DAY
SEVENTEEN ::::: THERE IS A GOOD PROMISE from the heavens today,
February 4, 2017. Yes, there is sunrise and the hillsides are painted
in golden yellow. The small village of Bangkito, Tuburan would be
bathed in sunlight soon. Although I may have the best sleeping place
among my companions and among those who provided security for us, it
is as if, just the same, I was sleeping outdoors. The cold penetrates
layers and obstacles and no amount of hunkering and shifting of body
could stop that until you use your head.
I
put on a dry pair of socks last night but the real winner was, once
again, a plastic bag covering the head. Yes, the lowly plastic bag.
Just big enough to fit on your head and small enough so it will not
slide down and suffocate you. Tried it first at Cantipla Ridge, Cebu
City on a very wet day last November and I was surprised that I was
able to sleep through the night without shivering. I stopped the
shivering midway through last night only when I touched one of my
empty plastic bags. They make noise, you see. My apologies then to to
those experiencing a sleepless night.
Jonathaniel
Apurado has helping hands this time cooking the food. Mark and
Mirasol Lepon lent their kitchen knives, pots and their strange
alcohol burner to the fray. But there would be no Knorr soup this
time as I had some of it donated to the 13-man squad from the 78th
Infantry Battalion who walked here yesterday from their detachment in
Sacsac, Tuburan to secure our presence. Once again, I secretly passed
some food for our army whom I feel should be fed better than just
sardines and crackers. I shared a pack of Titay’s rosquillos to a
group of kids as they happily show it off through their wee little
forefingers.
We
have a breakfast of miso soup with real floating seaweed, corned beef
and a funny looking rice. Coffee then provides the closure after
another morning ritual of swallowing capsules of Enervon
multivitamins and Herbalife natural raw Guarana plus Yakult cultured
milk courtesy of Jingaling Campomanes. The village center is a
beehive of activity of children enjoying their weekend as well as
folks looking forward to visit a market fair in an adjoining town of
Carmen to trade their produce.
The
6-man team from the PNP Special Reaction Unit just had their
breakfast courtesy of a village councilor while the Army is still
haggling with a resident about a couple of native fowls which are to
be their breakfast and lunch. I thanked each village official for
accommodating me and my companions, to include the PNP SRU and the
Army’s 78IB. The route of the Cebu Highlands Trail have chosen
their village as either a stopover or as replenishment area and good
things will happen once tourists come to walk it.
The
78IB guys choose to stay for awhile as we said our goodbyes at 08:40.
They have things to do, building trust and communication lines with
the villagers and that breakfast which has yet to materialize. The
PNP SRU would walk with us down the only link of Bangkito to the rest
of Tuburan municipality. We would split at a spot where there is a
trail that would lead the Thruhike down to the boundary with the
Municipality of Carmen.
The
trail is good, muddy at many parts, and the challenge begins. It is
not steep. It gradually goes down a small stream and on another
bigger stream. After crossing it, the path goes up. It would have
been easier in another time but today, on Day Sixteen, it sucks. Too
many people have trodden it in the early hours of the morning,
bringing with them water from the stream that their footwear carried,
which mixed and mired the already muddied ground from yesterday’s
rain.
The
trail have widened to even as wide as six meters as people tried to
walk on places where there were no mud yet. Then more people with
their farm animals choose virgin ground and everywhere where it is
possible to move forward and you got there a morass of a trail. It
was hard on the steepest stretch where an effort, a step forward,
would make you slide two or three steps back on account of gravity.
Mark and Mirasol are struggling hard. Jon and Justin Apurado are
doing well, barely.
I
am listening to my feet. If it complains of the wet Kailas socks that
I had worn for the second day, then I have trouble and change that
with a clean dry pair tomorrow. If not then life goes on and it goes
on its third day tomorrow. The Hi-Tec Lima shoes begun to show kinks
in its armor. The thread that have sewn the rubber soles with its
nubuck leather uppers began to loosen. I see a tell-tale sign that
one of the pair would give up. For now, it would nurse my feet. For
now, it will carry me along.
