and for that, the judge goes into this long winded lament over the DENR’s apparent lack of interest in pursuing a case against illegal loggers. i really couldn’t tell him the real reason why SMTD’s men were not around. he even threatened that should the witnesses for the prosecution still fail to appear on the next hearing, he would have his order dismissing the case published in a newspaper of general circulation. what that would achieve is beyond me, but in the end, he apologized to me, saying that it’s not my fault, etc. part of the job. just decided to go to LB to buy original buko pie. i purchased their new product: a buko apple pie. yummy.

* * *
with the 15km induction run behind me, i can now focus my energies on two more things before i elevate my status from trainee to inductee: the submission of the letter of intent and the panel interview. the training with AMCI has been the most hectic period of my life this year, and i do not recall ever having a full weekend to myself since last june. my room is an absolute mess, and many many other things have been relegated to the basement. nevertheless, it’s been a wonderful experience, so far. and i’ve done fairly well in nearly all aspects of the training. my co-trainees and i kid about an elite 7, a circle of 12, a top 10 finishers, all of which i belong to. the only list i wasn’t able to make is xenon’s finest. but making it to mike’s hit list is good enough.

Tags: 2k5, amci, law practice

at around 5pm of wednesday, i was pushing down a big cart in SM megamall while i tried to collect my thoughts for my long final exam. i hadn’t managed to study -- not since i returned from orienteering weekend, and not since i started preparing for my climb to amuyao. and i hadn’t managed to think about the real reason i decided to join TC4, when i do not happen to like amuyao. not that the mountain likes me, to begin with, nor does it matter if one likes a mountain or not for it to be there. shortly, don and then much later, jovs, arrived to help me. we were doing our marketing for our meal plan, and don was having a field day throwing stuff into the cart. we had collected P250 from a few people, but we had a bill that ran close to P4000.

we had the final exam at the makati university, and at the time, i knew i didn’t do too well. my BMC manual had fallen victim to the backpack rafting activity, and it was still very wet till that day. while my batchmates busied themselves with planning a get-together somewhere in rockwell, i had to rush home with more than 5 kilos of meat to pre-cook. our departure for banaue would be the next day, thursday. so i slept only at around 2am that day, and still had a few things to do.

at around 8pm, i was still at home, stuffing my backpack, and arranging the stuff we needed for our meal plan. i worried much about the weight of all the food we were carrying to the summit and back again. but i’ve learned, no matter how tall the challenges are, to never scrimp on the feast. besides, i could always give dya-ke extra stuff to carry. we had designated him as our porter for this climb. jovs and i decided to sponsor his climb fee as some kind of a birthday gift.

by a little past 9, i was already in the autobus station along españa with my >20kg backpack, and around 7 supermarket bags, and at the time, only jovs and dya-ke were there. shortly, the rest of the crew trickled in and we boarded at a few minutes to 10pm. but we still lacked 1 more climber. leithon arrived 10 mins after the ETD for banaue. i’d warned the group that it’d be a very cold 8 hour ride, and i had prepared all my cold weather paraphernalia for the trip, but i was rather unceremoniously sweating during the first few hours of it. only when we’d reached lagawe did i put on my malong.

we reached banaue just before 7am, and on kuya mar’s suggestion, we had breakfast at halfway. which may not have been a good decision since our meals took forever to cook. it was also at that time that i realized that apart from the rice, i had also forgotten to bring the chili con carne mix. rushing has always been least of my favorite things.

we were already behind the IT when we departed for barlig at around 8.30am. and given the jeepney’s predilection for making many stops, we reached barlig already after noon. we had a very quick lunch at seaworld resto, which was a very strange name for a canteen right smack in the middle of the cordillera mountain range. they served a few things, including dogmeat. after repacking our loads according to the meal plan, we proceeded to the jump off, but we were derailed by as long as an hour by some barlig-style bureaucracy. apparently, a new 1 guide per 4 climber policy has been implemented by the municipality, and at P500 per guide. since there were 19 of us, we were supposed to get an excess of 4 guides. this was roughroad robbery, if ever there was one! amuyao’s charm was dwindling quickly. it was not necessary to have guides for the climb since there are no confusing forks. and since the guides were only supposed to walk with us to the summit (they won’t accompany us the following day), it definitely wasn’t worth the trouble at all.

