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

MAN-SIZED HIKE XXVII: Manunggal-Babag-Lutopan

THE CEBU HIGHLANDS TRAIL is a long trail comprising of roads, dirt paths, farm trails, highways, even an old railroad and a stretch of trackless wilderness from southern tip to northern tip. These were stitched together by this blogger for almost six years before being hiked through in 27 days last January-February 2017. You would marvel at its length and you would be amazed that this blogger walked it on sheer memory.

It is divided into eight segments, the author noting that a guided thruhike is a far possibility as of this time since the routes had not been documented by any radionavigation system, being the CHT is but a product of memory borne from the oddities of traditional navigation. In segments, the CHT is simply manageable and the chances of error are small which could be rectified by creative ways.

 

In segment hiking, you could either start from the heel of Cebu, going up north to the “finis de tierra”. Or you could do it in numerical order from Segment I to Segment VIII. Whichever, the author simply designed it for the convenience of travel, with easy access from start and finish. Segments vary from two days to as much as five days. Segments also make it easy to carry your load of gear, food, and fuel and other supplies.

I have not yet opened it for guided walks but I accommodated the request of the Bukal Outdoor Club, for them to try the CHT. I have complete trust in this group for they trained themselves in jungle survival and wilderness first aid. They choose Segment I, the route that would start from Mount Manunggal then to Mount Babag before it terminate at Lutopan, Toledo City. This could be a test hike and to test my memory.

Segment I is one of the most difficult hike of the CHT and could stretch from 56 to 60 kilometers in length. It pass and traverse over three major mountain ranges: the Central Cebu Mountain Range where Mt. Manunggal is located; the Sudlon Mountain Range; and the Babag Mountain Range where Mt. Babag is located. It also cross two major river systems of Cebu: the Lusaran River and the Mananga River.

 

After lunchtime of November 30, 2017, we left the terminal at Ayala Center. Thirteen members of Bukal Outdoor Club came and two from the Camp Red Bushcraft and Survival Guild. We have an itinerary to follow which is very important since it would determine the food we bring. Going up and down difficult terrain for five days hefting heavy loads is not easy, especially under a warm tropical sun.

We alighted at the Trans-Central Highway where there is a feeder road that lead to Mt. Manunggal. From there we follow this dirt road which pass by the village of Sunog, Balamban. The village now charge visitors eighty pesos each if you camp at Mt. Manunggal, which we will soon be, and at Mt. Mauyog. Personally, I do not have any qualms about this if it benefitted the folks and improved the services, then, so be it.

We arrive at 16:00 and set up our shelters. Part of the entrance fee is the use of the bathroom and piped water. Which is fair enough. I do not know about how the caretakers dispose of other people’s garbage. As far as I know, hikers and mountain climbers take care of their own garbage and bring it with them. I believed the bulk of the garbage are those that are brought by locals, especially during the annual March 17th revelry.

It was strangely warm in Mt. Manunggal where, in another time at that hour, it would have been already awfully cold. I expected a sleepless night since I would be laying down in a hammock under a simple shelter of taffeta sheet which are open on two sides. The ingredients for their first meal is now dispatched into a grand dinner. There was a glass of brandy doing the rounds and I stayed until about 20:00 when wind begun to chill a bit.

When it was still dark, and cold, hushed voices awakened me. In the clear air, the metal clank of pots are distinguishable and I could hear the hiss of a butane stove. Somebody woke up so early to prepare breakfast. I would want to rise but there is not much I could do except slurp coffee. I could do that later. The second day, December 1, is really the start of the Segment I hike. The start of their adventure.

After a filling breakfast, we break camp and started very early at 07:30. Our first destination would be Inalad Saddle, which the itinerary says we will reach at 12:00. We would be following a trail that only a few people use and it goes down the upper part of the Lusaran River. I know this path well, having passed by here on many occasions until someone closed that part which offered shorter route to Inalad.

