ADRENALINE ADVENTURE HIKE: Segment I-B

BUOYED UP BY THE SUCCESS of walking the first half of Segment I last week, the blogging couple of Adrenaline Romance, begins to develop a certain attitude, understanding and toughness necessary to understand how the Cebu Highlands Trail should be walked. Besides that, they begin to get used to my trail habits in such a short time and both felt comfortable with it.

On my side, I have a lot to improve and the presence of Gian Carlo and Sheila Mei last week was a good start. Today – February 24, 2018 – is the second installment of Segment I. We would start where we last left off and it happened to be in a place called Tugop, Babag, Cebu City. It is on the Transcentral Highway, right where a road goes to Bonbon and another road going up Babag Ridge.

We meet at JY Square, Lahug, Cebu City at 06:00 and proceed to Tugop by motorcycles-for-hire. The sky is moody and there is a weather disturbance somewhere east of Cebu. I would not mind rain and mud and cold. What I worry are those bolts of lightning. You cannot be too sure especially when you are on higher elevations and carrying electronic devices.

We arrive at Tugop and begin our journey at 07:05, in a slow pace, following a paved road that goes uphill. The morning is unusually cool and working up a sweat takes some time. We pass by this seldom-taken road and it created a life of its own despite its lonely location. Homestead farms gave way to homestead resorts, sometimes blending the two together.

 

On a point of the winding road, is a view of Mount Sibugay and Mount Pung-ol. Both mountains are the reasons why there is such a village called Pung-ol Sibugay. The higher of the two – Pung-ol (755 meters) – has its peak looking like it had been lopped off which is why it is called that. The second – Sibugay (741 meters) – is forever moving north-northeast towards the sea.

The imposing view also afforded me to study the horizon. Thick black clouds are approaching Mactan Island and obliterating the view of Bohol and Leyte. Soon it would reach the shorelines, plains and lower hills. Probably, in less than an hour, we would be swept by cold headwinds and swamped by heavy downpour. I could sense a slight stress in my brain but my other brain knows better. It says “take it slow”.

We arrive at an intersection of a road and we are now on Babag Ridge. We go south and more uphill walk until we arrive on a store owned by Vicente Bontiel, whom I have known and befriended through so many visits here since 2008. My itinerary says we should be here at 09:00 but our time says it is 08:00. We were not walking fast but were just dilly-dallying. You know what I mean?

Anyway, we stop here to rest and take a light breakfast which Sheila Mei prepared and packed for this occasion. Vicente has a big bamboo gazebo across his store affording a good view of the Sapangdaku Valley, the metropolis and the Bohol Strait. This is a very good location to rest since the store sells cold softdrinks. You could also use their washroom complete with running water.

The rain clouds are now on the city and very soon it would be raining here. I can feel now the cold headwinds blowing, churning up dust on the unpaved road and shaking the trees. We ignored the warning and enjoyed the blessings of a cold drink instead. The food also restored my confidence to lead the Adrenaline Romance pair to this rare adventure of a lifetime.

The CHT cannot be walked without a guide. Only two people know the routes and this can only be possible through their memories. Memory, sometimes, is not sharp and, in my case, always suffered some “senior moments”. Failing memory create mistakes, especially, when stressed. The CHT was not documented with radionavigation devices but by memory. Fortunately, my memory was very good last time.

Fortunately also for me today and tomorrow, I would not be needing my memory. I am in my home turf. We leave the store at 08:20 after covering our backpacks with rain covers. Gian Carlo and Sheila Mae carried Deuters and they moved good with it. They are product ambassadors of Deuter, a good-quality bag which is in everyone’s wish list; and of Se7en Outdoors, a local apparel provider.

Totally confident of moving about in familiar playgrounds, I carried my “SOP” - the name I gave to my folding stool which meant as the “seat of power”, inside my spacious High Sierra Titan. The bag was provided to me by Adrenaline Romance, halfway through my Thruhike of the CHT last January-February 2017. It is like changing from a mutlticab to an SUV. The bag was one of the reasons why I succeeded in my Thruhike.

The pair is wearing CHT t-shirts provided by my sponsor, Silangan Outdoor Equipment. I am wearing a yellow Cebu Mountaineering Society t-shirt in honor of my late mentor and friend, Dr. Abraham Manlawe, who passed away recently. The t-shirt came from him as a gift during the last time we walked a trail together last July 2017. This walk is for Doc Abe.

