A MOUNT NAUPA STORY: Second Visit

I RECEIVED A TEXT MESSAGE from someone I do not know asking for a guide. Of course, I always receive the same kind of messages and they are regular, sometimes annoying, but I have to reply, nevertheless, even if they do not push through at the last minute. But this one is a bit different. They are very insistent to visit Mount Naupa. The peak is found in Naga City, Cebu and it is not on my usual haunts. I camped there once though upon an invitation back in April 2012.

We settled on a date – it is to be an overnight – on February 10 and 11, 2018; and agreed on my professional fee. My asking price depends on the difficulty of the terrain (it is easy – 2/9), the length of walk (a kilometer maybe) and the number of individuals (31 – too many). Doing the math I come up to something less than what you would have expected. Believe me, it is LESS. Since it is a massive climb, I have to have an assistant and I settled on Christopher Ngosiok.

I do not mind parting a considerable amount from my fee for an assistant. What I am after is satisfaction of a client by providing them good service, to include their security and safety. Christopher is one of the best assistants I know. He is a registered nurse and knows everything from self-defense to wilderness first aid to bushcraft and survival, even blogging. Yes. We do maintain blogs because we have tales to tell. Real tales and not some fancy K-Pop contents.

This is one of those times where I have to look the other way when it comes to managing and guiding people up a mountain. As I said before, this is a “massive” climb. There are 31 individuals plus Christopher and me. The most I would do in ordinary circumstances is lead not more than ten people. The trail to Mt. Naupa, however, is a well-beaten path. Besides, it passes a quarry site that got overgrown with vegetation.

Despite that, Naupa is still a very popular destination for weekend campers. Locals take advantage of the numbers by selling food and beverage, perform some kind of service (fetching water), or exact disturbance fees when passing by their properties. I would not mind if our presence improved their life economically. Let them be. After all, they appreciate your visit and help made their living worthwhile.

We arrive at the trailhead a little after 15:00 on the first day (February 10). I am not familiar of the trails here since the first and last time I was here, I was walking in darkness. Darkness as in no flashlight. That is my signature. However, the trail is easy to follow as it winds among the hillsides and going up to a community where there is shade. I was assured that the participants were briefed properly of what to expect today.

All the hikers worked in one business process outsourcing company and I believed it is a company-sanctioned activity. “Team building”, as some would call it. I do not know what is inside BPO company operations nor have I any idea how people worked inside that same environment. But I do know that these people needed some outlet to let go of stress since BPOs operate, most of the time, on a graveyard shift.

The last stretch is a bit steep but it is very manageable. We pass by a fenced house and there is a log book to register the names of visitors. They also require you to pay a fee of some sort because you are passing by their property and so have disturbed their landscape and their serenity.  Beyond is the trail to the campsite. Two enterprising locals lets you choose either of their own staked grounds.

 

Both campsites are exposed and have no forest cover. I discouraged their leader of camping on a high ground and so we choose the lower of the two. We do not need a high location to ogle at exhilarating scenery. What we need is the least exposed ground so the campers can be comfortable. It is cold out here during nighttime, mind you. Everyone set up their tents. Good!

I looked for my own location and found one beside the only tree that was left to grow here, although a bit stunted. I used the trunk as anchor for a shelter ridgeline that goes to an upright stick that was held taut by the line to a buried peg. It is a textbook ground-hugging simple shelter designed to offer less obstruction to the howling winds that would come later at midnight.

Foraged dry firewood along the extremities of the camp grounds. I would not worry about the wind on my fire. I would make one inside a Swiss Army wood burner. A very efficient equipment, I would boil water for my customary afternoon coffee and, later, for my meal of Japanese miso soup. I paired the soup with bread provided by Christopher as I joined him near his tent.

The campers cooked food after dusk. The evening wind goes colder now and the warm food helped to stave off the slight chill. At 19:00, their leader called everyone and they begin to form a circle. A team-building activity began to unravel and the company was very lively and sounds of laughter began to dominate the circle. I kept a distance to give them privacy.