but we were literally boxed to a corner, and they wouldn’t allow us to even cross the bridge till we agreed. so TL tito boy settled for 3 guides and we were on our way, with me as part of the lead pack. the first 30 minutes of the trek along the concrete pilapil of the lower terraces was pure torture. sort of gives you an idea that you won’t make it halfway to the summit. the lady guide was just ahead of me, and it wasn’t long before distances between me and the rest of the lead pack were increasing. at the first flat just up ahead, i lowered my bag for the scheduled rest stop. but kuya mar said we had to make up for the lost time. as it was, we were already behind by 4 hours. and having a night trek was most definite. so i hauled my backpack again and started walking. one thing about amuyao is that it is a never-ending assault. one could actually count the few steps one takes along its very few flats. and most of the assault is paved crudely and primitively with slabs of stone and wood. anyone whose legs are shorter than mine would have to exert an effort to make those gargantuan strides.

without thinking much, we mindlessly walked up the staircase encased in an enchanting mossy forest, including the wooden escalator where i remember falling the last time i was there. we rested at the last shed for a while until finally we reached a clearing where it was possible to see the summit’s relay station. two antennae jutted out of the small boxes, and some dishes pointed to several directions. the water source was nearby, and we stopped to load at least 4 liters. the additional two liters on my load may have been too much since right after i had loaded my backpack, i felt incredible pain on my calves and my hamstrings. i was being possessed by an evil pair of muscle cramps, bending my legs and forcing me to kneel. i couldn’t help but watch the rest of the lead pack reduced to specks. i rested, massaged my muscles, and popped in some iodized salt. after a while, i thought i was ready to go again. but barely 20 steps later, the cramps attacked again. i had to let eman pass me since there was this possibility i might not make the summit at all!

when i picked up my bag again 5 minutes later, some pain was still radiating in my legs until i received a phone call from janet. she was delirious! we spoke for more than 5 minutes and that was another rest period for me. while i was talking to her, lyn had caught up with me, and she looked out of it. i was laughing my heart off telling janet how the mountain was killing me! finally, after i said goodbye, i caught up with lyn who paused every 3 steps. i said “look up lyn, we’re 5 minutes from the campsite!” tried to cheer her up. rushed to the site, plopped down my bag and went down again to help one of my IC mates.

so i was at the summit of amuyao just before 6pm, while there was enough light from the sinking sun for us not to use our headlamps. it took me less than 4 hours, which is a big leap from the last time. it took me over 6 hours in the cold wet darkness to get to the tower last year.

i quickly pitched my tent -- pegless (one strong gust of wind and it would have gone tumbling down to barlig) -- and started preparing dinner. for that evening, we were supposed to have chicken curry, ground beef in tomato sauce (which was supposed to be a chili con carne, had i remembered to bring the mix), and a refrigerator cake. i figured since we’d be having arctic conditions up in the tower, the cream would stiffen, but i was dead wrong. we wound up having very good chicken curry, ground beef which seemed more apt for pasta than anything else, and sweet baby food which everyone called gerber dessert (i sort of just mixed the crushed grahams with the cream and the condensed milk). nevertheless, it must have been a filling dinner, since it was gobbled up rather quickly. after that we had the socials, and all us trainees were required to give one joke each. none of the jokes was funny, but eman’s delivery of his was a winner. for alcohol, we had fundador and carlos uno, both of which i found very disagreeable and disgusting and each time i took i shot, i’d grimace almost indescribably. i honestly don’t know what people like about some of these expensive drinks. yuck!

at around 10pm, i decided to turn in. i would wake up every now and then since the socials area was right beside my tent. when jovs and dya-ke came in, i realized how big dyake was since he literally pushed me to the wall. when ver, jovs and i shared my talus 23, it didn’t feel that small. at around 4am, i woke up and slipped out of the tent to prepare breakfast. jazzie was also up so we shared kitchen tasks: she the hash browns, and i the chicken nuggets. shortly after, i also prepared the aligue pasta with squid chunks (for lunch) with don’s assistance. we’re on a strictly no-pork diet for this climb.

by 7am, we were already prepared to descend to pat-yay. TL tito boy briefed us the previous night what to expect on our descent and we were sufficiently warned to be careful. the view from behind the upper building was astounding. as far as the eye can see were layers of undulating ridges and ranges of green mountains covered in a thin blanket of mist. even while the sun was rising, the mountains surrounding amuyao appeared like lazy, dreamy, blue misty mountains, although i had precious little time to take pictures because i had kitchen duties. nevertheless, there was more than enough time to appreciate the abundance of beauty around us.

