THE THRUHIKE JOURNAL: Day 27 (Lanao to Bulalaque Point)

BEFORE I UNROLL THE LAST TALE of adventure which hound Day Twenty-Seven of this first-ever Thruhike of Cebu, let me first acknowledge the people and the establishments that had put their faith in me and my team. They are mentioned from time to time in like articles and in Facebook. For the last time, they will have their worthy participation in the completion of the Cebu Highlands Trail and the ensuing Thruhike noted below:

DEREK’S CLASSIC BLADE EXCHANGE

TITAY’S LILOAN ROSQUILLOS & NATIVE DELICACIES

GV TOWER HOTEL PHILIPPINES

SILANGAN OUTDOOR EQUIPMENT

GALILEO SATELLITE CONTROL SYSTEMS-PHILIPPINES

BAKHAWAN BEACH HOME

GOV. HILARIO DAVIDE III & PROVINCE OF CEBU

SUGBU TURISMO (PROVINCIAL TOURISM OFFICE)

ADRENALINE ROMANCE BLOG

PARK N GO BAKESHOP

VIAJERO OUTDOOR CENTRE

LAVILLES FAMILY OF AUSTRALIA

FRONTGATE BURGER RESTOBAR

VERSA TWO-WAY RADIOS

APP OPS PHILIPPINES

HAM RADIO CEBU

CAMP RED BUSHCRAFT & SURVIVAL GUILD

•     MR. ALVIN JOHN OSMEÑA

•     MS. JULIET MOLINA

•     MR. NIÑO PAUL BERIALES

•     MR. PERCIVAL ESPINA

•     PACING’S HOUSE OF BARBECUE

•     VEN GOING PLACES STORIES BLOG

•     MR. MICHAEL SCHWARZ

•     MS. WILMA RELLORA

•     MR. RANDY SALAZAR

•     MR. MARKUS IMMER

•     MR. LESTER PADRIGA

•     MR. ADOLFO OLMEDO

•     MR. RONALD ABELLA

•     MS. LOCEL NAVARRO

•     ATTY. BRUCE RAGAS

•     MR. JOAQUIN GOCHOCO

•     MR. EMERSON BENOZA

•     MR. GLEN DOMINGO

•     MR. HAROLD BUTANAS

•     TACTICAL SECURITY AGENCY

•     MR. ALAN POOLE

•     SHOESTRING XAYD BLOG

•     MS. MIRASOL LEPON

MS. DIOCEL HINAY

•     QUIJANO FAMILY

•     MR. JEROME TIBON

•     MR. ROMMEL MESIAS

•     MR. JONATHAN BLANES

•     MR. MELO SANCHEZ

•     MS. AMAYA MONTECALVO

•     MR. JEREMIAH DAYTO

•     DRINOX KITCHEN

•     MR. GLENN PESTAÑO

•     MR. MATTHEW DE LEON

•     THE KNIFEMAKER

•     SESEBLADES

•     MR. MARC IVAN DE EGURROLA

•     ZUE FASHION

•     MS. LAILA MANTOS-ABADINGO

My apologies for any omission that I might have made but let me take this occasion to cite the following brave individuals who comprised my CHT Exploration Team, namely: JONATHANIEL APURADO, JUSTIN APURADO, JOVAHN YBAÑEZ and late addition FRITZ BUSTAMANTE; and my Base Support Crew in JHURDS NEO and CHAD BACOLOD. They were all there on their own accord, offering their time, intellect, skills, muscles and naked enthusiasm for a place under the sun.

This citation also goes to another set of individuals who were in earlier explorations with me on the first two segments of the CHT like ERNESTO SALOMON, CIRILO TOLEDO, MARCO ALBEZA, CHARLTON BATHAN, ARCHIE MAYOL, RAYMUND PANGANIBAN, ELI BRYN TAMBIGA, LEOMIL PINO, JAMES CABAJAR, JOHN SEVILLA, GLENN PESTAÑO, SILVERIO CUEVA and ANTONIO VERGARA. They slogged and charged the unknown with me. 

 

Finally, I could not have done this without the faith and trust in the ALMIGHTY; the support, love and understanding of my wife VILMA and my family. These are the strengths and the inspirations why I persevered, against all odds, since I started the exploration on February 20, 2011 from Lutopan, Toledo City; and the first step of the Thruhike twenty-six days ago from Liloan Point, Santander.

