it has been a while since i was really active posting a blog here. about nine months almost.
and now that i came back, i am giving birth to another subject for this blog. In between my posts of my own travel activities, i'd be mingling in itineraries through the Philippines and beyond which i had already researched for everybody's reference. I had also put up links on my sidebar for easier access to each blog.
so there! let us begin our journey once again..
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I almost gave up my hope to be a mountaineer.
Taking up an unfamiliar mountain even classified as level 1, with hardly any experience at all, proved to be a loooooot difficult and potentially dangerous for us novices than I had expected.
Mt. Kalisungan in the towns of Calauan and Nagcarlan in Laguna came as a prospect for a day climb. 745 meters above sea level, it was identified as an easy climb with only two hours to burn.
Coming from alabang, I assumed it will not eat up the entire day climbing through Erais farm in Calauan and making a traverse via the atimlia trail to Nagcarlan so I squeezed in bunga falls, a possible trek to nagcarlan underground cemetery, and a dinner overlooking the lakes of San Pablo city. It was an ambitious and naive itinerary I realized after.
The calamba bus liner was our first ride going to Calauan. The bus snaked thru morning traffic in Calamba and Los Banos before we alighted in Brgy. Masapang. It was marked by a huge maroon duck statue with an equally large egg underneath. We then hired a tricycle to drop us at Erais farm. Even seated inside the sidecar, I saw how the mountain towered over the town. And my excitement leveled up.
Walking near the foot of it, I felt dwarfed. Maybe it was the direct frontal view of the mountain that I started to feel like, “can I really do it?” It was like the mountain was confronting me, a giant ready to pounce. And I was still pondering when early on the climb, we already missed the first trail. Instead of going towards the trek, we found ourselves in a local’s door. “Was that bad omen?”
Leaving behind discouraging thoughts, we cut through the grass back towards the mountain trail. It was a muddy trail, an effect of the rain of previous day. We were unprepared. We brought only a liter of water each. We knew we underestimated this climb, nonetheless, we continued.
On first obvious fork, we took the left one on to another farmer. He was very helpful though and brought us back to the right trail and cleared the path for us. He advised us not to go west and just follow the trail straight up; along the way were 14 Stations of the Cross, he told us. Ten minutes more and we met another dubious fork. The right trail was clean and established. I checked on the left since “manong” told us not to make a right but it was covered. Decidedly, we went for the trail on the right (should have been otherwise), passing thru mosquitoes, ants, and felt my shoes thickening with soil.
Another ten minutes and we came to a halt; neither was there any continuing trail nor any signs of the cross. Only evident of a previous presence was a stack of young coconut shells. The good thing though in climbing this mountain was that you always get a good view of the Talim Island. But had we known better, we should have retraced our tracks back. Instead, we tried making our own trail, walked along more coconut, banana, and gabi farms, bushes and lots of interlaced branches of trees. And snake holes. I in the lead and frightened as I was, it was not seldom that I did not see anyone behind me. I was walking and walking, wanting to end the hike, trying to find an easier less panicky way.
One of us asked me to stop and I came back into my senses. I was not alone, not the only one who was tired and lost. And uncomfortable. And though we were, we started to enjoy the climb again despite drizzles of rain and a couple of slips. Each unique view of the lowlands and the other mountains on the west refueled us. The camaraderie and the sharing of the group were sustaining my strength.
It was passed 12 noon, 3hrs into hike when we took our lunch and rest in a hut. We knew we were nearing the top but we were still clueless. There were a couple of trails and we decided to follow the steepest.. 5 minutes later we reached a bay of sweet potatoes. Further up was a cogon country blocking us. We tried to walk around it to the left where there was a ‘dalandan” farm, however, even that was impassable. I was tempted to climb an old tree if only to survey the area but I could hardly see where I was stepping on. So we went back where it was safer and had a master-view.
It could have been better at the peak. It was way passed 2pm and I wanted to see the station of cross but up until here we never saw a piece. No matter how I strained my neck and eyes, I did not have a glimpse of the big cross I was about to see at the top. I was aching for it.
The cogon was thick and I blindly hoped that 15 or so meters into it, we’ll be back into a clean track and considerably closer to where we were heading. We took a branch of a young kakawate tree to help us navigate. For a couple of minutes, we shoved, broke, stepped. It was exhausting, the more we went up, the more we found ourselves immersed in grass with height reaching way much than ours and the only way we can survey the area was for someone to stand on another’s shoulder.
I stood up, my legs were shaking. My eyes failed me. We pushed and broke and stepped faster until I doubted what I saw. For the second time, I went up, and almost lost my balance. I almost saw myself flying into the air, hands flailing, head into the stones. Then I saw and accepted it. It would take us another hour to cross and at 4pm, there was no way for us to see the peak that I so desired that day. That meant we need to camp, and we were not ready. Though we brought tent, and packed food, we barely had enough water to last us. It was disconcerting. I felt humbled. It took us 6hrs of hike and we missed what we went for. I felt a 50 pound barrel weighing on my foot my first step down.
The adversities did not end there. The drizzles only worsened the condition and the slippers were straining legs already. We tried to follow our previous path but we could hardly distinguish any. Just as we thought we were pursuing home, we realized we missed again. The only way we could track back was to keep going right which meant passing division of lands that was fenced by uncleaned patches, where they allowed the grass, vines, trees, and bushes deliberately unkept. In the dense bushes, I felt the snakes watching, smelling. And with every step, I felt their breathing and mine.