 

We go down from Mt. Manunggal over a very beautiful trail, grassy and forested and squeezing among rocks in a tight cleavage until we rest by a place called Kapiyoan. Going with us is a dog from Sunog. It followed us because we have food to spare. From there, we go down some more among cleared patches, solitary houses and swidden farms and cross small tributary streams and landing on the sandy shore of the Upper Lusaran.

We cross the stream five times and climb up on the other side and follow a narrow trail that follow gently the lower contours of a mountain range of Cantipla. We ultimately reach Inalad at exactly 12:00 and buy prepared food from a local restaurant. One of the hikers  has to cut short participation because of prior commitment. Inalad is a marketplace and is the common boundary of Balamban, Cebu City and Toledo City. After lunch, we spend our deserved siesta. So is our guest dog.

At 13:00, we continue on our way by crossing the Trans-Central Highway into the side of Toledo City. There is another feeder road that would lead to the village of Tongkay. It snaked its way, gently meandering into a valley surrounded by mountains. When we reach the village, we registered our names into their visitor’s log after a courtesy call. We cross the Upper Hinulawan River, which drains to Malubog Lake, and climb Mount Tongkay. 

This is another good trail but you would not appreciate it since the warm early afternoon sun would be directly facing your right. Although it is well vegetated on both sides, the path is bare. The trail goes up and up until it becomes tricky. While the trail goes on its hog back, I prefer to cut across a hillside farm, oblique, right on the face of the mountain until I come upon low vegetation where I turn at a right angle towards the campsite uphill.

  

Before climbing Mt. Tongkay, everyone filled their water containers full at village since the nearest water source would be at Etwi, half a kilometer away. What weight they disposed to the two meals at Mt. Manunggal were replaced by water and everyone struggled the trail to this campsite, which we reach at 16:30. Tents are set up on the open ground while Jethro and I opt to sleep above ground in our respective hammocks.

Soon there would be a spectacular moonrise as the moon approaches its full waxing in two days. Across the campsite is the saddle of Inalad and the imposing height of Mount Gaas. Further away, lost in its mantle of clouds, is Mt. Manunggal. We are overlooking the valley and, soon, warm air from below would slowly rise, giving us a comfortable night with just the right temperatures. A forest rising from the other side protect us from the south wind.

Dinner is prepared hastily while there is still daylight and our adopted dog liked it very much. We made a campfire to celebrate the good hike for today. Another glass of rum make its round among the campers under the silvery light of the moon. Wind shrieked among the lower valley yet it never affected us. It was comfortably warm in our campsite. When the last of the fiery liquid were completely gone, we made for our waiting shelters.

The third day, December 2, made its presence known with the crowing of the cocks, tame and wild, and by the hiss of the butane burner. The camp becomes alive as daylight augured for another round of adventure. Segment I is divided into two sub-segments. The first installment, the ones we have walked yesterday and later for today, is unknown territory which this author and only a few has walked.

After breakfast, we break camp and kept to the trail to Mt. Tongkay. On its very summit is a deep vertical hole, perhaps the vent of a large copper mine and everybody carefully study its depths from the lip. Continuing on, we followed the path on a narrow ridge that connect to Etwi Peak. Landslides effected a difficult passing underneath the mountain but all made it safely. This ridge goes on to another ridge which becomes the Sudlon Mountain Range.

We arrive at Maraag, in the village of Sudlon I, and there is a store that sold cold soda drinks. We stayed here for about ten minutes. There is now a road here that connect to the Trans-Central Highway if you go north. We go north but we veer to a feeder road that goes to Panas. It is a dirt road with several trailheads, tempting you to take one. I have taken each and every trail in the past, borne out of confusion, stress and failing memory.

Never have I stuck to one path on those occasions and I was literally lost except for my first attempt. That path is the one I am looking for. I have to be accurate this time. I have fourteen people to take care of and our line would stretch long on “uncharted” territory. I found the trailhead and my confidence builds up. The trail lead us to solitary houses, farms, headwaters, forests and grassy meadows. It is a warm day and my memory begins to lose some.