Today, February 14, 2017, is a special day, not that it is Valentine’s Day, but it is the day that I will put closure of this historic Thruhike. The early morning is still silent as I rose from the comforts of my Therm-a-Rest laid on the concrete floor of the multi-purpose building of the village of Lanao, Daanbantayan. My morning habit for a glass of water led me to a water dispenser. The noise woke up both Markus Immer and Jonathaniel Apurado.

The sun had not thrust its will on this part of the world but I see five residents starting to enter the iron gate that lead to us. They were carrying pots and I believe there would be a feast later. We decide to clean up the place and put all our equipment and gear into our backpacks as neatly as possible as was practiced many times. We would not be needing our extra food anymore and we decide to leave it with our hosts.

I prepared the fossilized shell I picked up from Liloan Beach on the first minutes of the first day of the Thruhike and placed it inside a small ziploc plastic along with my business card and a paper indicating the origin of the shell and the date of the Thruhike. Jon prepared his also and labeled a small paper with his name and the date of the long walk. I drank coffee for the last time on the CHT.

The CHT itinerary says: 09:00 Arrival at Bulalaqui Point. Too stiff! It is just a morning hike of a few kilometers but I can tweak it by walking at a snail’s pace. We have a lot of time! Now the village hall is a beehive of activity and the people of Lanao are preparing a breakfast in our honor. Food are brown rice and bitter gourd with egg, organically grown along the lakeside shores of the heretofore unknown Lake Lanao.

After saying our deepmost thanks to the village council and the people of Lanao, we faced the cold northeast monsoon wind outside and lurched forward at 07:45 to fulfill our once-in-a-lifetime mission which no person or group have done before. Markus is in high spirits, extending his adventures in his adopted home. Connecting with the right people is his uncanny skill and he will not be denied today.

We follow an unpaved road that I have already identified as our route to Bulalaqui Point. I have explored this route last November 2016 which capped the more than five years long exploration of routes for the CHT. We entered the village of Tapilon, Daanbantayan when we reached the Looc Elementary School. In the mildest of weather, we barely shed sweat. We were not forcing our pace but walked in a manner akin to touring with a bike.

From a rough road, we were now walking on a new concrete pavement for just a few paces only as an old trail that have served the residents in the past is now my preferred path. It is a short cut to the highway which connect the town center of Daanbantayan to the Port of Maya and vice versa. We reach a bridge and I guess the stream below as the outlet of Lake Lanao. A concrete sign says we are now entering the village of Maya.

A motorcade celebrating National Heart Health Day overtook us as we walk towards Maya. Some of the participants on the vehicles must have known our presence and our business in their municipality and pointed their hands towards us. They waved at us. The noise of the drums drowned out their shouting voices as they were in the process of communicating with us. We waved back and became part of their celebration while it lasted for a fleeting seconds.

We arrived at the village hall of Maya and made a courtesy call to whoever is in charge. A watchman welcomed and entertained us as we try to explain our presence. A village council woman, Hon. Vanessa Laspinas, came and learned the purpose of our Thruhike and she was glad upon learning that their village, especially at Bulalaqui Point, is the terminus of our 27-day journey.

After a customary picture, we bade goodbye and seek the route to Cebu’s own finis de tierra, our land’s end of the north. I seek the small streets that would lead us to the new Port of Maya. The wharf is still under construction but, nevertheless, in operation. Two Ceres Liner buses parked at its empty parking area waiting for a boat from Malapascua Island or from Palompon, Leyte. There is a path that goes into a growing community and it had not changed despite construction of more houses.

We are now hiking uphill. It is grassy with patches of waist-high shrubs, some coconut trees and a few huge trees. The trail goes into another hill which the locals referred to as “pawikan gatakal”, because it looked like one turtle riding on the back of another turtle. Whatever it is, I climbed over the great hump and into wilder shrubs and better views of the yet-unfinished wharf and of a beautiful cove on the other side.

There is a cairn right on the trail and I stood above it and tried to propagate the Versa Duo VHF radio in the direction of the repeater tower of Ham Radio Cebu, 140 kilometers or so away, just like I did in Day Three, Day Fourteen, Day Fifteen and Day Twenty-two. At five watts power, the distance was just too great even when I have the strong amihan to my back. The Versa served me well and satisfies my experimentation. 

There are just a few meters of open space on the trail for soon we would be entering a stunted forest cover. The trees would provide us shade and we would be partly protected from the strong northeast monsoon winds, which is now more pronounced due to our proximity to open sea. I have to tread the trail slowly because, somewhere beyond my vision, would be the precipitous edges of Bulalaqui Point.  