from the summit, we descended into a mysterious mossy forest which may very well be home to enchanted beings. it looked very much like a scene from a fantasy flick. moss can be very deceptive at times. it may conceal holes and gaps formed by intertwined roots. also, when growing on prostrate logs, it can be very slippery. the edge of the mossy forest is a small waiting shed. from there, the descent continues till we reach a small river near pat-yay. this part is no easier. there are thorny plants all around, and carelessness has a huge price. but somehow, we reached the edge of pat-yay when we came upon a camote plantation. there were women harvesting their crops. by this time, we were way ahead of the IT, and although it was still very early, we decided to have lunch by the cold waters of pedrito’s stream. the temperature was freezing but we gamely took off our sweaty clothing to take a long, relaxing dip. upstream, dya-ke washed his cycling shorts.

after a long, leisurely lunch, we departed for pat-yay. we were supposed to camp at the bat trap ridge, which was about an hour and a half from the pat-yay village proper. getting there wasn’t easy, and crossing terraces wasn’t necessarily fun, since so close to a sign of early civilization, and we’d have a small casualty: lyn injured her right elbow when she used it to cushion her fall over a large boulder. she was asking me for gauze to wrap it with “for the rest of the trek”, when tito boy announced that we’d be staying there for the night. our arses were resting on a flattened out part of the terraces where around 4 traditionally-styled houses stood, apart from a big one where we’d be shacking for the evening. it was barely 2pm, and the climb staff kept repeating that we’d exceeded their expectations. the sweepers arrived about an hour and a half after the lead pack.

nearby, there were very young children who seemed both excited and afraid by our presence. they’d look at us with very inquiring and eager eyes, but would hide at the hint of us approaching. they were particularly afraid of our cameras. interacting with them was an absolute joy, and since we had a lot of free time, we had many opportunities to steal images.

by as early as 4pm, after we left our clothes to dry outside, we were already busy with dinner. i had designated a corner of the first floor as the kitchen area, and i asked the camp keepers to fetch water for the team. i prepared the soup, and nestor haggled with one of the locals for the price of a native chicken. the tab was P200, and it wasn’t long until i noticed the smell of burning feathers. roy took care of making this strange, but tasty, chicken soup, while don cooked kaldereta from a very expensive big-boned cow. he mixed carrots and camote with the brew, and although there was more bone than meat there, the sauce itself was enough of a meal. i prepared fruit salad, which was a lot more successful than my sweet gerber the previous evening.

after dinner, i began preparing breakfast for the following morning. we had another round of socials, and although someone warned very early that we were within the village, we couldn’t quite contain the noise. without the fundador and the carlos uno, gin was the only available drink, which is something i find more tolerable, and i had lots to drink. so much that i provided much of the entertainment that night, harassing both dya-ke and jundel. it was a slow-moving evening, and we could not believe that it was only past 8pm by the time we finished the first few liters.

finally, at around 9.30pm, i crawled into bed, and quickly fell asleep after i set the alarm. the next thing i remember is waking up, feeling cold, and failing to refuse a call of nature. went down, pissed, put on a jacket, and fell asleep again. someone pulled on my big toe and i just looked at that person. i wore my headlamp, but fell asleep again. i only got up when jovs woke me up, asking that i take care of breakfast. very unwillingly, i pulled myself out of bed, heated water for the swiss miss and the coffee, and reheated the breakfast and lunch i cooked the previous evening.

at 6am, we were all prepared to start our trek to cambulo with 2 guides. the first part of the trek for our final day was an ascent unlike any other. it was short, but very difficult. the view from the ridge, however, was nothing short of outstanding. when you’re in pat-yay, the walls of the terraces appear unattractive and even unpolished. but from a certain higher vantage point, the shape of the terraces becomes a lot more evident, and you are amazed by the ancient engineering principles employed to create them.

from the ridge, it is another punishing descent down loose rocks and loose soil, where the ground breaks and falls apart when the weight of more than one person is applied on them. when we reached the first stream, kuya mar managed to calculate that we’d reach cambulo long before lunch, and he suggested that we push for batad. and so we did. this part of the trek was the most visually-rewarding of the trek. walking along 15 foot high rice terraces, it was often necessary to lean a little towards one direction. a misstep might send falling to a very muddy -- not to mention embarrassing -- grave.