It started to rain once we approached the upper slopes of Mount Babag. We pass below the peak since it is off-limits now to people due to the presence of government telecommunications tower. We cross a high saddle and proceed to another hill where there is a commercial TV station tower. The rain did not peak up as it was blown off by strong winds. Although there is a light shower but it was cold.

We are now leaving the unpaved road for the trail. A couple of dogs caught our scents and followed us. I have enough of dogs following people so I tried my best to shoo these away and I thought I succeeded there. I did, for one dog. For the other, I failed. Now it is ahead of me and I cannot chase it down. I let it be. For the moment. Sooner it will tire. I hope.

We followed a path beside a fenced property. It goes down and up, sometimes squeezing between barbed wires and thorny bamboos (Local name: kagingkingon). Under a slight shower, I persevered, the dog pranced and jogged ahead of me, daring me to play catch-up. The moment I closed the distance it would sprint ahead and cocked one hind foot to squirt invisible urine on stone or trunk.

By now, we are on the hidden gem of Babag Ridge – its forested trail – lush and remote, it starts from a bare saddle and goes through another hidden feature – a World War II tunnel network – up to a barren mound called Bocawe. The covered trail gave us respite from rain and cold wind. Now you begin to understand why I preferred the treeline over exposed places with those spectacular views.

On the peak of Bocawe, a sea of mists covered the Bonbon River Valley. On the other side, the metropolis air is very clear. The rainclouds had passed over us and are now on the Sudlon Mountain Range across us. The sun is missing but humidity began to build up as the clock ticked to noon. The dog is twitching on its back rubbing against the grass and loving it but keeping one eye on me.

Gian Carlo had been experimenting on Facebook Live since the time we walked away from Tugop. He is rewarded with a couple of comments from his earlier try and a smile broke on his face while dictating to us what was said. Where signal is weak, he saved the video for a late upload. He is now holding his smartphone talking to it while pointing it all over counterclockwise.

We go down the hill and come upon a small pond. Upon this place I saw a human-like creature which I though was an ape. It happened in December 2016. I later realized then that monkeys here have a tail and that strange creature does not have one. Then I realized that the creature hexed me and I walked in circles until I outsmarted it and regained the true trail.

I do not feel dread of the pond. I do not even give importance to what I saw yet I always believe that they exist and it is just a matter of time if I see something similar again. I rarely do but when I see one, I just ignored it. That is it. No hysterics. No fear. Nothing. Leave them be and they leave you alone. I approach the pond and looked closer. There is a path downhill but it was created by water overflow from the pond. It is a brook! I would explore this one day.

Meanwhile, we continue on and follow a trail on scrubby grass. Faint smudges and a few bare patches of ground suggest that it is a path. Sometimes, it projects a different color from the rest of the field. We see fences where there were none before. Farmers placed these to discourage dirt motorcycles from ruining the trails and breaking the serenity of the places. 

We entered a crude gate by removing three sticks blocking the way and returning it back to its place when we got past it. The silence was overwhelming. It blended well with the beauty of the green meadows and the almost-perfect mound-like hills dotting the landscape. Locals call this place as Tagaytay. We leave the greens and entered a path in a small forest where it disgorge us to another path where there is a house.

We were supposed to take noonbreak at Mount Bocawe but we arrive there a bit early even though we were walking really slowly. It amazes me that I am always ahead of the itinerary, a far cry than when I used to in a faster pace. I do not know why? We need to make noonbreak near this house. A lady welcomed us inside her fenced frontyard so Sheila Mei got a good place to prepare our meal.

After lunch, we remained immobile, chasing siesta until it is 13:00. Our campsite would not be faraway. It should be if we were in Mt. Bocawe. Slow is best. No stress and the senses remain sharp. We move on and thanked the woman. Far ahead, I leave a blue plastic with a chocolate bar hanging on a bush in full view of the children looking at us from a window of a house faraway.

Locals are shy and are intimidated or feel discriminated by the affluent look of city people. Bright-colored sporty apparel could cause it, maybe, and, of course, your smartphones and headphones. That is why I prefer wearing clothes with earth-toned colors so you would not cause too much glare to the eyes but, today, I wore something bright. Well, one of those days that I have to honor a dear departed.

 

The path veered to the right and I show Gian Carlo and Sheila Mei a “knife edge” that connect Tagaytay to Mount Samboryo. You do not know it is there until you stop and study both sides closely. Then you become very careful. Samboryo has a life of its own and is full of urban legend tales. I just keep these things in secrecy and focus on the trail.