At exactly 11:07, we arrive at Cebu’s northernmost point. The adventure of the Thruhike which had spun for 27 days plus two days rest halfway in Cebu City is now at a close. The jagged rock that had separated from the headland many many years ago danced among the waves a hundred feet below. My Canon IXUS camera, its very existence bounded to document in still and moving images the CHT Exploration and the Thruhike, is now more relevant than ever.

SPO4 Condino and PO1 Arreglado of Daanbantayan Police Station arrived to look over our safety and witnessed our small celebration in this most uninhabited corner of the great island province of Cebu. I am in the midst of the greatest performance of my life, talking before my camera in video mode for a total of 211 seconds, acknowledging Providence, the people I am with and those who have helped in the realization of the Thruhike and the CHT.

In a location I previously marked months ago, I retrieved a “time capsule” which I left last November 3, 2016. With that, I dug a shallow hole on the ground and place it there, together with my fossilized shell and that of Jon’s as well. I covered the hole back and placed a small cairn over it. I hope it would soon become a landmark. A shrine for adventurers who would leave their marks someday.

How many would be placed there in the future? At that moment, I was clueless. The idea of another Thruhike is a thing that I would not like to think of at that moment. What I am thinking of right now is to go home and be with my wife and my family. I missed them all especially my little grandson, Gifford. His grandpops has a lot of tales for him. Another reason is the Brew Kettle beer that I readied before Day Twelve. It would be very cold now. A good match for my deprived body.

The Thruhike had proven that Cebu can be walked along the middle, the interior, and at its most rugged terrain from the southernmost beach to its northernmost headland or vice versa. On both ends, you are assured of a dip in the sea by a beach. Although there had been attempts to walk across its length, notably by the party of Judge Meinrado Paredes in 1996-1997, it was not realized due to the prevailing peace and order situation and scarcity of maps.

During my explorations, the insurgency in Cebu have died a natural death but residues of suspicions remained. For several times I was placed in many awkward situations. People in the hinterlands are not used to seeing strangers walking with big backpacks. It reminded them of the violent past. Although we talked in the same dialect but there is no way I could explain to them of what is a “hiker”, a “mountain climber” or a “mountaineer”. A few times, we settled on a neutral word - “tourist”.

I carefully planned my exploration hikes, making it sure that the local government units, through Capitol, and the police are properly informed. It does not give assurance though as what happened on separate occasions of April and September 2016, where I or my team were escorted by the police and had to terminate the activity. Once, we were threatened with harm in March 2012 and, another time in January 2015 and October 2016, we were denied camp in a village.

Maps are important but I used it only during pre-route planning. Analog maps sold by NAMRIA are utterly outdated by 20+ years. I used and studied online maps provided by DOST Project Noah, before it was mothballed. I even screen printed the mouse-enlarged maps on several bond papers which I brought in my exploration hikes, just for reference only. Just like the analog maps, some villages are off their true locations. Most of the time, I used traditional navigation.

Anyway, the Thruhike needs careful planning, enough logistics and a walk of AT LEAST a month or more. (If people are intimidated of strangers casually walking, how would they find you running?) Food is a consideration. You know, I have developed a trauma of a certain breakfast food. You need to cook dinner and breakfast with denatured alcohol. You need to use an alcohol burner. There is no other way unless you hire a porter.

I got cold sweat when I thought of doing another Thruhike with guests as I sat inside the empty Ceres Liner. I am sure a lot of people would like to try the CHT end to end. Unfortunately, I still have not possessed the data that the radio tracking device provided by Galileo Satellite Control System-Philippines and my memory would serve that purpose for the time being. However, I would accept guideship jobs in segments only. The CHT is composed of eight segments. It is much friendly that way and easy for me.

We did it, finally. On that first few steps of that February 20 morning six years ago, I never thought that I would reach the end of my quest. At that time, I find it too ambitious and I was afraid that I might get sucked into obsession. How did I overcome everything? Especially the logistics and the trickles of support. I do not know. But one thing I know is you enjoy your passion and let people believe what you do. You must be credible, honest, bold and human. And you must pray.

Distance Walked: 8.54 kilometers

Elevation Gained: 35 meters and a low of 5 meters

Document done in LibreOffice 5.2 Writer

THE THRUHIKE JOURNAL: Day 26 (Bakhawan to Lanao)

A SINGLE DAY OF REST coming in from twelve straight days of hiking the most demanding and the most difficult terrain of the Cebu Highlands Trail worked impressively on your body. What made the rest more awesome is that we spent it at the idyllic Bakhawan Beach Home. The day is colder than yesterday and the breeze caused by the northeast monsoon made it so. Today is February 13, 2017 and this is Day Twenty-six of the Thruhike.