I have to backtrack on one when I found going the wrong way and I have to reconnoiter on other times, the stress begins to build up on me and I have to call a time out at 11:00 as the sun bore its intensity on me. I begged for coffee underneath the shade of a big star apple tree. I have to rest else I would burn out. The rest for thirty minutes, coupled with coffee and powdered juice, have stabilized me and I took the trail once more with gusto.

The trail goes on its serpentine path, going up and down, mostly down, until I reached the home of Yolando Obong at 14:00, whose place I passed by in 2015 during a penitence hike. The house is abandoned yet there are fighting cocks leashed to the ground while hens and chicks rove around and everywhere. Mr. Obong would be back later to feed these fowls, I am sure of that, but I could not wait. We rest here for a while and fill our bottles from a spring.

We must go down to Biasong Creek then go to Mt. Babag and we have squandered a lot of time that we are now behind schedule. Once we reach safely the village of Bonbon at dusk, it would be alright to walk in darkness to our next campsite. We leave for the stream, following a trail which I thought was the one based on a two-year old memory. Although I passed by here in January during the Thruhike, it was done in reverse from Biasong Creek.

We go down a steep and difficult route inside a jungle. There were trails but it ended on holes where charcoals are made. I tried the gully but I stared on a very steep precipice as it is a dried up waterfall. My hair stood on its tiptoes as I realized we could all be swept away to kingdom come if ever there is a big downpour. I advised everybody to backtrack and go back to where we came from. My memory simply failed me again and I am tired.

It is now 15:30 and too few daylight hours to make another try to the stream. We have to go back to Mr. Obong’s place and set up our campsite. We have adequate water there. Defeated, I set up my hammock and shelter far from the rest. Dinner is prepared. There is another spectacular moonrise over the Babag Mountain Range, the place where we should have set up camp tonight.

Mr. Obong arrived at 22:00 and how I was glad to see him and talked to him about our earlier debacle. He is feeding his fowls in the dead of night for his late arrival and he promised me the correct path early morning. He also warned me that strange men not from his place pass by here at dawn. He just leave them alone. True enough, there was a man in a hurry passing by where I slept at around 02:00 and he was not carrying a torch.

The fourth day, December 3, saw us falling behind schedule by almost 24 hours. I have to remedy that and do some improvisation once we reach Biasong. We thanked Mr. Obong for his help and for accommodating us in his ground and bade goodbye. Refreshed from a good night’s sleep, I am now on the trail to Biasong Creek at 07:00. The ground is slippery as it is steep with very few good handholds to anchor since most plants here are spiny.   

 

After 45 minutes, we were on the stream. The water is at a moderate level. We followed an invisible path where we are able to keep our shoes dry. While trying to grip a steep rock face, one of my shoes slipped from a slippery toehold and I fell into a waist-high depth, totally incapacitating my use of my Lenovo A7000 smartphone and my Cherry Mobile U2 analog phone. Without these, I cannot give updates of our locations. 

We arrive at Biasong at 10:00 and sucked dry, bottle after bottle of cold soda drinks. We haggled with a Suzuki Multicab owner and we were transferred, all 15 of us and a dog, to the place where we were supposed to spend our campsite last night, disregarding the need to cross Bonbon River and walking the road to the Trans-Central Highway and to Mt. Babag. Even with that, we are still a full five hours late. It is almost 11:30 and we eat lunch brought by another Bukal Outdoor Club member who joined us.

Fully rested and full, we continue at 12:00, following the dirt road, passing by Mt. Babag, until it becomes a mere trail. The Babag Ridge Trail is a beautiful stretch of forested country unknown to a lot of people. Lately, new hikers begun to discover this and they failed to know the places where the old World War II trenches and tunnels were located. Everyone were aghast at this hidden gem and it goes through another forest, mostly of crawling bamboos (bokawe) and, facing before us is, Mount Bocaue.

We did not climb the peak as we were on a hurry. We are racing with time and there are too few daylight hours left. We need to be in the village of Buot, Cebu City before sundown and walking in darkness into our next campsite would be okay since we will be on roads. In the meantime, we are on a trail yet and following a wrong one would spell disaster to our itinerary. I concentrate on landmarks instead of being concerned with time and pace.

