Sunday, October 1, 2017

THE THRUHIKE JOURNAL: Days 24 and 25 (Malingin to Bakhawan)

DAY TWENTY-FOUR ::::: WHEN I ARRIVED HERE YESTERDAY, I felt it was the sweetest moment of the Thruhike. I have walked over the last and the most difficult physical obstacle of the Cebu Highlands Trail – the Doce Cuartos Mountain Range in Tabogon. Here in Malingin, Bogo City, the high-octane stress and dread of the past 23 days are now beginning to lose its hold on me. There are now just four days left to finish this journey. I drank a warm Swiss Miss in a metal saucer to celebrate this milestone today, February 11, 2017.

In a little while, Day Twenty-four will roll towards another sunset. While I am beginning to feel light on both load and emotions, the idea of walking on the plains of Bogo City and Medellin is not a walk in the park either, especially on the latter. We will be treading mostly on a national highway that is straight as an arrow on some stretches which are almost devoid of shade. I gave up my breakfast of Knorr soup and rice after three spoonfuls and accept the parmesan cheese and wheat bread that were offered by Markus Immer. 

 
Markus, friend and benefactor and staunch supporter of the Thruhike, had extraordinarily delivered our supplies earlier than what was agreed at five different occasions. Not because he is Swiss, and the Swiss are very exacting when it comes to time, but because “he always has five minutes more time than the next guy”. That is his maxim and that is why he is extremely reliable. But on those five occasions, I beat him by an average of 20 minutes. I have my reasons why I arrived earlier than the supply run. One of these is that I planned this Thruhike as if I am engaging in a war campaign!

It is his wish and personal request to join me and Jonathaniel Apurado for the last stretch of the northern leg. He will have that slot and he will celebrate with us when we reach the end of this long journey on the northernmost point of Cebu, a handful of days from now. Still walking with us is Leomil Pino, who had been tagging for the past two days. But another fresh set of legs, Glyn Formentera, will be along for the dayhike just like he did on Day Five of the southern leg.

The Hon. Marilyn Calidguid and his councilman son, Darwin, both of Malingin village, sent us off at 08:00. Weather is warm and sunny. Not a good combination on the plains. We stop to honor the flag when the national anthem was sung at the Malingin Elementary School. Today, we will follow the old railway from here to Don Pedro Rodriguez, Bogo City. The paths are still there but the sleepers, the stays and the iron rails are no more. The path is now dirt which pass by fields planted with sugar cane on both sides.


This old railway was very relevant and useful during the years when sugar prices were booming in the ‘50s and the ‘60s, even up to the early ‘70s. This was the main artery that fueled the economy of the sugar producing towns of Bogo, Medellin, Daanbantayan, San Remigio, Tabogon and Borbon. The engines with their wagons brought the canes from the fields to the lone processing plant in Medellin, converted to molasses and were exported.

 
It is now a ghost of its old self. The skeletons now adorned somebody’s lawn like I saw in Malingin. But in the USA, they converted old and condemned rail lines into trails for tourism. One particular spot is the Katy Trail, named after the Missouri-Kansas-Texas Railroad which stopped operation in 1986, is very popular for biking, hiking and handicapped-use rails-to-trails project. It is 300 kilometers long. How I wished Bogo City and Medellin sees the wisdom of this purpose and develop it for leisure outdoor tourism.

The fields are still planted with sugar canes with contract farmers doing the backbreaking work of planting, weeding, watering and harvesting. Part of the trail is planted with corn and the path goes through among stalks. A remnant of the old railway, stone buttresses that support a missing bridge over a small stream, remained. The former railroad are presently used to accommodate farm machinery and trucks. It is a good place to hike. There is abundant breeze coming from the north and the air is mild.


The old railroad goes its way through the plains and it intersects, for a time, a line of steel towers bringing in electricity from Leyte to power Cebu’s ravenous industries. We passed by the new administrative capital of Bogo City and I believed they are developing and leasing these lands for commerce and industry. Ever since it became a city in 2002, it begun to allocate land to accommodate its expected expansion. This small city has so much land area and many unused spaces. It has its own wharf but is also accessible to another bigger port in nearby San Remigio.                                                                                               

Unfortunately, somebody squatted on the right-of-way of the old railroad that would have brought us direct to the national highway, now known as the Central Philippines Nautical Highway. We have to detour to a small path to this highway in Don Pedro Rodriguez. Two hundred meters away is a crossroad where there is a very popular restaurant. We stop by here at 09:40 to rest from the unrelenting rays of the sun and rehydrate on cold beverages. Since I had a light breakfast, I have to open up one of my Fitbars for insurance.