I would have wanted to stay for a few more hours but this is not the best time to tinker with my itinerary. No. Never! Not today when we are expected to finish this first ever Thruhike of Cebu in two days. I have people who are expecting me to hit the route once again. They are fed, from time to time, on social media by my Lenovo A7000 and, perhaps, if it is still working, by the satellite navigation transmitter provided by Galileo Satellite Control Systems-Philippines.

 

Lani Perez, the owner of Bakhawan Beach Home, a good friend of mine, and a common acquaintance, Bebut Estillore, have left very early in the morning. Before leaving, she had instructed her people to cook something nice for us before we embark on our own journey. Jonathaniel Apurado, me and my guest hiker, supply team commander and Thruhike supporter, Markus Immer, would be walking north. We would leave Mirasol and Mark Lepon, Ronald and Christian Jacob Abella, Leomil Pino and Glyn Formentera as they prepared themselves for departure to Metro Cebu.

I am glad the spartan breakfasts of instant soups and rice had come to an end three days ago and I have not missed it today. Instead, we will enjoy a breakfast of leftover free-rein chicken which is now part of a soup with horse radish. After the meal, there is coffee and the second to the last bottle of Yakult cultured milk and the last capsules of Enervon multivitamin and Herbalife natural raw Guarana. I sent a text message to the Daanbantayan Police Station that we are resuming our journey soon.

This day, I will no longer carry something with my hand but the Therm-a-Rest sleeping pad, provided by Michael Schwarz, will still be a fixture, taking its favorite place on my front. I said goodbye to Doming once again. It is 07:30. We are late but I know where I am going now and we were well-rested. We retrace our route we took two days ago to where that notch at Pangadlawan Hills is located. Across me is the Dalingding Hills and, farther away, is Panugnawan Hills.

I would not be walking there but follow a dirt road going north to the small community of Pangadlawan and to the sugar cane fields of Hacienda Gomez, in the village of Paypay, Daanbantayan. The breeze blew strong, the power lines sung, the sugar cane leaves clashed, while the coconut leaves overhead danced. I shivered at the wind. The winter coldness of Siberia, Japan, Manchuria and the Korean Peninsula can be felt as the northeast wind brought its below zero temperatures down the equator.

 

We are in the best of weather and time. The sun gave out its energy of light and warmth but the cool northern winds tempered it. I looked back at Markus and he gave me a thumbs up. Farther away is Jon, his umbrella blocking away the sun from his face. Everyone is okay, no need to rush. I have to enjoy this walk. It is now rolling terrain and we are now on the plains. The high places are over. I am walking in seventh heaven for I am now starting to cut distance and time to that elusive jewel on the north.

We walked on empty spaces and amidst communities where life seemed to have gone elsewhere. It is silent except for the hum of the power cables strummed by the amihan. Then there is the yakitty-yak of a political commentary on AM radio. It is a strange place to be in, unbelievable even. We reach an asphalted road and I have to follow it northeastward. Fish are dried beside the road in Dalingding, Daanbantayan. People stare at us and dismiss our presence. I understand why? Markus.

A foreigner in your strand, exempts you from inquisitive looks. Markus, my trouble saver. People now throw jokes at us about Markus and then laugh when Markus answered them in pidgin Cebuano, amused at themselves of being caught offguard. These same people which the policemen have dismissed their reports six months ago as nothing but rumor mongering, ignored us now and appeared jolly and carefree. I hope it stays that way for the rest of the route for this day.

We cross a wide steel bridge. Soon we would arrive at a road corner where there is a store and we would rest. At 10:12, we reach the corner of Libertad, Daanbantayan. We would rehydrate with the coldest Coca Cola of the planet and home-baked bread known as “burikat” from this store. There is a kiosk and we stayed in the shadiest and windiest part as I explained to Markus the significance of the bread’s name.

 

After 20 minutes, we continue. Somewhere over the road we would stop again for our noonbreak. I do not know where is that but I just wish it would be sooner as the noontime sun begins to feel uncomfortable. Among built-up areas that looked more urbane than rural, the luxury of the endless bursts of cooler winds are now missing. The concrete pavements bounce back heat towards our faces. Good thing I have dark sunglasses provided by Zue Fashion to shield my eyes from glare.

Markus and Jon has wide brimmed hats while I favored my drab green meshed shawl to cover my head and part of my face. I could wet it and cover my head when heat would be unbearable which I did before this Thruhike. I can fold it without taking space, can be washed easily, dries fast and I can use it as an alternative mosquito net for my face. It had seen good days and look tattered with some threads coming loose.

