I
AM SUPPOSED TO be in Bohol today, October 18, 2015, but a strong
typhoon battered the north of the country and the Coast Guard has
released a stern advisory on sea travel. My wife thought it not wise
to proceed on and so she had all our tickets refunded against my
wishes. That would also confine me to an inactivity on a Sunday
which I find so alien now in my system.
I
always go out to the backcountry every Sunday be it in the best or
under inclement weather or be it with companions or alone. Every
Sunday is allotted for a walk with nature and I have good reasons for
that to the dismay of the wife, who understood and allowed me despite
her protestations. If she would have not, the bed would have claimed
me as an everyday companion and I would be a medical case.
The
moment that I learned of the shelved trip, I absently assemble all
the things inside my Lifeguard USA rucksack. Included are two small
pots and one-fourth of a kilo of milled corn, small plastic bottles
of cooking oil and salt, an AJF folding trivet and a plastic chopping
board. I will go to Buhisan alone to look for a good place to train
ladies for the audition of “Expedition Philippines” and to
look for things to help in their training.
Yeah,
I am carrying a heavy load for such a trifle activity. Even my wife
noticed that. She reminded me about my load which is unusual for
just a day hike. It is already late and I do not have time to
disassemble the contents of the bag. I would have to carry this load
instead as a training load in preparation for Segment IV of the Cebu
Highlands Trail Project which is just four days away.
By
the way, Segment IV is an exploration hike that starts from Mount
Manunggal, Balamban and ends at Caurasan, Carmen. It will be on the
dates of October 22 to 25, 2015. It is more than fifty kilometers
long but the very rugged terrain, the total lack of knowledge of its
trails, absence of information and guide and the inherent risks to
personal safety make this my most challenging journey for the Cebu
Highlands Trail Project.
I
will be alone today and I commute to Guadalupe. I will forego about
the cooking and proceed instead to the business of survival hiking
fare: bread and water. I fill my water bottle full and stash just
two pieces of bread. My mind is still unclear. Yes, I will go to
Buhisan but which route? I settled for the longest. Okay, even if
it is already very late – 08:45 – the cool weather is stacked in
favor of me. I will pass Heartbreak Ridge.
I
climb the flight of stone stairs to the ridge and stop by the last
store to buy a single sachet of 3-in-1 coffee. I get my AJF Gahum
knife from the bag and hang it from my 5.11 belt while stripping the
Canon IXUS camera off of its pouch and slide it inside the right
pocket of my khaki Blackhawk pants. The long pants is heavy but I am
unfazed. In fact, it gives me confidence to prowl the bushes.
For
the fifth time, I am using my new Merrell Geomorph shoes. This would
be the final break-in test before bringing it to the Segment IV hike.
I will not be in a hurry today. The ground is wet and limestones
are slippery. I am still very careful even with good shoes. I may
trust my equipment but I always respect nature first. You cannot be
too sure. Never underestimate a wet trail.
I
pass by the steel tower and go on the tunnel vent and beyond without
stopping. I am sweating even if the skies are cloudy and the winds
blow constantly at 18 kilometers per hour. This is the good thing
when you hike in the Visayas in the worst weather affecting the
north. But when we get one bad typhoon, expect our brothers in Luzon
to enjoy favorable weather too. Tit for tat.
One
of the things why I am out of the comforts that my home would have
provided me on a Sunday is that I also want to field test a portable
iCOM VHF radio with an extendable Skyprobe antenna. Communications
is an important part in explorations and the radio equipment would be
very vital in my day-to-day progress, as well as receiving weather
updates. I stop for a while to communicate with my Base Support Team
– the Eagle Base – using the station frequency of Ham Radio Cebu.
Some
of the weeds are in bloom and I captured this in camera. There is so
much to learn in local vegetation. I may know some but 99-percent of
these remain incognito. My thirst for more knowledge about plants is
an ongoing process. Because I do not walk on mountains just to
benefit my health and my self-confidence, I stop often to enjoy
nature's beauty at closer range possible and I appreciate it when
these are in good health.
I
am very fortunate to walk on a trail where nobody knows except
locals. I am also very fortunate to pursue on a journey without
companions for human noise drown out natural sounds. Few people
would engage on lone hikes and these few people have found harmony in
themselves and with nature. I prefer being alone not because I want
to but because I owe my existence to my close links with the natural
world.
One
of the privileges why walking alone is beneficial for me is I could
act like a fool without causing anyone to worry or laugh at me. It
seems crazy but I have some good reasons like testing my new
Merrells. A wet trail is a hazard in itself if taken downhill and
this is terrain where shoe reputations are made or unmade. Well-worn
limestones too. I deliberately step on one and my shoe lose traction
and I fall on the side of the trail.
Been
expecting that slip. I shrug off the leaves that stuck to my clothes
and went on my way. Picked up dried wiry vines that had already been
neatly rolled by a farmer and tuck it securely on the side of my bag.
