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 XXVIII: Lutopan to Guadalupe

THERE ARE SOME PEOPLE WHO just does not give up. Failure is not an option for them but an opportunity to better them next time. I led a Selection Hike last time in October from Lutopan, Toledo City to South Poblacion, San Fernando which was 41.64 kilometers. There were twenty-one people at the start yet only fifteen made it less than twelve hours. The rest would have to do a repeat which I am organizing today, December 30, 2017.

The route, this time, is the traditional route of the Camp Red Bushcaft and Survival Guild, which is from Lutopan to Guadalupe, Cebu City. It is 36 kilometers yet it has to climb up the Babag Mountain Range and be finished in under 12 hours. Many have cut their teeth here and I just hope that those who were denied the last time would finally be able to break the curse. The Selection Hike is one of the requirements for membership into the guild.

We meet at the Cebu South Bus Terminal at 05:00 and I forgot about the holiday weekend rush. There were many people going home to the towns to celebrate New Year and the line is very long. We were able to ride a Toledo-bound bus at 06:45 after almost an hour of standing along the queue. Once the bus made its way, it stopped to pick up more passengers. It arrived at Lutopan at 09:00 and so we begin this stark holiday-season walk.

The pace I pushed was moderate, intending to preserve strength at its most crucial moments, which is the last half. We would arrive in darkness, I am sure of that, because of our late start, which was beyond our control. The 6-man Liloan Triathlon Team, totally driven high by the result of their participation of the October selection hike, came again to better their time in a terrain almost the same as from last time.

Bonabella Canga and Glyn Formentera, who both were overcame with fatigue and the 12-hour time limit during the last test, made themselves available now, along with first-timers Aaron Binoya and Kim Binghay. Going along as overwatches are Jhurds Neo, Aljew Frasco, Christopher Ngosiok, Justin Apurado, Locel Navarro and Mark Moniva. We all sacrificed comfort for this, which most are doing now for the approach of New Year’s Eve.

From Lutopan, we followed the paved concrete road over Cantabaco and Camp 8, Toledo City; Camp 7, Minglanilla; and stopped at the road corner found in Manipis, Talisay City for rest and rehydration. From this road corner, we took another road, partly paved and partly bare, most of this downhill, passing by Cebu City’s remote mountain villages of Sinsin and Buot. When everybody arrives at Buot, we stop to rest and to rehydrate.

There would be a one-hour noonbreak but there would be no lunch of cooked meal. What we would eat could either be bread, sandwiches or pre-cooked food. The Selection Hike is designed not as a race, despite its time limitation, but as a physical test for people from Camp Red and those who would like to associate with us, as a sort of an evacuation drill, under a scenario of foreign invasion, war or increasing distance from a threat of biological and chemical gases or radioactive fallout.  

Across us is the hanging bridge which spans our side to the other bank 30 meters away over the Bonbon River branch of the mighty Mananga River. We cross this swaying span and the misery of the hikers begin. The trail goes up to Mount Samboryo, a hill held in awe by locals. It should be because it is steep and there are swamp buffaloes on the loose with their young. You give it a wide berth when it stares at you with the evil eye.

We stop for a moment halfway to gather water from a water source. We proceed on and pass by a farm then climbing up a ridge and rest again. Two trails faced us: the older one which led to Cabatbatan and another newer path that goes up over the divide of Samboryo, passing by a razor-edged ridge and grassy meadows among muffin (sic) peaks. I lead the party slowly up the mountain, containing adrenaline level to a minimum.

The ground is stable than was the last time I passed by here a month ago. Dirt motorcycles causes so much damage to the trails here to the consternation of locals who used these trails to carry their produce to the markets and back with their week’s subsistence and also where their children use in going to school. Some homesteads decide to fence off the trails going to their farms for good measure. Seems the best way to discourage mindless cockroaches astride these machines.

The trail goes on a rolling terrain of short grass and farms on one side and forest line on the other side. Across us is the Sudlon Mountain Range and the wide Bonbon River Valley. Our quest took us to a beaten trail that goes down gently until one section of our party encountered a farm animal tethered across a trail. I passed by this cow and it moved timidly to the side when I made noise.

I find cows and swamp buffaloes blocking a trail normal although it should not be there. Farmers are just totally irresponsible and they never give a thought that people use these trails but what could we do when they grew up with this wrong habit. The cow became spooked when Jhurds brandished a stick to move it away and fell on all fours. The owners noticed it and they became agitated. I go back to control the situation.

All is well when the cow stood up. But it is best not to add fuel to a spark and thaw it with apologies instead even though it is their fault in the first place. There was a rush of adrenaline on this episode and we took advantage of it with increased speed over many road rises which seemed to never end. We reach Pamutan Junction at 16:30 and stop to rehydrate. We were all stressed out and that is not good. Jhurds decides to pull out due to a household errand.

From hereon, it would all be downhill through paved roads that pass by Baksan. It is a long concrete road and not friendly to our now-tender soles. I would have loved to take a trail that goes direct to Guadalupe but it is now dusk and most of those who compose this party has no experience in night navigation. I would not dare compromise safety for pain. Pain can be tolerable at times if you know how to turn off nerve receptors.

Those who are most fit and who seemed to have a high tolerance for pain vanished from view. I would have loved to be at the forefront but I have other matters to attend. I need everyone to beat the 12-hour limit and I decide to be at the tail, to be where the last people are. I became a one-man cheering squad trying to raise the morale of the last people in my field of vision.

I am with the last group and we arrive at the parking lot of the Our Lady of Guadalupe Parish at 20:44 or 11 hours and 44 minutes. The Liloan Triathlon Team, six people, arrived first at 20:21 or 11 hours and 21 minutes. Bona and Glyn, finally made it, especially for Glyn who failed on two occasions. It cannot be denied that both arrived at 20:31 or 11 hours and 31 minutes. Bona has her iPhone application to show me, to include the number of steps and calories burned. All that, for a happy 36 kilometers of torture.

Happy New Year!

Document done in LibreOffice 5.3 Writer

Photos by Christopher Ngosiok

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 11 (Buot to Guadalupe)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Distance Walked: 13.7 kilometers

Elevation Gained: 571 meters and a low of 57 meters

Document done in LibreOffice 5.2 Writer