We
pass by a natural spring and refilled water bottles. Soon we would be
on the market of Taguini, which is a part of Caorasan, Carmen. We did
arrive at 11:45 but not after muddying our shoes and trousers up to
our knees. We ordered cooked food in one of these small huts that do
business only during Saturdays. Sent a text message to the Carmen
Police Station regarding our presence and the Thruhike when I found a
signal hovering on the second bar, which is good enough.
Although
the weather is mild, it is so humid. After an hour of rest, we follow
a very rough road that goes on its rolling passage among hills and,
at one time, over a long and steep climb. We intend to do courtesy
calls on the village chairman of Caurasan, Hon. Tirso Andales, and on
another Army detachment of the 78IB. We arrive there at 14:00 and we
were properly received. At 15:00, we leave Caurasan bound for
Bongyas, Catmon. A strong downpour overtook us along the trail,
slowing us down. There is not much daylight left, especially official
daylight government hours.
I
noted that Mt. Kapayas could be scaled at a lesser height from where
we passed. The narrow trail is winding, soft on some parts and, on
another stretch, so slippery. It is also tricky since it connects
with other trails and that was what happened when I got led into
Amancion, Catmon. I blundered as my judgment got the better of me.
Maybe fatigue and too much brain stress, evaluating all the risks we
got past, to include dealing with people.
Fortunately,
a lone woman walking towards us showed us back to where we came from
and, not only that, she is going home to Bongyas! She gave her name
as Belen Oro and she saw us at Taguini while we were having lunch,
never expecting that she would meet us here. She just visited her
sister after she sold all her budbud kabog, a native delicacy.
She would guide us to the residence of the village chairman instead
and told us that the village chairman’s wife is her older sister.
We just had a stroke of fortune, oh dearest me.
We
arrive at the home of Hon. Sulpicio Branzuela at 17:00, visibility
good enough to offer recognition on our faces. The dear village
chairman remembered me from last time, almost exactly a year ago,
when I started my Segment VI Exploration Hike. I asked permission if
he would so allow us to pitch shelters at the back of his humble
home. He agreed but it would not be outdoors. He would accommodate us
all inside since the weather is a bit disagreeable. Indeed it is cold
at this hour and it would be colder still in the coming hours.
A
roofed shelter is the best thing to dream about and that turned into
a reality. The gods must have favored us. We were all wet, hungry,
tired, thirsty and cold. Marciana, his wife was more than happy to
welcome us. She misses her children, who are all grown up and
married. I could feel the loneliness of the old couple. Their
children, like everyone else, began to like living in the big cities
where there are so many conveniences of life. They know that life on
the mountains is hard.
Yes
it is indeed hard. Marciana told me that she carried a half sack of
millet in the morning to have it milled but came back disappointed.
It meant that she has to balance the 8-kilo sack over her head on a
slippery trail going down to the village center of Bongyas, which is
one-and-one-half kilometers distant, and then paying 50 pesos for a
motorcycle to bring her to Catmondaan, on the coast of Catmon.
Finding that her regular miller is indisposed, she has to hire a
motorcycle and pay another 50 pesos to take her back to Bongyas and
then hike up that 1-1/2 kilometers back to her house in the
afternoon. She is 68.
She
showed me the unground millet. This was the staple food of ancient
Cebuanos, before the Spanish came. It is not grown elsewhere anymore
in Cebu except in Bongyas, Amancion and Cambangkaya, all in Catmon
municipality. Boboi Costas of the Provincial Tourism Office have
personally tasked me to document where the millet is specifically
found and grown. I had taken a picture of the millet and has a name
now of one of the traditional growers. Not only that, Marciana, knows
how to make magic with the millet.
We
cooked dinner on the couple’s hearth. Although firewood is offered,
we insist we use our own alcohol burners and fuel. We got four
alcohol burners glowing simultaneously to boil water for coffee, cook
rice, warm up pork and beans and make my Korean spicy noodles more
alive and tasty! We dined together with the old couple and their home
begins to go warm as conversations light up the dreary cold night.