While I was talking to a storeowner, I noticed many locals coming over the hill on the back of us. I learned that another set of campers are staking a campsite on a faraway mountain across us found in Lanas. I also learned that the campers were doing a medical-dental mission and all the village peacekeepers here were detailed there leaving none to watch over us.

I noticed earlier that children were roaming on our campsite and they were still here at such late hours while a new set of campers arrive after dusk. These were locals who are on an excursion of their own. This one is livelier than ours and they have bottles of local brandy with them. They even carried a portable sound system and making so much noise with that unpalatable “budot” music which they danced with so much feeling.

My campers might have noticed that these newcomers are beginning to get rowdier by the minute that they started to disperse and made their way into their tents. I watch over this group, not in any way entertained but observing with utmost vigilance. They camped about five meters away from our farthest tent and their bad drunken behaviour might cause friction from our side. Their distasteful music already had. Budot! I hate that sound.

Christopher was also in a vigilant mood, watching these drunken locals from beside his tent. The clock ticked at 21:00 and it is getting colder and I need to be away from the wind for a while. My shelter offered no resistance from the cold but it shielded me from wind chill, which is good enough. I may not chase a good sleep in this setup but it is enough to keep me half-awake to keep tab on that rowdy crowd.

As I go back to the store, I noticed some children sleeping out with nothing to protect them. I asked them why are they here and they said they were from Lanas going with the older ones to that other campsite on another mountain. More locals came but they just pass through on their way to that other campsite. The spectacle of tents and camping are already a big thing with these children and is a form of entertainment for them.

The noisy locals ran out of brandy but they buy more from the two stores on the campsites, this time rum. I just watch them and praying and hoping that they would tire out. The more I do that, the more intense their revelry without any consideration to other people trying their hardest best to sleep through their mayhem. Budot music, who the hell likes that? Good God tell me, please.

Seeing my futility to hear them subside, I go back to my shelter at 22:30. Staying out on the cold without a jacket was just too much. Although I have my own flat bottle of rum from the store to warm me up, I do not intend to add another bottle just to keep me on this idiotic vigil. My shelter was most welcome when I finally lay down on the thin laminated sheet that I used as a ground sheet and a ground-beholden hammock as another layer.

 

I awoke an hour after midnight and I could still hear that foolish music and people talking in toned down voices. The latter were the campers I accompanied and a few of them were still awake. The dancing devils are still alive burning with their dervish music laughing and merry unmindful of other people trying to chase sleep. These people I am with worked in times when you are happily snoring and they deserve their rest.

I tried to catch sleep once more but I could not. It is so cold. Fogs have clasped the campsite in its grip and breathing in colder air melted away my resistance to cold. Even as I wear my shoes lying down with a cloth covering my head and ears. I lapse into unconsciousness once in a while but waking up now and then shivering. I thought I missed something during those moments. Budot was gone. Good riddance!

 

I wake up on the second day – February 11. The campsite is still asleep. I stoked a fire one more time in my Swiss Army wood burner. Boiled water for coffee and, later, for Japanese miso soup. Warming up and making subtle noises, I successfully awakened half the campsite. Sounds of zippers reveal poking sleepy heads into daylight. They asked me to lead them to the peak.

We follow a trail over a bare grassy saddle and up to a still forested ridge that goes steep over rocky paths. Ah, the view that matters most to all: Sunrise and “sea of clouds”. I doubt at the latter but it was there an hour ago when they were all asleep. Sunrise really mattered most and the warmth that came with it. It is a blessing after a long cold night and budot music.

 

After breakfast, we break camp and started downhill. Our noisy neighbors were very quiet. In an hour, the campsite would be scorching hot for want of a tree. Good luck to them. They need that. That would be the best time to play their unintelligible music and sweat it out. We arrive at the trailhead and motorcycles are waiting for us. I let the campers go first but making sure they are properly seated.

Christopher and I were the last to arrive at Tungkop, Minglanilla and everyone are all accounted for and safe. The hikers are quite satisfied with their weekend experience even with that annoying budot music. That kind of music associated with drunkenness is not welcome in my playground. Then we all take a KMK Transit bus bound for Cebu City.  

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