We reach a farmed hillside and, beyond it, level ground where there are trees would be our campsite. It is very early yet, 14:30, but we cannot change back the itinerary, would we? The blogging couple set up their Luxe dome tent while I did with my hammock and overhead sheet between two trunks. There are slight drops of rain but it is blown away by strong winds. I changed into rubber slippers and sit on the SOP. A liberating feeling.

Sheila Mei and Gian Carlo prepared the meal while I go talk to a farmer, asking his permission to stay near his farm. He offered us water he stocked in his work hut and we thanked him. With additional water, we could wash our dishes and boil coffee. Oh, coffee, I missed you today. I drank one before a meal and another one just before turning in. The last light of the day gave us a very beautiful crimson sunset.

Gian Carlo and Sheila Mei loved their privacy so much and disdained evening chatter and drinking into the night. I shared their preferences and I am most happy of it. I am like a cat. I need lots of sleep to be able to store enough energy for every tomorrow. The rain arrived at 20:00 together with strong winds. I secured my things placed on the ground and went back in the meshed hammock, awake and observant.

The downpour must have lulled around midnight but the winds stayed to shake vigorously the trees and my shelter. There is not much I could do but sleep through it. I am awakened again at dawn by the return of rain and, this time, it was not heavy. But it was an unexpectedly cold night as our campsite does not harbor a micro-climate that we have had enjoyed last weekend.

On the second day – February 25, I decide that the dog must go. I cannot stand of another dog getting transplanted from its home following strangers who it expect may throw morsels of food. After breaking camp, I chased the dog up a trail when it let its guard down. A couple of flying rocks were enough to send the message.

We go down the long pebbly trail to a suspension bridge of Buot, Cebu City. I looked back several times at my backtrail and I am quite satisfied that the dog have made up its mind for good. This day is the last day for the whole Segment I but it is a long way to Lutopan, Toledo City. We follow a paved road beside the Bonbon River until we reach a tributary.

This stream is fast-flowing and wide. I do not know its name and there is a sand-quarrying activity here which is unusual. They usually do that downstream in the bigger Mananga River. I really wanted to know the name of this river. I see an old lady helping a younger woman on a motorcycle, perhaps her daughter. When she was alone I politely asked her the name of the stream. I got a reply: Alpragatì.

I do not name places on my own whims. I take it from locals and not just any local. I prefer the older ones because they are the ones who grew up and toiled in these places. After thanking the old woman, we followed a paved road that goes uphill. It is steep and it was a nightmare for those who walked with me last time here. It is a fact of life for me as I walked it again for another time and, surely so, more of that in the future.

Slowly, without exerting so much effort, we toiled inches by inches, until we come upon the road where there is a water source and a beautiful view of the mountainous landscape – the same mountains that we walked and camped yesterday. The couple cannot believe we covered such a great distance in just a few hours of leisure walking.

Growing oddly among the shrubs is an Indonesian pepper which locals called as “sili’ng demonyo”, because it is so spicy hot. A man on a motorcycle stopped to talk to us. He was asking if we were the same people whom he saw yesterday at Tugop. We three answered him in unison that we were. He shook in disbelief that we covered so great a distance. He on a motorcycle and we on foot.

We reach Udlom, Sinsin, Cebu City and followed another paved road that exits to Manipis, Talisay City. From there, we walked a short distance and we are now in Camp 7, Minglanilla. We walk the rest of the morning, stopping by at Cantabaco, Toledo City to eat lunch in a family-run small restaurant. After that, we walk and walk until we reach Lutopan at 14:00 where we ride in a bus bound for Cebu City.

On two weekend dates, Gian Carlo and Sheila Mei of Adrenaline Romance Blog completed Segment I of the CHT. I estimate we may have walked a total of 52-56 kilometers over the most rugged and seldom-seen parts of Cebu. The walk of today and yesterday pales in comparison though to the ones we did last weekend and that one have only been tried by just a few. It is already an accomplishment for both.

Nevertheless, Segment I is just part of the bigger picture called the Cebu Highlands Trail and there are seven segments more. I believe Team Adrenaline Romance can overcome it and make one bucket list fulfilled. I could see they are more comfortable with the pace I churned and, vice versa, it had benefitted me. I think a lot when I am on a trail and follow the drift of moving, that sometimes I unintentionally walk fast. Slow is Best. 