This is a long ridge. We are walking almost the entire length of the Babag Mountain Range. We reach Mount Samboryo and my worries of getting lost are losing its grip. The trail goes down but some people before us, on board dirt motorcycles, have ruined the path, loosening a lot of rocks and tearing soft spots which became difficult to tread on. These people simply do not respect the locals who used these trails for their livelihood and for their children going to school.

We cross a hanging steel bridge and arrive at Buot at 17:00. We douse another batch of cold soda drinks before going the long way to Odlom. This time, we would be walking uphill on a combination of paved and dirt road. It is a long uphill walk. The soles have seen its beating from four days walk and extended for another many hours of night walking. It begins to be painful as the leg joints begins to complain.

 

The pace becomes controlled and careful so as not to overburden the feet soles. We arrive at Odlom, a part of the village of Sinsin, Cebu City, at 19:00 and we have to walk another hour to the Manipis Road and then 30 minutes to Camp 7, in Minglanilla. It extended to two hours because of frequent rests. At 21:00, we finally arrive at the DENR’s Biodiversity, Coastal, Wetlands, Ecotourism Research Center for our day’s campsite.

Our stay at DENR-BCWERC was made possible through my request which was approved by Dr. Alicia Lustica, the center head. It is composed of the Cebu Experimental Forest, a nursery, caves, trails, a small waterfall and wildlife. Unknown to most people, the center accepts ecotourism tours as it has a 240-meter Kiddie Trail; a 1.3 kilometers EcoDiscovery and Heritage Trail; and a 1.2 kilometers Ecstacy Trail which include visiting two caves.

Dinner came at 23:00 and it was another grand meal worthy of remembrance. There was a bottle of brandy somewhere but I opt to chase sleep. I am really tired. I was using the wrong bag. It was the Mil-Tec rucksack whose waist belt was inadequate to transfer the weight to my hips from my shoulders. I was hefting all along for the past four days the whole load on my upper body. I was supposed to reserve this bag for overnight trips only. Memory fail again.

The fifth day, December 4, is just a stroll in the park. Our destination is Lutopan, a progressive mountain village of Toledo City. We left the DENR-BCWERC at 09:00. The road goes down but long and paved. We are nursing bruised soles. What more for our adopted canine who walked bare? We reach Lutopan at 12:00 and rode a bus bound for Cebu City. What a great canine migration and adventure.        

Document done in LibreOffice 5.4 Writer

Photo credits to Apol Antenor, Kier Mancao, Nyor Pino and Mariel Reyes

THE THRUHIKE JOURNAL: Day 12 (Guadalupe to Biasong Creek)

I HAVE RISEN EARLY today, January 30, 2017, to finish the rest of the Thruhike. I have not really rested well on the two days that were allotted as rest days. I was working on the loose ends of the Thruhike like shopping for more food items and stove fuel that I have failed to procure the last time, assorting all of these in three separate plastic bags for the three rendezvous points of the northern leg, handing out these same bags to our supply team and another bag for Jonathaniel Apurado as his share of the stuff that we both will carry.

I have slept late on those two days. I was quite stressed out. When you are the organizer and the lead person, the weight of responsibility would bear on your shoulders. On the other hand, I am healthy and good to go for the final half of the Cebu Highlands Trail. My CHT jersey and hiking pants, which were both provided by Silangan Outdoor Equipment, are properly washed and smelled good again. For a change, I will use my old pair of Hi-Tec Lima shoes to let my blisters heal properly since these are a good fit and properly broken.

One great change that I have imposed on my gear is the replacement of a backpack that have caused misery on my shoulders during the southern leg. It was a local brand and the design had many flaws. I could have endorsed their brand in social media and in my blog if they have answered my message since I advocated support for local products. But it was not to be. They missed their chance and that freed me of the misery of endorsing a bad product. Gian Carlo Jubela of Adrenaline Romance Blog, however, provided me instead his pre-loved High Sierra Titan.