After ten minutes, we are on our way again. I sent a text message to the Medellin Police Station to let them know of our passage through their area. The torment of the long walk along the concrete-topped and shadeless highway begins. At 10:05, we reach the Dayhagon Bridge. Underneath it is the Dayhagon Canal which separates Bogo City from Medellin. I have walked this less-known man-made canal last April 29, 2015, during low tide, from Hagnaya Port, San Remigio to Polambato Port, Bogo City, a distance of 11 kilometers. It was the stuff of adventures for I was alone and it was well-documented.

 
The sun was really unrelenting. Imagine a highway where there are no shades? What were planted on both sides are bougainvilleas, as unwelcoming as the highway to foot traffic with its thorns. There used to be trees here but Typhoon Yolanda (Haiyan) made short work of it. The highway danced and shimmered from the heat waves as if you are walking on a desert. Only fools like us walk this very long stretch at this time of day. By 12:30, we arrive at an oasis-like setting on the village of Curva, Medellin for our noonbreak. It is another crossroad with a bakery and lots of cold beverages. Light meals of bread, Nutribar and a capsule of Herbalife natural raw Guarana as supplement.

I studied my maps of the surrounding areas. These are mere reproductions that I screen printed from the Project Noah website, now mothballed, enlarged to fit in short-sized bond papers and protected inside my Sea Line map case. I have to improvise because government maps are utterly outdated. These can be oriented with a compass like you are using a real map. I am not going to take the old route which I used during the Segment VII Exploration Hike last August 2016. I aim to walk up the Panugnawan Hills and cross the wide valley to Bakhawan, Daanbantayan.

After an hour, we resumed our journey. We take the middle road. It goes up its way dictated by the heights of the Panugnawan Hills. At least, here, there are shades. Pressed from behind by Leomil and Glyn, I increased the pace. I do not know how I got a lot of power but, I believed, the daily intake of multivitamins and Guarana extract have made its effect on my performance. I have never felt something like this before because I have never tried one. Since it was provided to me and Jon by Markus on one set and by Mirasol Lepon of Herbalife on the other, I decide to make the most of it.

As I walked the whole stretch of the Panugnawan Hills, I scanned paths that go down that wide valley. I studied the terrain well and waited for the right moment. When I reach a chapel and a dirt road beside it, I have to decide at that instant else it would be another story. Making the right decisions when doing terrain analysis on an exploration that doubled as a Thruhike is very important. You just have one chance and there are no alternatives. It is a make or break affair. I scan the farthest reaches of this valley and something inside of me favored this path. We walk down the wide valley.

The dirt road weave its way among fields devoted for sugar canes and dotted with coconuts planted along the edges. Some fields are bare, some are full and healthy, while some are littered with dried leaves and shrivelled trunks. There is a community halfway and someone said we are in the village of Dalingding Sur, Medellin. This primitive road goes up and sugar canes are now tall and healthy, depriving my field of vision. Worse, paths crossing each other are now common. Would I go down right, go up on my left or should I go straight ahead?

I was right all the time with my choices. I came upon a hump and I saw another valley. I realized I am standing above the Dalingding Hills, a low range of mountains that run between Caputatan Norte, Medellin to Dalingding, Daanbantayan and parallels the Panugnawan Hills. Across me are the familiar hills which I have once passed last year going to the north of Cebu. Behind it would be Bakhawan and safe refuge.

 
For another hour we navigate another valley planted with the same sugar canes and finally arrive at a road corner located on a mountain pass of the Pangadlawan Hills. This road goes to a national highway by the coastline. We are now in Daanbantayan. Another hour more and we will be knocking on the doors of our host, Bakhawan Beach Home. My muscles are aching. My bones are creaking. My soles begins to go tender. The dirt road is rocky but we will have rest at the end of this.