before 11am, we were already in cambulo having lukewarm coke and sprite which retailed at P30 each. it is only from pat-yay that you get to realize that cambulo’s center sits in a riverbend, and that its terraces stretch out along a ridge. from cambulo, there is a sign which reads that batad is 1.5 hours away. nestor and i followed our guide closely, and although none of the members was with us, we decided to rest and frolic on the last stream before the viewdeck. then we fell witness to the majesty that is batad when the narrow, covered trail opened up and we were accosted by the expanse that is the batad ampitheater. i had seen this before while it was much greener, but it is no less magnificent now than it was last february.

we trekked along the terraces parallel to simon’s inn, which we reached in less than 30 minutes. there, kuya mar ordered all the ice cold beer available. we also sampled all the pizza flavors and the very tasty organic rice. by 1pm, we had all washed up, eaten lunch, and were ready to trek up the saddle. i advised everyone to wear shoes over sandals since the trek isn’t as short nor as easy as kuya mar had suggested. however, the last two persons in the team were nowhere in sight. finally, at 4pm, looking at how the sweepers missed the last instruction by going down the cemented stairs, tito boy told me to rush to the saddle to call up autobus and try to convince them to wait for us “at all cost.” so i rushed up the saddle, and my pace may have been too much for dya-ke, because he huffed and puffed along the way. i gave all sorts of excuses and assurances to the autobus people to try to convince them to wait for us, but in all honesty, i knew we’d be left behind. finally, at 6pm, the last man arrived and we rode to banaue amid rain and darkness. i was very very concerned at the time since i knew the way up the saddle was very dangerous and steep. i continued praying, silently this time, since i’d been asked to pray since day 1.

at around 7.20pm, we arrived at the autobus station in banaue. the bus just left 20 minutes earlier. it would have waited longer, but some of the passengers were complaining. so the jeepney pushed for bambang. we were dropped off at a roadside diner just as the jeep overheated. we all had warm, hearty meals at 10pm, and before midnight, we hailed passing buses for our trips back home. by 5.30am, amid the freezing conditions inside the florida bus, i reached quezon avenue. jovs and i took separate cabs getting home, and i was welcomed at our gate by our over-excited dogs. before i proceeded to sleep, i took out my wet clothes from my bag.

i didn’t debate whether or not i’d show up at work that day. in fact, i looked forward to a long day with friends. i was weighed down with the need to tell great stories about a climb that refused to accept all the pessimism that haunted it. we had endured many trials and challenges, and i wanted so much to share what i learned throughout those three days. i conquered many mountains within, while the mountain without humbled me, once again, and i am all the more a better person.

Tags: 2k5, adventure, amci, banaue, batad, cambulo, mount amuyao, mountaineering, pat-yay

last friday, at around 7pm, while i was busy packing my backpack for a weekend in anawangin, i got an SMS from sigz. he was asking updates about the storm. it had been raining since wednesday, and he, like i, was concerned we’d be drenched in zambales. my response was not unlike what i heard on the news: there is no storm, but only an active low pressure area directly over iba, which isn’t too far from pundaquit. my AMCI batch isn’t a stranger to rains, so i continued packing.

before 10pm, i was already in ayala tower 1, teaching folks about backbearing and triangulation. it’s something i would later regret, since this was, after all, a competition. my group made strategies, and before long, we’d come up with a presentation based on the ethnic and pop crossovers of the 80s. mosscake thought of the song “high energy” while we did some muslim courtship dance. we called our group carlo’s angels, because he is, after all, our GL. and so at past 7am, the first groups took off for the first phase of the race: land navigation.

i’ve been to anawangin before, and i remember it to be very dry and arid. this time, however, we were accosted by rivers and lush vegetation. we had trouble with the first point, but quickly found the rest, until we found ourselves in CP1. from there, we encountered other problems in getting to CP2. but we continued pushing on. at this time, we learned that the members -- some of whom were unprepared for a hike -- weren’t ferried by banca to anawangin. the waves were just too large. the trek to the saddle from CP2 isn’t really long, and the elevation isn’t really high, but it slowed us down a bit. there are 3 very competitive people in the group: myself, carlo, and moss, so i was having a hard time hot wiring ava to hurry up. she was slowing us down on the ascent, and she had this: God-i’m-exhausted-i-shouldn’t-even-be-here look on her face. i asked her to wipe it away, and to think about doing well. we’d just learned that ed’s group was around 15 minutes ahead of us. at the saddle, where we waited for over an hour, we shaved 3 minutes off the difference.