Gian Carlo and Sheila Mei wrote about their Segment I-B experience on their Adrenaline Romance Blog under two installments:

Cebu Highlands Trail Segment 1B: Tugop to Mt. Samboryo
Cebu Highlands Trail Segment 1B: Mt. Samboryo to Lutopan

Photos courtesy of Adrenaline Romance

Document done in LibreOffice 5.3 Writer

THE THRUHIKE JOURNAL: Day 11 (Buot to Guadalupe)

I COULD NOT HAVE BEEN more happy today, January 27, 2017. It is because this is the day when I would put the southern leg of the Thruhike behind me. It is also home ground for me. Day Eleven promises to be something worth cherishing because, at the end of this day’s journey, I will be home. Who would not be? I aim to snare that two days rest incentive before proceeding on the northern leg. That two days rest would be good enough to check on the loose ends of my planning and preparations for the remainder of the Thruhike.

The two policemen from the Mabolo Police Station who have spent an overnight watch over us are leaving early to make their report to headquarters and to enjoy a well-deserved day off. I felt very grateful of this gesture and my thanks to them as well as to their superiors. Jonathaniel Apurado is making the breakfast soup as inviting as ever by adding shreds of spicy squid and cooking another fare of chorizo Bilbao. Washed it all with coffee and my last bottle of Yakult Cultured Milk.

After checking on my blisters, we packed our things as orderly as we had done many times before and made ready for downstairs to say thanks to the people of Buot, Cebu City, who had been a kind host for us. The sun had risen and warm but it is blotted out by Mount Samboryo and the Babag Mountain Range. We crossed the hanging bridge which spanned over the Bonbon River at 08:15 onto the other side. We follow a very very rough road until we reach a landmark and transferred to a trail.

We passed by a water source and filled full our water bottles. We will not cook meals anymore but we just want to ensure that we have adequate water to rehydrate. It is just insurance since I am planning of lightening up our loads by giving away our food along the way. The excitement of walking on my playground and of going home raised my adrenaline a bit and I have to control the mind lest I would break down midway. The trail goes up and up over places where you would not meet people.

I did meet people. A woman and his young son are going down to a school in Buot. The boy is already late for the morning session or maybe too early for the afternoon. Life to someone living on the hinterlands is really hard. The boy has to learn it the hard way, walking far to school and back to home, sometimes on an empty stomach. Most of the time, it rains, making it harder still to get that education. Some of these kids do not finish elementary and became what their parents were: marry young and rear many children.

Life is really unfair. We have these kids in the city pampered by their parents and who could not do things on their own. These kids took for granted electricity, tap water, instant food on the table, constant attention and good roads. They have the Internet and the malls to keep them entertained and allowance money to spend. I have a soft spot in my heart for folks living on the mountains. The Cebu Highlands Trail is designed to give them opportunity to meet people and tourists and nurture friendship and to widen their knowledge of the world that they do not know. This Thruhike is for them.

I am now over the obstacle called Mt. Samboryo and a saddle entices me to take a trail on a knife edge which do not appear to be one. Then there is a wide meadow where there is a lone house. The view is so breathtaking but my attention is only to a family living there. It seems the woman reared her three young girls all by herself. We left them our remaining food supply like rice, coffee, chocolate drinks, powdered juice, bread, biscuits, chorizo Bilbao, dried squids, Knorr soups, soy sauce, cooking oil, vinegar and our goodwill. My bag is strangely light now yet it really was charity and kindness which made it lighter.

She had remembered me from last December where me and some friends left chocolate bars and biscuits for her and her three girls so they will enjoy the spirit of Christmas, which is as alien as ET for folks like her who are in dire poverty. I know how it felt with an empty stomach everyday waiting for food to drop from out of the sky. In fact, she and her children were foraging for food among the deepest thickets when I came today. The woman was most grateful and my heart wept for I could do nothing more.

I am grateful too for Derek Manuel of Derek’s Classic Blade Exchange, Aljew Frasco of Titay’s Liloan Rosquillos, Atty. Jose Mari Gochanco of GV Tower Hotel, Lester Padriga, Juliet Molina, Adolfo Olmedo, Percival Espina, Atty. Bruce Ragas, Emerson Benoza, Gian Carlo Jubela and Sheila Mei Abellanosa of Adrenaline Romance, Wilma Rellora, Alvin John Osmeña, and the Camp Red Bushcraft and Survival Guild, for opening up their purses so I could pursue this Thruhike with Doc Jon and to finance the food, fuel and other expenses needed. Without these fine gentlemen and ladies, I could not have shared something to our poorest brethren living in unimaginable circumstances.