As it turned out the High Sierra bag is bigger, at 50 liters storage capacity, I was able to organize better my things this time. It is much lighter, giving me more option to carry more, and has fat shoulder pads and waist belts. It has extra pockets found on the waist belt and underneath the top cover and has an expandable pouch. The pouch is very important because I could retrieve quickly my itinerary, maps, documents and journal sealed inside a waterproofed Sea Line map case. It has another front opening near the bottom and has an earth-toned color of olive green.

Basically, the things that I carried on the southern leg are almost the same for today except, perhaps, a few minor ones like replacing the Buck Classic 112 with a Victorinox Ranger and adding the Camp Red Limited Edition Balaraw for slashing work on the hardest part of the northern leg. Our food would still be the same. Breakfast would be rice and Knorr soups, energy bars and baked products for lunch, and spicy Korean noodles and rice for dinner. Our meals would be supplemented by capsules of Enervon Multivitamins and Herbalife Natural Raw Guarana.

The northern leg of the Thruhike would be more difficult than the ones found in the south and I have to be kind to our legs and feet by identifying three different places to replenish our supplies. That meant that we have to lug supplies a few days less than what we did for the southern leg. Today we are carrying four days worth of food and fuel to be carried over the Babag Mountain Range and the more rugged Sudlon Mountain Range. As the initiator of this Thruhike, I am carrying extra.

We start from the Our Lady of Guadalupe Parish, Guadalupe, Cebu City at 05:10, following the road at the back of the church. I send a text message to the Cebu City Police Office informing them of the continuation of the Thruhike. We arrive at a place called Napo, which is part of Sapangdaku, Cebu City at 06:00. Eight minutes later, we were on our way again. The trail goes on into familiar ground, crossing the Sapangdaku Creek where Jon had a quick breakfast of spaghetti, right across the Lower Kahugan Spring.

By 07:00, we begun the assault of Mount Babag, following the trail that I personally designate as the East Ridge Pass, passing by the abandoned homestead of the Roble family and the Upper Kahugan Spring. We arrive at Babag Ridge at 08:50 and followed the road to a store owned by a friend, Vicente Bontiel. The climb and the walk that start four hours ago have started to eat away my resolve. It is 09:30 and it starts to go warm. A couple of cold Coke and 15 minutes rest would be ideal to recondition the mind that we are in a Thruhike instead of a dayhike.

This road goes to a junction and we choose the left one for it leads us to the village of Bonbon, Cebu City. Along the way, we meet Michael Cabras and wife. They are settling here as homesteaders. I teach bushcraft and survival and Michael learned from me during the Philippine Independence Bushcraft Camp last year in Liloan, Cebu. Homesteading is not easy, especially if you are doing it on your own. You would need to blend, adapt and improvise. If you know bushcraft, you fit in easily. If you are not, then you have a lot of real hard labor cut out for you.

We reach the Transcentral Highway and bought a few bananas. It is very humid and the bananas would be helpful in staving off muscle cramps. Just a couple of meters away is the road to Bonbon. It is paved and all downhill. We followed it until we reach a bridge at 11:20. We stop by here to spend noonbreak inside a small restaurant. The heat of the day is just too much. It is even felt under the shade of a roof. I cannot do something about it but get on with life. In about an hour, we would be on trails and streams.

I cross the wide Bonbon River, whose water level reach my knees. I have to remove my Hi-Tec shoes and Lorpen socks and fold my quick drying Silangan hiking pants up to my groin. Up ahead would be a place called Biasong and a creek that I would follow upstream. On a point where there is a trail, I would climb a mountain that would lead me to Maraag Ridge, our designated campsite for Day Twelve. It looks so easy on the itinerary. I hope we could achieve our destination despite the obstacles of climbing two mountain ranges in a day.

I am forced to walk Biasong Creek, following the route that I have identified and refined during the several exploration hikes that I undertook on Segment I in the years between 2011 and 2016. Of all the segments that the CHT would choose, this would be the most dangerous, for it cross rivers. Not only that, you would walk upstream on one river, like I am doing now. If I have time, I would remove this part and refine the segment on entirely drier ground, which I already did on its other half.