We passed by the village of Malingin, Daanbantayan and asked a village watchman. He knew us coming and is very helpful. The idea of us being expected in town removed the furrows of worry on my forehead. It made me feel good walking on concrete pavement even under a scorching noontime sun. My steps become light and sprightly and the buildup of fatigue dispersed about downwind. Just a few kilometers more and we would stop.

At 11:35, we stop by a store at the village of Pajo, Daanbantayan. It has good shade and there is a long bench. Across it is a road that would lead us to Lanao, hopefully, later. In the meantime, we just have to rest, rehydrate with water and cold RC Cola, and eat our rations. For me, it is another Fitbar energy cereal. I bought another bottle of RC and keep myself well hydrated. I updated my base support team about our whereabouts as I had done in every place we stopped and where there are phone signals to catch.

 

By 13:00, we lurched forward and cross the highway and enter that road across us. A few meters from the corner, vacant lands were converted into a garbage dumping area. Under the heat of the day, shreds of thin plastic and whole plastic bags danced on the empty air as the breeze tease it where it went tossed. It is dragged from the ground and spiraled up an invisible vortex and carried high among thermals to be part of the next day’s garbage to be dumped here.

The road is narrow with thin asphalt pavements. It winds irregularly among rehabilitated communities that were once flattened by Typhoon Haiyan in 2013. Several relief agencies have left their good marks here and the residents have recovered from that debacle and are busy engaging in their livelihood. A signboard says that we are now in the village of Tominjao, Daanbantayan. A few kilometers more and we will strike our day’s refuge.

At 13:50, I reach a corner where a sign reads “Welcome Barangay Lanao”. Lanao is named after a lake which I saw six months ago. Almost everyone knows not the presence of this body of water but it should be there even when there has been no rain for the last ten days. A middle aged woman asked us if we are the hikers and we were ushered to their village hall at 14:10. They expected us at 16:00 based on the itinerary I gave to both the Office of the Provincial Governor and the Cebu Police Provincial Office.

We were received by the village chairwoman, the Hon. Remedios Layos. Immediately, she mobilized her village council to prepare something for the visitors. It is quite strange that, six months ago, I was not entertained here and, here they are, giving me respect as if I and my companions are VIPs. I have made my peace with the people of Lanao when I came back here last November 3, 2016 to visit and talk to Hon. Remedios about my purpose and to ask her blessings. That day I finished the exploration and the completion of the CHT.

Her people were busy going in and out and calling other people so I asked her if we could visit Lake Lanao since we have a lot of time. That gave her the needed space to relieve pressure. She immediately provided a vehicle so we would be shuttled there accompanied by her councilor, Hon. Celso Montana, and three village watchmen. They would serve as our “tour guides” and our “security”. 

 

Lake Lanao, as I have said before, is unknown to most people outside of Daanbantayan. It is rain fed, a large pond, roughly five hectares in size and has an outlet that drains into the Bantayan Channel when it is filled beyond its capacity. It has an island near the southern shore. During its heyday, the lake used to provide freshwater fish to the communities when the seas were very rough for fishing. It is also a rich roosting ground for migratory birds.

The size of the lake decreased through the years as the shallow shorelines were converted into farmlands planted with rice and other crops. Overfishing and introduction of exotic fishes caused decline of the native fish species while migratory birds who still visit do not come in great numbers anymore. There is a secret burial ground of ancient Cebuanos inside a cave with which entrance is submerged in water. There is now a dry swamp where there are very large Leichardt pines grow (Local name: hambabalod).

We returned to the village on foot after more than an hour and we were served with snacks of espinossum seaweed (guso), sweet potatoes and softdrinks. We were welcomed to stay and sleep inside their village hall and we were provided with coffee, crackers, cold and hot water, electricity and peace of mind. Early dinner came at 15:45 hosted by the people of Lanao. It is free-rein chicken soup, fried milkfish (bangus), grilled pork and rice cooked in little coconut baskets (puso).

When we were alone, we claimed our sleeping spaces on the concrete floor, charged our batteries and enjoyed a happy atmosphere since nothing could stop now our historic Thruhike of Cebu. We will claim that bragging right tomorrow on Day Twenty-seven. Meanwhile, I crossed out the day’s itinerary, checked my map for tomorrow and concluded the night with entries on my journal.

Distance Walked: 15.33 kilometers

Elevation Gained: 113 meters and a low of 3 meters

Document done in LibreOffice 5.2 Writer

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 Tañon 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