My tummy is acting strangely and immediately my eyes scanned a
big-leafed shrub and an animal trail. You know how it goes when no
one is with you. Come on, use your imagination. I picked up a
warped old 45 polyvinyl disc and keep it in my bag after I have
finished my nature call.
I
met a local with a heavy sack over his head and I gave the privilege
of the trail to him. Despite gaining little in his progress by the
heavy weight, the man took time to ask me why I am alone today? I
answered him honestly and he went on his way grinning. I saw a woman
splitting firewood with a bolo from a distance and she smiled when I
gave her morning greetings. I talked to another local with a sack of
coconuts over his head and asking me the same question. He gave his
name as Ronald.
I
reach the place called the Portal at 10:45 and I savor my first sips
of my water. Meanwhile, my mind is working which of the seven routes
would I take. I chose one that goes deep into jungle which leads to
a stream. The trail is beginning to vanish as the vegetation claimed
the bare grounds. Some parts have been washed away by water making
my walk quite dangerous. The Merrells never failed me here but my
sense of balance begins to irritate me.
It
could be caused by different factors: 1) Lack of breakfast, 2)
overweight or a 3) shifting backpack. I considered all three but I
suspect the bag. It is overloaded by useless weights and the insides
shift when I move. The bag is of old-school design and does not have
a waist belt to hold the bag still. I use my hands when I need to as
I weave along a tiny ribbon of ground which sometimes went missing
for a time.
The
last time I passed by here was in December 2014. That time I was
leading people into the streams but the path that provided me through
there had been missing or that the vegetation had really gobbled it
up for good. I am now in a quandary if the other trail that would
lead to Starbucks Hill would not be found also. I changed plans and
take another trail but it led me to a familiar hill and to a
community which I want to sidestep at.
I
am back to square one and I start from there to Creek Alpha instead.
A great transformation from the original plan. Reaching the
community took a lot of my energy which no bread could compensate. I
can now feel the burning hunger. I can never discipline a brain that
automatically sends signal from the stomach. Well, it can wait for I
intend to go slow to keep the mind from dictating its wishes on me.
I
reach Creek Alpha at my own pace at 12:25 and I would go downstream
to where a trail would lead me to another stream. The water is clear
and briskly running in the fulness of its existence in a rainy
season. Ahead are footprints of children and adult alike,
distinguishable by bare and sandaled feet on sand. My senses peaked
up a notch upon learning of people ahead of me. The sensation of
hunger is now totally gone.
Meanwhile,
my close observations on plants have led me to an exposed rootcrop of
an Asiatic bitter yam (Local name: kobong) and I plucked a
piece intending to propagate it on my backyard. The thorny vines
make a good obstacle for burglars and strays. As I proceed on, I saw
a small stream that connects to the bigger Creek Alpha. It looks
good even if going above it takes a little climbing. I found a small
pool and, above it, more climbing.
I
go back to the main stream and found the trail. I reach Creek Bravo
at 13:20 and take a short rest. I see the groves of water bamboos
(botong) above me are recovering from its desecration of two
years ago and, I believe, a single pole is ripe for the taking for
another bushcraft camp should I host it back here. I take another
trail bound for Camp Damazo taking dry twigs for firewood along the
way. I may have to boil water at the campsite to dump the contents
of my only sachet of coffee into it.
I
reach the camp at 14:20 and begin a fire between a trio of stones.
Camp Damazo is still the best place to do these trainings for the
ladies, even of the auditions itself, because it has a clean source
of water nearby. Likewise, it could now host another episode of the
Philippine Independence Bushcraft Camp since the vegetation had
already stabilized. It could host more people this time since there
is a wide level ground a few meters away from camp.
After
I had my coffee, I continue my hike at 15:20. The natural spring
which had provided the camp with reliable water had become a small
stream. Strong rains had caused the enlargement of the hole and
washed away the bamboo trough that I had placed there in 2013. Its
source came from another stream some 300 meters away, which I called
Creek Charlie, whose water passes through permeable rock, sand and
clay.
I
push on and cross two more small streams, the upper parts of Alpha
and Bravo, and climb up a steep trail that passes by healthy stands
of stinging trees (alingatong) beside a stream. I reach
Baksan Road and cross it to view a firewood gatherer’s version of a
Nessmuk triumvirate. It is a heavy US-made axehead with a thick GI
pipe for a haft; a local blade – 20 inches long – whose handle is
bound by strips of rubber; and a stainless kitchen knife whose blade
had metamorphosed into a mere sliver due to constant sharpening.
I
take an easy stroll down to Lanipao enjoying the full bloom of the
plants until I reach it at 16:50 and down some more to Napo which I
found at 17:30. I got a motorcycle ride back to Guadalupe and
changed to dry clothes while at the parking area of the Catholic
church. I spend the rest of my day for a couple of cold San Miguel
Beer bottles at a watering hole frequented by expats. Cheers!
Mission accomplished.
Document
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