When you are walking a stream, you are forever indebted to check the sky from time to time. Biasong Creek is deeper than the last time I was here and, where I walked with dry shoes and socks before, I am forced to remove these now. Water goes up beyond my knees at places where it is most shallow. At one point, I felt goosebumps when I saw dark clouds blotting open space among thick jungle. I doubled our pace and suffer for that by walking barefoot a lot of the time.

Time was not on our side. The water level impeded our progress. Again, I will have to compromise and modify the itinerary by looking for another place to camp. It is not easy, this campsite. It took us almost dusk – at 17:30 – to find it. It is fifteen meters away from the edge of Biasong Creek and on a high ground. I have to consider those treacherous flashfloods. You cannot be too sure. We claim our bivouac site where there are trees to tie our hammocks to. We have only a few daylight hours left to set that up and cook our evening meal.

I am able to set up my shelter quickly while Jon was struggling with his. I boil water for coffee and enjoyed the natural sounds of running water and the sounds of dusk creatures. Then I remembered my late grandfather, who took me to these same places to learn the ways of the jungle. From him, I learned how bushcraft is done, the same idea that I teach people. Jon recovered from the stress of fighting off fatigue and taming his brain and settled down to fetch water down the stream.

We are both carrying a half-kilo of rice each, repacked in 100 grams inside plastic tubes that people used to sell ice or cold water. This 100 grams is good enough for one meal shared by two people. Jon dropped his first 100 grams into the pot to start the cooking of rice. Our fuel are denatured alcohol totalling one liter each which would be burned in our Trangia burners. Jon has two billy cans while I have a Kovea cook set. Our dinner would be Korean spicy noodles which would come from my own supply.

Dinner came at 19:30. Camp life is noticeable only within the range limits of our head lamps. There is no moon. The food was good. Spicy as always. A spoon of virgin coconut meal finished off my day, as I have done in the south leg. I squeezed into my hammock and it sagged closer to ground. The jungle sounds and the stream became a lullaby to my ears. Checked the phone signals of both my Cherry Mobile U2 and my Lenovo A7000. No need to waste battery power so I turned it off.

So was the Versa Duo 2-way radios directed to a repeater tower of Ham Radio Cebu. No signal. I have underestimated the distance from Guadalupe to Maraag Ridge just like I did on Day Seven. I was not tired but my brain got overwhelmed by the immensity of the country we walked in at a pace which was faster than usual, considering the weight we are carrying. We were fortunate we came this far at the edge of Sudlon I, Cebu City. Tomorrow would be harder. What we failed to take today would be added tomorrow.

Distance Walked: 18.58 kilometers

Elevation Gained: 718 meters and a low of 56 meters

Document done in LibreOffice 5.2 Writer

Some photos courtesy of Jonathaniel Apurado

NAPO TO BABAG TALES CXV: Monotony is Sweet

IT DOES NOT MATTER IF I had been here two days ago. The opportunity of working out myself on my sweat room without walls is welcome anytime. I do not mind the monotony of it. Maybe I am sick or it could be you but, I am sure, it has to be you. The YOU that have had no time for moments like I loved doing all the time or, if you do have time, you may be dreaming of those faraway spectacular places where the purse makes a difference. And how did you fared after that? Or how many times can you do it in a year?

Yeah...yeah...yeah...blah...blah...blah. I have heard that before.

No matter. There is hope after all. You have not mastered your own self and you are there on the fringes of your daydreams. You should shift paradigms and dig down into your roots, past that veneer of Western-style education where you are taught conventional thoughts, and that corporate hum-drum which generates so much stress on your body, your thoughts, your emotions and on your spirituality. You can escape all that and reinvent yourself every weekend and learn to accept the mother of all monotony by being unconventional for just a day.

Try the Babag Mountain Range in Cebu City. IT IS just THERE!

Elevation does not matter, my friend. It is the effort and, conversely, there is so much freedom of movement and access, that effort seems to be just a footnote, to include your expenses. You can not spend so much just to climb over your fears. Ask some of our friends from Metro Manila and they will tell you how they have wished they were born in Cebu or were working here. You are so fortunate that this mountain range is right in your backyard yet you disregard it for somewhere else.