We overtook two locals who I thought were men. Both of them were carrying bundles of long firewood above their heads and they were women. One is middle aged and the other must be sixty. My God, they were strong! I offered to carry their firewood for them but they declined. Their husbands are working in Metro Cebu and goes home every weekend. They are left to fend their children for the rest of the week and gathering firewood is one of the tasks to survive day in and day out. When they were done with that, they went back to carry another set of firewood!

When I arrive at the gate of Bakhawan Beach Home at 16:50, Doming the caretaker was already expecting us, smiling. I shook his hands and we all entered the spacious beach resort which is composed of two structures: Balay No. 1 and Balay No. 2. Lani Perez, the proprietress, assigned the second home to us. She is a long-time friend and is a supporter of my Thruhike as well as my exploration of the Cebu Highlands Trail which I completed last November. She also hosted my Exploration Team when we passed by here in August 2016.

I slumped on a wooden divan and closed my eyes after a tiring hike. Everybody were relieved. Doming had already cooled a case of one-liter bottles of beer in the ref. I was so thirsty that beer tastes like water and two bottles disappeared fast. I just sat there and enjoying the rest as the sun sets beyond the horizon. Oh, one more task to make. I sent a text message to the Daanbantayan Police Station to inform them that we are now in Bakhawan. I got a prompt reply. Only a few police stations reply. Most of them never ever cared or that their numbers are dead.

 
The Hon. Lucia Eleptica of the village of Bakhawan came when she heard news of our coming. We were welcomed to stay at Bakhawan and she promised a free-rein chicken for our dinner. It was the best that she could offer since we were already taken cared of inside the Bakhawan Beach Home. I gave my sincerest thanks to her and we are again left to the soothing sounds of the waves amidst the soft scarlet hues that colored the skies as the fiery orb goes its way westward.

We will have guests coming and they are all from the Camp Red Bushcraft and Survival Guild, a club that I founded. They arrived at 18:30 and they are Ronald Abella and his son, Christian Jacob, and the couple Mark and Mirasol Lepon. I am expecting another guest, a common friend between Lani and me – Bebut Estillore. He came at around 19:30 together with Lani. With everyone present, a grand dinner, courtesy of Bakhawan Beach Home, entice everyone to sit around the long table that Lani had acquired from the long houses of Papua New Guinea.

I checked in early and claimed the second room of Balay No. 2 to myself. The soft bed is good for two people and the extra space allowed me more room to roll from side to side unhindered. The sea is at low tide so I have no other recourse to freshen up except in the bathroom. The cold water trickling down from the overhead shower gave a wonderful feeling. It soothed worn out nerves that have been forged for the last 24 days by heat, dust, grime, cold, rain, thirst, hunger and heavy loads. After almost a half hour under the shower, the soft bed simply whisked me to Lady Starlight.

Distance Walked: 27.69 kilometers
Elevation Gained: 110 meters and a low of 3 meters

DAY TWENTY-FIVE ::::: THE ECSTASY OF A GOOD NIGHT’S sleep on a soft bed and knowing that you would do nothing gruelling for today is a heavenly feeling. And what good fortune and timely occasion when you have the place all to yourself – by the beach. The soothing sound of waves roll into your consciousness as your nerves get smoothed by the unending flow of cool breeze under a shade. The Thruhike is not all sun and grime, it deserves a break and Bakhawan Beach Home is the perfect place to be in for that affair.

I woke up at 07:00 and found the balcony abandoned. Last night’s party left an almost-full bottle of local brandy, empty bottles, empty cups and cups with stagnant brandy, peanuts and empty saucers, Nalgene bottles, LED lights, knives and bags. The two divans are all occupied and I see a hammock, back almost kissing the floor. I see a white head jutting out from a sleeping bag laid on the floor. The sea have receded far and exposed the tidal flats. From a distance, a small yellow boat is floating offshore. Today is February 12, 2017 and this day is reserved for rest and recreation.

 
Slowly, some absent occupants of Balay No. 2 begins to rise from their warm beds. Jonathaniel Apurado and Markus Immer come to life. Then a couple of guys with reddish zombie eyes stirred. Ah, the party people. Leomil Pino and Glyn Formentera, two of my guests who walked with us yesterday, shook off their sleepy heads and starts to get busy doing nothing. The tidal flats got their attention. Lani Perez, the owner of Bakhawan Beach Home was already up. She is busy talking to Doming, the beach caretaker. I smell food! Bebut Estillore joins us.