There is electricity but, the couple says, they had it just last
year. What available outlets present, are left to the mercy of the
battery chargers.
The
winds howled outside. Cold could have crept early if we have pitched
our sleeping quarters outside. The good village chairman and his
equally good wife made a difference why we are warm tonight. We have
rugs instead of ground pads, we have pillows instead of stones, and
we have blankets instead of fogs. Our warm bodies, closer together,
made our sleep most comfortable as possible. On a night like this,
someone said, angels come down from heaven and hover over every night
to watch over honest people. Just my dream.
Distance
Walked: 13.37 kilometers
Elevation
Gained: 687 meters and a low of 341 meters
DAY
EIGHTEEN ::::: WE COULD NOT BELIEVE our streak of fortune we had
yesterday. We were truly blessed with meeting the right people. It
surprised me that people with simple but beautiful dispositions in
life are still that many in these places that, not too long ago, if
my memory serves me right, were a hotbed of insurgency. I know these
many places I passed by since Day One because I read it in newspapers
almost everyday in the ‘80s and the ‘90s, and gets mentioned
sometimes in the early years of the new millennium.
I
know it was like a nightmare for those who stuck to their farms and
homes here up to the very end when darkness was finally overcome by
the goodness that were a combination of Cebuano cultural traits,
justice and reform, and faith in God and governance. Of course, I may
have had second thoughts when I first did these exploration hikes to
complete the Cebu Highland Trails but my trust and belief in the
goodness of man, no matter how hard fate and injustice may have
caused him in the past, won out. I will not deny them that chance of
good fortune if ever the CHT brought in ceaseless blessings for them.
The
coldness of early mornings are getting intense as I walk more to the
north. Februarys are always like that in Cebu when the northeast
monsoon winds carry the winter cold of Japan, Siberia and China to
the equator. I am the first to rise for I seek the call of nature.
When I came back, Marciana, the wife of the village chairman of
Bongyas, Catmon is already up. His husband, Hon. Sulpicio Branzuela,
had fired up their hearth, feeding it with more firewood. A big black
pot belch steam coming from the insides.
Jonathaniel
Apurado finished checking last night’s charging of the batteries on
his Nikon camera and Cherry Mobile U2 phone. I took advantage of the
vacant portholes and charge my own Cherry Mobile U2 and Lenovo A7000
smartphone, even though how little time left to fill those hungry
batteries. Although the rain had stopped on this cold day of February
5, 2017, the ground and everything above it are wet. The valley below
me is shrouded in fog and I thought I heard thunder.
Justin
Apurado decides to move from his warm bed and goes outside to worship
nature. The couple Mark and Mirasol Lepon are still absent from my
view. They slept inside a room which the Branzuela couple have
offered them. Marciana, the wife, informed us that they are cooking
something for our breakfast. It was awkward on our part to decline
their offer. We promised them however that we will leave some of our
food with them as our token of thanks. We explained to them that we
will be supplied food and fuel soon.
Day
Eighteen promises a re-supply at Tabili, Catmon later in the day. We
only need to get there and wait for the supply team. It is already
fixed. Planning the Thruhike took me many years but putting in the
pieces to make the big pie took me just 60 days, give or take 5 days.
If you compare mine with big expeditions, I think mine comes to the
term as short notice. Only one sponsor, Derek’s Classic Blade
Exchange, opened up their purse early to start my machinery moving.
The rest flood me theirs on the last minute which induced me a dose
of panic buying.
The
good Branzuela couple, distinguished family of Bongyas, cooked milled
corn and free-rein chicken soup for a grand breakfast. We all eat on
their round table. The lady is a good cook. She mixed an edible
legume which enhanced the taste and thickened the soup. It is so
different from all the rest. When we have finished, we leave our
Knorr soup packs, rice, sachets of soy sauce and vinegar, cooking
oil, Tang, Goya and Ovaltine chocolate drinks and Blend 45 coffee.
Not only that, Mark gave Marciana his DIY alcohol burner and DIY
windscreen. The old couple were mesmerized by our alcohol burners.