Explore your own backyard instead. Learn the game of Monotony.

Start with just a few friends. When I begun to reclaim my place in the outdoors in 2008, I hiked from Guadalupe to Napo to Mount Babag (752 meters) and back each Sunday of each month. FOR ONE YEAR! When I have gained enough stamina, I roamed confidently the Babag Mountain Range and beyond. Even beyond that very moderate monotony of one weekend day for it increased into four Sundays of each month. Anyway, when you start being adventurous, you develop good relations with local residents first for they know their places very well.

Fast rewind: A look at the past.

You know, I used to climb mountains in faraway places during the ‘90s. After Mount Apo (2963 meters), you have to cross international borders to feed more your ego of chasing dreams and higher elevations. For an ordinary laborer, that would be extravagant and unthinkable. Running a household and providing education to your children are more important. I admit, I started on the wrong foot but, at that time, climbing peaks were bohemian. It was years later that I am no mountaineer after all and no desire to be. It was just the wrong choice of words.

Remember this: Big mountains demand big pockets.

The word mountaineering has a special ring to it. It is associated with the legendary individuals who made their living off the forbidding peaks of the Himalayas, the Denali, the Karakorum, the Andes, the Alps, the Caucasus and the massifs of Antarctica. All above 4000 meters! All technical climbs requiring all fours, experience, more time, coils of ropes, gears and special equipment and they were all appropriately dressed. All can afford it because they were backed by big industries who loved to plaster their names on every inch of space of synthetic fabric and by paying clients.

Forget mountaineering. Be realistic. Just be an ordinary outdoorsman.

That is what I am doing now. It is September 4, 2016, just another long sequence of monotonic Sundays. Working out with my fellow outdoorsmen belonging to the Camp Red Bushcraft and Survival Guild. Another dirt time. We are above Camp Xi and are in a low ridge that goes up to the Babag Ridge but we do not have to walk all the way there. We stop whenever we find a good place to enhance our cooking skills and, of course, to indulge in a quiet feast. A real fire has just been started and soon we will have coffee. It is good to be just a lowly bushman.

Monotony is sweet but it will not be forever.

While access to places in and around the Babag Mountain Range are very much free, why go to places where entry fees and all other charges, invented or not, gave you so much stress instead of escape from it. I can always read people ranting in Facebook about these things and I could not understand why these same people keep on going back to these places and rant again? I rather choose monotony. However soon, I expect stupid foreign-sounding subdivision names claiming the foothills here and make access difficult for us. Possibilities like these are just around the corner. It happened in many places.

The great outdoors workout.

The mountains and all that is found in nature nurtures the mind and makes it sharp. It expands its curiosity into nooks where you had not been to yet. That could have been alright with you in your expensive treks but you are restrained by time. In the Babag Mountain Range, you are not and you could do it anytime you wished. I just discovered today a small waterfall and a surviving marang tree (English: Johey oak) which the oldest locals never even knew of its existence. A possible heirloom species. Then there is a cloud rat that has no fear of my presence. These are small discoveries yet it ensures my workout of mind and body is going perfectly.

What lies beyond?

The Babag Mountain Range is the seed of where my great exploration of the whole backbone of the Island of Cebu which metamorphosed into the Cebu Highlands Trail. These often-ignored mountain range developed me into someone which, twenty years ago, I could not have even comprehended. When I stood on that ridge of Babag in 2008, I looked beyond the other side and saw my dreams unfolding before me. There was bigger country out there and there were more mountains and trails. And then there was me.

Post-euphoria remedy.

Why go to these spectacular places just to be seen in your social circles? I know how you feel when you open your Facebook account and you are reminded of a memory of your impressive trip of three years ago. Most of us go to places only once in our lifetime and, sometimes, twice but, I am quite convinced, you can do it many times as you would wish as long as it is realistic, achievable and cheap. Sometimes, it takes just common sense. Monotony is part of that.

Document done in LibreOffice 5.2 Writer