This Thruhike, I began to discover, is an interesting and enriching experience. It is a pilgrimage of the heart and the spirit. My mind goes empty of worldly ideas and things and focuses only on the scenes at hand and on the people I met. There is so much to learn from what you see and hear along the route as much as people try to learn something from you. The silence of the hills is simply marvellous right at its wildest and emptiest stretches. This is what I experienced on the southern leg. The other half might be different or it might be more than that. I do not know but it remains to be seen soon.

The trail wove among hills and swidden farms until we came upon an experiment of man that was abandoned – a narrow rough road obliterated almost by rock falls. This road tries to wiggle its way to the other side of the mountain range but nature is, most of the time, a hard fellow to please. We follow it downhill, cross a stream that became wild just recently, walk more downhill and cross another stream. Across me is concrete pavement. I am now in a place called Bokawe, a part of Pamutan, Cebu City.

The endless rises of the road under the brunt of a sun approaching its highest zenith takes away your enthusiasm. I just place my concentration on the sound of my footfalls and take a quick peek every now and then of what goes ahead and around you. Dogs, as what we encountered before, do not like smelly and sweaty strangers. They barked with contempt at you and follow a few inches behind you until you could not take it anymore and feint to pick up a pebble and they would instantly leave you alone.

When I saw the last rise of the road, my last of the myriad of worries are almost over. It would all be downhill and easy. We arrive at a junction called Bagsakan, still a part of Pamutan, at exactly 12:00 and I called in rest. There is a store selling cold Sparkle and cooked food. I should have left my last energy bar to the girls if I know I could eat lunch here. We did not know that the village chairman of Pamutan, Ronaldo Labitad, was expecting us. It was not difficult for him to spot us. His guess was right: sweaty and smelly guys wearing blue CHT jerseys with big backpacks.

Just as were were talking with him, a policeman from the Guadalupe Police Station arrived on a motorcycle. PO1 Gerald Ytom knew me instantly the moment he laid eyes on me, not because I was the one they were assigned to watch over but because I was his superior when he was working with a security agency that I was tasked to oversee by the owners. He was happy to see me jobless now but I am most happy that he is now a public servant, a peacekeeper. I taught him well in my monthly meetings and that made a big difference. I am proud of his present standing in life.

At 13:00, we have to go down the road to Baksan, part of Sapangdaku, Cebu City. PO1 Ytom rode ahead of us and back and so forth. Other cops joined him when we reach Baksan at 14:30. By now, they could do nothing more as I will be switching on a trail that goes all the way to Guadalupe, Cebu City. Their motorcycles are only good on roads. The silence of the trails is most welcome again at hours were you would not meet people. Before doing that, I part away my trail mix of nuts, coated chocolates, marshmallows and raisins to a group of children and you should see their happy faces.

The trail is very much familiar to me. I discovered this in 2009 and I enjoyed its pristine solitude. It is a forest really but you would not know it because it is blocked by the Banawa Hills if you happen to be standing on any street of Metro Cebu. This part is very shady with many fruit-bearing trees growing. Today I saw no fruit but it have started to flower. The route goes out to a bare hill and passes a World War II tunnel and a steel power pylon before it goes down to a street.

We reach finally the Our Lady of Guadalupe Parish at 15:40. I genuflected before the wide doors of the church and said my thanks to Providence. A few seconds after, Markus Immer of the Supply Team came with his Toyota Hilux to pick us up. First, we have to celebrate with toasts of the coldest beer. I missed the cold beer which I denied many times along the route where it was available. The first bottle became a second bottle and it is now late in the afternoon.

During the interim of our celebration, Doc Jon proposed to me to have photos of me and him right on the front steps of the Cebu Provincial Capitol, the seat of the Cebu Provincial Government. We have to wear again our sweaty CHT jerseys and the great backpacks and stood side by side a road marker which says “Kilometer 0” before a busy street where commuters look amused at our sweaty and burdened appearance. We have taken the southern leg and we are entitled to that two days rest.

Distance Walked: 13.7 kilometers

Elevation Gained: 571 meters and a low of 57 meters

Document done in LibreOffice 5.2 Writer