from there, we had to trek down to the valley below. more river crossings, and the chances of getting lost were upped. we had to peel our eyes and watch out for trail signs, which were not aplenty. when we reached the skills station, there was some confusion as to the bearings. we complained about this a lot since it prevented us from accomplishing our stations in the speed that we wished. we did well in all the stations, and all of us passed, although i had to “help” out some of my groupmates particularly in the ropemanship station. i performed the rescue breathing part at the first aid station, and JC was my victim.

at the beach, we did our high energy number one last time just after we improvised a makeshift tent using a trekking pole, 4 tarps, and carlo’s bag. we managed to pitch our tents and start cooking dinner before sunset (and after we were evicted from the members’ area of the beach. lyn remarked that there was some power tripping there, which was kind of weird because this was immediately after sir oca told our group that they invest time in us because we are their future climbing buddies. anyway, this was good, since we had really good food, courtesy of chef moss. for dinner we had his black bean chicken, a tofu dish, and a japanese soup. felt refreshed that i didn’t have to interfere with the kitchen since someone more able was around.

i just sort of went around for chitchat and for a few shots. and the shots continued while the other groups trickled in one by one. by the time we’d finished dinner, some were just starting to cook. we had already bathed in the cool river nearby and changed to more comfortable clothes while the rest weren’t even done with some of the skills stations. this group was a good balance of brains and brawn. not to mention creativity.

i hadn’t managed to look around too much, but i could tell that anawangin had not lost its charm. it is still very unique: very erect pine trees spread out, invading the beach. the sea looked menacing, with waves of a size to crush small boats performing in synch to an unheard and unseen orchestra.

when night fell, the parties finally began. there were small parties in this camp and that camp, and i jumped from one to the next. by 10pm, my speech was a little slurred and i knew i couldn’t take more, lest i find myself drooling, once again, on the beach, with hot sauce on my bellybutton and spit -- or worse: vomit -- on my chest. the full moon was just over us and i searched for moss who promised to give me a reading. he was already very wasted, and sleeping. so i just went to the parties. had some of that middle eastern smoke which i first tasted in friendly’s. by midnight (no lights out! all climbs ought to be like this!), things were turning weird, and i -- being sober and in full control of my senses -- became a mute witness to all the delirium brought about by these bacchanalian rituals. quite a handful of girls were so wiped out, they had to be carried to their tents. i put my first aid training to good use when i carried a very wasted tintin to her tent. she’s not even 100lbs, although i swear she was heavier than 200 pounds of lead. many minutes after i listened to her incongruous speech, my hands were still shaking.

most of the things i became witness to are the kind of things you try not to remember. alcohol has strange effects on some people, and it could very well disrobe people of their inhibitions, or release some hidden desire, or uncover the unconscious. but there are also some happy and funny things, like dyake, who refused to rise from his sandy bed, because “sarado pa ang PNB” and he couldn’t withdraw.

in the morning, we woke up before 5am. moss again prepared breakfast and lunch, while i took care of putting down the tent, going around and telling people i was completely sober the previous night, making people laugh, and practicing moss’s cheeekah! we had breakfast, which was really good!

after that, we did backpack rafting along the river. in no part of the river is it deep enough to drown anyone, so it was easy to actually cheat. i had difficulty with my propulsion and i could hardly move forward. ava and lyn had to be towed by the underwater hockey boys, while i swam like i sick turtle. when i opened my pack: voila! wet! my stuff was completely dry, but my first waterproofing was drenched. i think my bag became twice heavier immediately after that.

at 11am, we trekked back to pundaquit. although the valley and anawangin itself is filled with cool surprises, this was most difficult. the sun was an overpowering presence all throughout, and we took extended pauses in all the places where there was water. trekking back up the saddle was an absolute chore. my bag was heavy! i wanted to throw something away. getting down though was less difficult, but since there was absolutely no trail (someone removed the straw), it was basically every mountaineer for himself. i broke away from the group, and for some reason, found myself not exactly on the trail but somewhere near it. i also got there ahead of the group which left the saddle at least 30 minutes ahead of me. i found a nice pool which was deep enough to actually jump from a 10 foot rock. coaxed people to join me, and quite a few obliged. we had fun there and stayed a long time. from there, we went straight to pundaquit and washed up.

it was already very late in the evening when we reached ayala tower 1.

i had a great time in anawangin, and we may not have finished first, but we certainly finished well. the place itself is very special and unique, and i will not mind returning to it, even when waves are bigger, and even when the chances of getting lost are higher.

Tags: 2k5, amci, anawangin, mountaineering, orienteering