I used the kakawate for checking out sudden gap in the steps to keep from injury. Then I heard a scream. My mate sprained a shoulder when there was a slip, stopped, held onto a branch and strained. I too had slipped and sprained my palm but this was minute compared to the other. Then it was dusk. I felt desperate for water, for bath, for hot food, for home. I missed the comfort and was unsure if we can make it at the foot before nightfall. We kept going right and braved numerous dangerous gaps.
Then finally when I looked down I saw a trail. Afterwards was an easier descent. We saw only one station though. The typhoons had broken the small wood and luckily, still posted was a depiction of the Saviour’s love for humanity.
Back on the streets we ate fishballs, squidballs, and softdrinks. sooo extra good and familiar. At the intersection, we cleaned up in kainan sa kamalig, and had adobo and nilagang pata ng kalabaw for dinner. Across was an option to feast on kambing or a not so exotic meal in laguna garden resto, and itik lovers would love the foodstand nearby, their specialty is kinulob na itik.
Safer and more secured, it was easier to talk about the stress, the disappointments, the highs and the lows of this mountain and the experience. I almost got a whacking for suggesting beaches and giving up on mountains. Truly it was a test of character, patience, and judgment calls. It was wrong to brag and challenge it. Clearly, I was a new person going down that mountain. I did not reach the top but one day I will be up again and respect the mountain for what it really is.
Linked Post:
> Finally: The SUMMIT - Mt. Kalisungan Part 2
home to our mangyan brothers and sisters is the province of mindoro, on the southern tip of batangas province. apart from the tamaraws, this province boasts itself as the nearest diving capital to manila. so diverse is the marine life here that vacationers could hardly find their own spot in the major beaches, particularly on the peak summer months. Fortunately, this gem island province also protects numerous coves and bays, some of them still untamed and far from the diving hubs. some independent resorts settled themselves apart from the populated sabang, la laguna beaches, white and aninuan beach. thier isolation and privacy and silent perfect beauties lie waiting for indulgent tourists.
And true enough, one of them offered me a place for my senses..
the resort had its own port, ready for its speedboat delivering visitors from the muelle pier, the main port entry to the norther mindoro. lined in the port are sitting, and dining areas.
on the edge off the water sat the lazing area where comfortable couches invitingly rested around. opposite this communal area was the very unique bar area furnished literally around a buri tree.
still overlooking the beautiful bay, was the swimming pool where half a dozen lounges laid ready for tanning enthusiasts.
and indeed, the best facility were the villas, all with their own lofts and beautiful bathrooms and relaxing porches..
not long ago, i was here and it was an experience of peace and comfort.
one noon, i was on to my first speedboat ride.i was to believe that indeed i was being transported into one beautiful memory. for one day, i lived isolated from the world. just the awesome beautiful surroundings and the new experiences. i was to explore the nearby coves, view the beautiful sunset on a footpath slightly elevated right beside the cliffs and the characteristic rock boulders.most of the night, i spent wading in the pool. i tried to learn and readied myself to a day of snorkeling and exploring. i slept in the singing of the fireflies and woke up in the sound of the waves. i started my day in the raft, watched the fishes,touched and felt the sweet coldness of the sea. i had a sumptous breakfast. just enough for i was to explore the seas on kayak, and ala robinson crusoe visited one unprotected bay.I was frightened when without warning there was the sudden rise of tides, and i could still hear myself screaming and i could still see myself in a swift run through wild sand to recover my kayak.
i was no swimmer. i had no vest. and it was open sea.
i experienced vulnerability. and yet there was peace.
"photos borrowed from travelsamrt.""
Just a week after we chilled in taytay falls, we scheduled a trek for cavinti twin falls. We thought this was a good follow-up. And it proved to be a day of hard labor.
The trip going sta. cruz and then to nagcarlan was fairly unincidental. After a stop-over and a few photos of the nagcarlan church, we rode the puj for japanese garden. With fantastic view of the cavinti lake and a few river crossings, one could see how beautiful this ecotown is. An hour later, we reached the park where we started the trek.However, we had not prepared for the drought that followed. What was supposed to be an hour trek and 1130 eta, had come to a 330eta, 2 kites, a town and two friendly folks after.
In the park, visitors will have to pass thru the paved rd up to the the fenced boundaries were it's necessary to crawl or pitch our legs up thru the wires. Before we came here, it was advised to ask the permission of the caretaker before venturing further. But there was no one else on the area and downside was nobody told us were to head. we were right on the first 200m. but we realized we missed when we reached the other side of the hills and met the townsfolk of the next town. what happened was that we followed the trail of the logs their carabaos were hauling. wise, huh.
So we retraced our tracks and took another trail, retraced, new trail, retraced until my unexercised legs gave up. So while my company was looking for a local guide, i rested and prepared our lunch of tuna and salted egg.
We didn't find help early on but with great views around us, it's not so bad being trapped here. Really, the place was beautiful ad napping under a well-shaded place under the tree does regenerate one's strength. we didn't rest long though coz the wind was teasing us. It quite excited me coz we actually came ready to make and fly kites which was first time for me. really memorable and childish. hehe.
Finally at 3pm we saw a man! and he went guiding us towards the twin falls. It was not as breathtaking as i hoped it is, but it was not raining much and the force of the water could hardly make up a good cascade. The water we thought we could plunged into after the heat wasn't flowing invitingly. Honestly, it was the success of getting there which made do for the lost hours. It was still a sight in itself though and after filling ourselves with a few photos, we headed back.
We were water-short and I ended up munching, juicing tomatoes to quench my thirst. whew! thanks God the guard in the japanese park shared with us much of his reserved.
It was exhausting, but it left me wanting to explore. after all, i don't get much of nature like this back in makati. Especially when we capped the day soaked in a private hot spring in calamba city. Nothing like a good trek and a spa after.
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