Outside
of the house is a dead black bird. It was not there yesterday. It
froze to death. How strange? There must have been angels here last
night. We said our goodbyes to the good couple as we start to walk
down the trail to the main village at 09:46. We spent a longer time
with them as we were endeared to their fine manners. The ground is
slippery. Marciana said that this is not the right season to plant
millet and so there are no fields to take photos of.
From
Bongyas, we walk on a road that is only paved where the wheels would
roll about. In between and on the sides are green grass. We follow
this strange road, passing by a part of Anapog, Catmon, wherein it
becomes unpaved and muddy. A few motorcycles ply this road to pick up
passengers. Twice I saw small Suzuki 4-wheel drive flatbeds, a
Japanese surplus import that became a choice vehicle for farmers and
upland residents. It is cheap, sturdy, low gasoline consumption,
navigates easily on narrow roads and spare parts are common.
By
11:50, we were now in Agsowao, Catmon. We observe noonbreak and munch
on Nutribar. Cold Sparkles complete our rest and rehydration. After
an hour, we proceed to our destination. The road is now paved with
disintegrating asphalt. I did not feel a soreness on any of my feet
even though I am wearing a damp pair of socks and damp shoes. This
would be the last day for the socks and I would change into another
pair tomorrow. A short thread that sew the rubber soles of the Hi-Tec
Lima shoes with the upper nubuck comes loose. Ah, the beginning of
the end.
We
come upon a concrete sign announcing that we are now in Tabili. A
noisy party stopped when they sensed strangers and a drunk party-goer
pretended to befriend us. Asked so many questions and repeating the
same questions over and over again. I know that scene. Better leave
the premises because it is pointless talking to someone who is
suspicious and tipsy. He thinks he is James Bond and we are KGB. I
ignored him but he found Mark a willing listener and we waste more
time there.
It
was farther than I thought, the location of the residence of the
former village chairman, the late Dante Limana. I have nurtured
friendship with him ever since the time I met him here last February
2016 while I was doing the Segment VI Exploration Hike. I came to
know of his death just last month when I visited this same place.
Before he died, we met at the Search and Rescue Summit in Cebu City
last July 2016 and gave him a Seseblade Sinalung knife. It is tragic
on my part because I found him to be a good public servant with a
bright future in politics. He was 36.
His
father-in-law was expecting our arrival today and he is there by the
time we arrive at 14:59. After the usual cordiality, he assigned our
place of rest at the back of the house. There is water and a hearth
and we are under a roof. Maybe tomorrow, I will have my first bath.
There is a young katmon tree that Dante had planted. His
yellow Suzuki Scrum is parked nearby. This small truck carried him
safely to the hospital, driven by his 9-year old son. He was in ICU
but succumbed a few days later.
At
16:00, the supply team arrived. Markus Immer, as always a reliable
fellow, delivered the goods. With him were Ernie Salomon, JB Albano,
Jingaling Campomanes, Locel Navarro, Ronald Abella and Christopher
Ngosiok. They spent three hours with us, emptying a bottle and half
of local brandy, unloading funny tales and controlled laughter. Too
bad, happy times do not last long. Justin, Mark and Mirasol went with
them as they left us at 20:00. The silence was deafening.
We
made our way to the back of the house and distribute the supplies
between us. Part of that is our fuel for the Trangia burners. We got
a lot of Park N Go bread and parted some to Dante’s father-in-law.
We also got more Yakult Cultured Milk and add these to the plastic
bag that I am carrying with my hand since Day Twelve.
We
strung our hammocks but used it only as a mosquito net. No hang time.
It would be cold but I have not felt it yet. Jon begins cooking the
first of the fresh supply of Korean spicy noodles and a hundred grams
of rice. We forgot that we had not taken dinner. The company of noisy
visitors caused that. Anyway, I will have that bath tomorrow.
Distance
Walked: 11.56 kilometers
Elevation
Gained: 559 meters and a low of 234 meters
Document
done in LibreOffice 5.2 Writer
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