Bebut, my tormentor and drinking buddy of 20 plus years ago. He laughs his patented laugh which sounds like a hyena smelling something to eat. The laughter, it gets on your nerves when you are at the losing end of a friendly repartee. That is Bebut and he is one of my best friends and he is the godfather of my youngest son. We are kumpare but we do not call each other that. We call each other “Magua”, the anti-hero of the Last of the Mohicans. He brought special ground coffee from Bukidnon and, oh God, it tastes and smells heavenly!

More party people, Ronald Abella and Mark Lepon, joined their brethren on the wet sand. Mirasol, the better half of Mark, and Christian Jacob Abella, were the last to rise. No, they were not part of the night revelers. They are normal people who observe normal sleeping hours like me, Jon and Markus. Slowly the surf begins to reach back towards the beach. High tide would be at 16:29. I keep track of these little things which are found on my itinerary. Slowly, the long table gets filled with seafood galore. Fish soup, grilled squid and dried fish, and complemented with sunny side up fried egg.

 
I opt to have that Bukidnon coffee again after the meal. It is nice to just sit down and talk with Bebut, Lani and Markus slurping warm coffee with the cool breeze blowing. Slowly the small yellow boat approached the shore. Doming carried an empty pail to meet the two fishermen. The boat is half-carried and half-dragged up the sand into drier land. The three men slowly removed the net from the boat’s hold and dragged its end six meters away to be cleaned of debris, weeds and catch. Lani, Bebut and Markus joined Doming and the fishermen, then the rest of the guys offered their hands for the harvest.

The collective effort produced a half-filled bucket of fish, crabs, shrimps, squids and edible kelp. The sight of the catch is enough to send my gastric juices boiling. Unknown to us, the sea crawled slowly up the shore. Even though the sea level will reach its highest at four, I decide to take a bath on the open sea. I waded offshore for about 200 meters before I reached chest level. Fifty meters away are the reefs that clashed with the white capped surf. Swimming in ideal conditions of a warm day and crystal-clear water where you could see bottom. The tides begun its work clearly where I frolicked as the current sweep floating debris northward out of the TaƱon Strait.

The warmth of the sun on my shoulders and the warmth of the water below me is a good combination of a well-appreciated idea of relaxation. It is therapeutic even. Floating on the surface removes that everyday presence of gravity. I think I have stayed long enough which is just about fair. I waded back to shore where waterline are at a level of a few inches higher than when I did an hour ago. Time to hit the shower to remove the salt from my hide and my elastic undershorts. Then the call to meals. Wow!

After the sumptuous lunch, the unfinished bottle of brandy became the object of desire. Packs of peanuts and fried corn are mixed in the fray. The party continues and laughter and jokes put the company fixed on the table on the view deck. The hours became a blur of creeping shadows that expose and hide all that were hidden and bare. Most of the guys took to the call of the risen tide but I have been there a few hours ago and the invite of a cool room is much desired. The soft cool bed under the beat of an old ceiling fan pushed me to dreamland.

 
When I regained awareness, the day have reached its moment when it gave in to the law of nature. Sunset is but a half hour away and the banter of the company I left for the comforts of an afternoon nap transforms into a melancholic and subdued silence. Everyone knows that we would all part on the first hours of daylight and those that would be left could have wished they have free time to walk with us for the rest of the Thruhike. Dinner comes and the voices goes up in a high crescendo once again but not like before.

There are cold bottles of beer but the eagerness of turning it upside down empty are not there anymore. It is a silent gathering, almost strange, and the silence seems to strangle the words from flowing out. I have a long day ahead of me and I turn in early inside the same bed I slept on. The worrying are no longer there but the early signs of rapture starts to boil inside of me. This kept me from drowsing for two hours or more. It is the same as those of anxiety moments that appeared prematurely hours ahead. There is the toilet to flush what it impose on the body though so, Good night.
  
Distance Walked: 0.0 kilometer
Elevation Gained: 3 meters and a low of 0 meter

Document done in LibreOffice 5.2 Writer

No comments: