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 XI: Sinsin to Guadalupe

SEGMENT 1-A OF MY Cebu Highlands Trail Project is the most used route I take whenever I engage people to a cross-country day hike. This route is also used as a requirement for membership into the Camp Red Bushcraft and Survival Guild. This route then satisfies the adventure adrenaline of most, as a selection hike for a chosen few and torture for someone who had been on this six times.

Today, October 26, 2014, would be my seventh. I do not like to do this all the time for the simple reason that my ancient body could not keep up to the demands of what the brain imposes. Just walking and crossing the Bonbon-Mananga River System twenty-one times for 2-3 hours is enough to feel the pounding of my water-soaked feet to stones that I stepped on and to sand grits lodged inside shoes and socks. The heavier you are, the more pronounced this foreign objects on your feet. I weigh like a pygmy rhinoceros.

But I have to do this. I am a different breed and I possessed a warrior’s grit and spirit. I want to leave a legacy. I want to mold warriors from this pampered generation and then teach them how to deal with pain. Pain is a nuisance but it is a a fact of life. Pain creates character and fortitude. Without it you will always be walking meat. The stretch of this route, which used to start at Lutopan, Toledo City, is mind-boggling to achieve in twelve hours but it is just a state of the mind.

Today’s activity is delayed by “Filipino time” and further delayed by people who still needs to be baby-seated all the time. We leave the assembly area at Citilink, Cebu City at almost seven. We took a public jitney to Tabunok, Talisay City and then procure ingredients for our noontime meal at its public market. Long ago, we used to take a bus bound for Lutopan and you have to be early because the bus took an eternity to reach its destination.

Today we will ride motorcycles for hire. It is not safe but it cuts away travel time. The Manipis Road is still undergoing facelifts caused by recent landslides. There are no steel railings on a lot of stretches and you can feel your soul beginning to break away from your physical body as you cast your eyes downward into the distant river below. Stretches of unpaved road, muddy and wet, causes tire wheels to skid and run on snaky patterns! Shucks.

Jhurds Neo and Nyor Pino, veterans of this route, are the first to go; then the father-and-son tandem of Jonathan and Justin Apurado; then husband-and-wife, Mark and Marisol Lepon; and me, as last man. While the motorcycle I rode took a refill at a gas station, I saw Jingaling Campomanes, in a quandary of looking for missing people, asking locals about us. I cut away her worries by calling her and offered her space on the small 100cc motorcycle. Our entourage now feels like a scene from a popular TV adventure race.

When me and Jingaling arrived at the Sinsin junction of the road, nobody was there. How could Jhurds and Nyor miss this place? I looked, I asked locals and I sent text messages of the missing six. Meanwhile, minutes tick by, further aggravating the itinerary. It is 08:00 and we have a schedule to catch. Fortunately, Jhurds, on the prodding of the driver, called me. We meet them halfway between Sinsin Junction and Odlom. It is 08:25 and I have to brief them so there would be no mistakes this time.

The road from Odlom cant downwards to Buot-Taup, an upland village of Cebu City which is located nearby Bonbon River. My plan does not enter the village center but it takes a detour to a trail going down onto a small tributary which we follow downstream into the bigger Bonbon. I remind everyone to get used to having wet shoes and socks because there are no other ways to get to the other side. Some did not get my message right and tried to be Indiana Jones. Their futility leads to water just the same and a sprained ankle on one.

Streambeds, which you see as flat, hide quarry holes, which you may notice only when you are on its edge. I do not want people walking where they choose and inflict injuries through carelessness and ignorance. I remind them again to walk single file and follow me. When excitement and adrenaline controls your mind, you tend to overlook the finer details of the surroundings. You tend to reject common sense. I remind Nyor to stay at the tail and keep the ears glued to the slightest deviations of the river’s rhythm.

Meanwhile, I grudgingly welcome the walking on water. Personally, I really do not like to thread on streams and I was taught to travel smartly so I could keep my feet dry. Walking on streams exposes you to a lot of dangers. Flashfloods are your main concern. Then your soles soften, exposing you to pain underneath. Stones, whether exposed or underneath, are slippery and you lose balance. But this is the best training ground to increase your outdoors awareness. I am serious when on rivers because I have seen its power many times.

By 10:30, we got past the place where I previously stop to prepare a meal. I think our pace is just too slow. Too many stops along the way to accommodate a limping member caused us precious long minutes. It had been fair weather when we start and I see dark clouds from the east. It does not matter for it only bring rain. What I worry are rainclouds from the west or north. Slight drops of water begins to appear and everyone is worried. I am not but I am quite worried of Jhurds. I need to stop to make coffee on a sandbar.

The water boiled just as Jhurds and Nyor arrived. There is a slight drizzle yet coffee time goes on. Jhurds needed that. Very much. Sitting on a rock made me better. The change in weather cooled the oven-hot streambed. We resume our journey. The slight rain caused water from the Manipis Road to cascade into the river system by way of storm ditches. The water is brown. It joins the Bonbon making it brown but, as time goes by, the great quantity of clear water won over the effuse.

We pass by the fork of the river system where the Bonbon River becomes the Mananga River. The stream becomes wider and becomes dangerous. Additional tributaries increases water volume like the Maraot Creek, where water current come strong, by virtue of its location from a much higher elevation. I evade the place where the Maraot joins the Mananga. Bad memories. With that, the trailhead to Cabatbatan would not be far. It is almost twelve noon and I have to change route: from the river bed to drier ground.

We rest underneath a mango tree at Camp 4, Talisay City. This is the halfway point of our journey. Long ago there used to be a big acacia tree here which gives a better place to rest. It is now gone, cut into pieces for no apparent reason except to cash in on charcoal. We stayed and boiled water for coffee. We needed this. Some of us do not have the luxury of breakfast. Me, I bought two binangkal (English: ball pudding) at Tabunok. I ate the first and would have eaten the second when a Bajau girl appeared asking for alms.

Yes, the coffee would be a big help because Cabatbatan Trail is an unforgiving trail. How many of my party suffered cramps here in the past. I remind all not to keep up with the strong pacers. The weak should walk at their own whims. I tasked Mark to count the number of concrete footpaths. I am leading the pack and I am relentless here. I seldom stop but I have to look back once in a while. I really am concerned of Jhurds, of Nyor, of Jingaling and of Mark.

I met a lone hiker in the middle of this route. He is clad in a trail-running outfit but he is wearing thong sandals. He also has an alpine cane. It is the second time I see such kind here. He came from Pamutan, he says. I told him I came from Sinsin Ridge and will exit to where he came from. But I am challenged by his footwear. It is not threaded and the man is slight of build even though he is tall. He would leave almost no trace on the trail and that is where my excitement is focused. I will look for it and study if I found it.

It is slightly raining again. It would certainly disturb his fresh tracks which would be indiscernible. Beyond a lone tamarind tree, I saw his sandal print. The right foot made a slight indent near the grass. He was travelling light and I did not see another print until I pass by a muddy stretch. Obviously, he is oriented to walking along the middle of the path and he has no knowledge whatsoever of trailcraft. As I was doing that, his alpine pole left a series of perfect holes on the ground.

I reach Maraot Creek and take a rest. Justin and Jonathan arrive not long after. I just bought a Cherry Mobile U2 mobile phone. The manual says it is waterproof, dustproof, shockproof and encased in a floatable material. I tossed the phone on the stream. It hit bottom then it floated to the surface and was carried by the current. I took pictures of this wonderful gadget which had been so true to its packaging. The gear test were witnessed by father and son.

Jingaling and Marisol came after five minutes. Nyor, Mark and Justine after eight minutes. Mark counted 1,860 steps. Very good and thank you. Jhurds seem to be okay but he felt his ankle beginning to swell. It distracts his walking and he favored only one foot. Well, Jhurds, this is not your finest moment. You got to walk, pain or without pain. I cannot babysit you at this stretch of the game. We cross the stream and proceed to Cabatbatan. Yonder is the only store that sell cold drinks between Sinsin Junction and Pamutan Junction – a distance of roughly 15-16 kilometers.

We pass by small plots cleared for farming, a homestead and, on a clear glimpse below, clearwater pools of the Maraot Creek good for swimming and bathing. Small tributaries and ravines are alive with water where before were not. The beautiful banilad tree is still standing but it is threatened by clearing. A part of the trunk is being scraped, maybe used for home medicinal remedies. With my AJF Gahum heavy-duty knife, I freed several young soursop trees (Local: tsiko karabaw) of strangling vines. We reach a headrock of a waterfall and we rest.

A path leads to the store above and we believed we would have those cold refreshments soon. At 14:50 we occupy the benches. I pulled out my blackened pots, rice, storm sandals and a dry T-shirt. Wearing something dry, especially, freeing my feet from its wet stranglehold, improves my well-being. Justin takes care of lighting the fires on a “dirty kitchen” offered for free use to us, to include the stocks of firewood. Jhurds provided a kilo of salmon belly. Soon we will have a hot meal of salmon soup (Local: tinola, towa) and rice.

We eat our meal at around 16:00 and it was very satisfying. A hot meal is essential for a body deprived of heat and energy. I had always been espousing cooking over pre-cooked meals. Even though it eats time but a meal is the most important activity of a human being in a day. In the old days and even today, a man has to hunt or find his meal the hard way before he could eat and there are days when the stomach goes on empty. The opportunity to eat a meal then is a blessing unlike today where it is relegated as a consumer product.

We left Cabatbatan at 16:30 and follow the winding road up to Bocawe. Dusk overtook us. Sinsin Ridge and the rivers that we had passed by hours ago are deluged with spectacular scenes of a sunset and a thunderstorm. Darkness had obliterated the vision of never-ending road rises and that bodes well with our psyche. One of my knees do not take kindly to the walking on concrete pavement, much more so, my feet soles. The roads are abandoned and people here sleep early. It is still 18:00 when we pass Bocawe.

In my group are Justin, Jonathan, Jingaling and Marisol. Unseen from us and far away behind are Nyor, Mark and the limping Jhurds. When the big city lights are in view, the morale of the rest begins to liven up. Smile begins to cross their faces yet they do not know that it is still a long way to go. Jhurds pass us by astride a motorcycle with an even bigger smile. He is finally “rescued” by a willing driver. His safety is my main concern and it is as if a big needle had been removed from my back!

We reach Pamutan Junction at 18:45 and we wait for Nyor and Mark. Meanwhile, Jingaling has to leave. Husband called. She goes when a motorcycle passes by. When Nyor and Mark arrived, we six walk the road down to Baksan and then to the Sapangdaku Spillway. I had to shelve the direct route to Guadalupe offered by Bebut’s Trail as it is quite late and our passing might disturb communities. We will go the long way using the road.

We arrive at the Our Lady of Guadalupe Parish at 20:10. I personally congratulated each for their steadfastness and for braving the pain, the fatigue and a hundred other concerns. We immediately proceed to Napolitano Pizzeria to cool down and to end the activity with discussions over cold glasses of beer. Although we were not able to reduce our ETA nor beat the deadline of 20:00, it is okey because all have enjoyed the walk and there was no untoward incident.

But I have another plan for the future. I have seen a possible route to cut travel time and, maybe, I would utilize bread and coffee as our meals next time.

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MAN-SIZED HIKE IX: Sinsin to Guadalupe

I HAVE CROSSED CEBU on this route five times. Today, June 30, 2013, I aim for my sixth. This formidable stretch of rugged terrain saps my strength, tenderizes my foot soles, numbs my knees and exposes my being to a thousand and one worries in 12 hours of walk. Today is no different than the previous hikes here except that another Low Pressure Area is threatening this activity. I have seen worse and I am ready for any rain or heavy rain.

I could not say no to people who have been fascinated of my unusual activities, particularly this route, which is really Segment 1-A of my Cebu Highlands Trail Project. Yes, Pedro, this is requested by popular demand! I have counted nineteen people, aside me, “going” to this event in Facebook and 26 others who are “maybe” going. I really do not trust that application but, I have a gut feeling that there will be many compared from the last time. 

 

That last time was last March 24, 2013 and there were fourteen others going with me. That last time took the zest out of me for I surrendered to the demands of pain and graciously accepted the easy walk on the last stretch down to the Sapangdaku Spillway. I hate walking on roads but I ran out of options as I struggled with my painful feet soles in darkness. I begin to question my steely resolve but it is better that I keep that to myself at that time.

There is one lesson learned when I travel from Cebu City to Lutopan: The bus waste a lot of precious time from my itinerary by silly-dragging itself on the highway from the bus terminal to the corner of the Uling Road! Another lesson is also learned: Motorcycle operators taking you from Lutopan to the jump-off point in Camp 7 charge you than what others pay because you are not from their locality and they enjoy that all the time. Dickheads!

Today, I modified the itinerary. I will take a public jitney instead from Cebu City to Tabunok and, from there, ride another jitney for Camp 7. I not only shortened the time of travel but I have also ensured that those motorcycles-for-hire in Lutopan do not get a single centavo from my party - never again! - and I am now beginning to see the full truth of my schedules.

We leave from Citilink at 5:00 AM with most of the early risers to Tabunok to meet the earliest of the birds there: Boy Toledo, Ernie Salomon and Ramon Corro. These three are old guys and what I like about old guys is they stick to schedules with an hour to spare. We arrive at the old market after thirty minutes and meet the advance party. Everything seems to be alright except the vacuum felt in our tummy. We looked for breakfast and settled at Andok’s.

By now, Silver Cueva, Randell Savior, Patrick Henry Calzada, Antonette Bautista, Dominic Sepe, Maria Iza Mahinay and JB Albano joined our numbers. Aside from Boy T, Ernie and Ramon, those that waited at Citilink and commuted with me to Tabunok were Boy Olmedo, Neil Mabini, Nyor Pino, Jingaling Campomanes, Eli Bryn Tambiga, Jamiz Combista, Kulas Damaso, Mayo Leo Carillo and Bogs Belga. That is a lot of people – twenty – including me.

What have I done? Yes, this is a recreational activity but I got some reservations on the physical conditioning of some goers and I worry that the long line of twenty people will be stretched longer once the enthusiasm loses its sheen before we even reach the halfway point. By that time, it will be steep, hard and, sooner, dark.

We ride on a very roomy public utility jitney which was originally destined to leave at 1:00 PM. The PUJ leave its piece of road at 8:00 AM by virtue of our sizable number and a chance to return to its original place and time with which once-in-a-blue-moon opportunity the driver could not refuse. The PUJ looks like a bus and it looked like some kind of bus that ply the roads of the ‘80s. It maneuvered well the narrow stretches of the Manipis Road which it is famous for and reach the Sinsin Junction.

It did not rain despite the ominous presence of rain clouds and I am pleased to brief all the hikers on the jump-off site. We hit the route at exactly 8:45 AM, already delayed by thirty minutes which, I know, I could overcome easily and tweak my itinerary by test of speed that I could pursue once we reach Odlom and by a very favorable weather. I am very pleased indeed.

Once I reach the river bank, the water have not risen high nor it is of turbid brown. A smile crossed my face that the previous day’s rain have not moved the Bonbon River a bit. The water is cool once I set a dry shoe below the surface but it never gets past my knee even along troughs. Satisfied with what I wished for, I set on downstream, unmindful of two Air Force Huey birds hovering above us.

We reach the place where we used to do our noontime meals at 10:00 AM and I am just too early there or I am just too damn fast. Nevertheless, it is a good place stocked with piped spring water for cooking and washing and I decide we prepare a meal for lunch. Early lunch, I mean. Everyone then retrieve their stoves and cook pots and the food ingredients which we distributed for everybody.

Milled corn and rice were cooked along with chicken sinigang, pork adobao and raw cucumber which Ernie expertly prepared. When the pots are emptied and scrubbed and the stoves are folded back inside their cases, it is time to finish the business of crossing rivers again which the Bonbon will relinquish to the Mananga River downstream of us. It is 12:00 noon and I am ahead of schedule and I feel good.

It did not take that long when I reach Camp 4 at 1:30 PM where the trailhead to the Cabatbatan Trail is located and where the halfway point of our journey starts. Yes, this is the last half but this is also the most demanding stretch. The path to Cabatbatan is intimidating and unrelenting; a string of steps up a steep slope of the southernmost part of the Babag Mountain Range. It is best to remove water from your shoes and socks before assaulting.

As expected, the line stretched and the other half of my party arrived fifteen minutes later. At 2:00 PM, we start the assault. My feet soles which were immersed earlier in water for hours and stepped on too many pebbles and uneven ground along the river bed and banks begin to scream as it step on even the slightest protrusion of ground along that unforgiving stretch of upward walk.

My eyes blinked and my resolve is again tested but I dismissed all the uncomforts that begin to steal my attention. I control my pace to accommodate the untested ones and knowing full well that I also gave myself a good reprieve. The pain disappear when I do that but when I push myself hard, its as if I am in a grinding machine. Better go slow but I have an appointment to catch up and that is the 7:30 PM ETA at Guadalupe.

It is this stretch where the chaff is separated from the grain. The group is torn in half: The fittest eleven behind me and the weaker eight farther away! But, the good thing is, a small store is found at the end of this trail and this is the only place where you could reward yourself with a cold drink and replenish well-used electrolytes.

I reach the store in 45 minutes and the storefront becomes a beehive of activity. Softdrink bottles were quickly emptied and another set of just-opened ones are tilted bottoms up. I opt for a big bottle of cold pale pilsen and shared it with Randell, Kulas and Nyor. By now the stragglers arrive composed of five struggling hikers but under the watchful eyes of Eli Bryn, JB and Dominic. Even when it is beyond my attention, I have people at the tail to do the work for me. Thanks guys!

After rehydrating, it is time to move again and a lot of it concreted or pebbled road. Although I hated concrete, dirt roads threatened my feet soles now. I chose where I step and it is alright while there is still light. Downhill on an unpaved road will be torture to my feet so I go slow when I can and that put a lot of strain on my knees. Running is out of the question. I am not Superman anymore.

The road from Cabatbatan to Bocawe to the Pamutan Junction is winding, long and ascending. Each rise you see ahead will sink your heart and you could only hope that, after each rise, you will be rewarded with a comfortable plane which is almost nonexistent save for a few short stretches. After an hour-and-a-half of battle, we arrive at the junction at 4:40 PM. The earliest I came here in my five previous hikes is 5:30 PM during my third try.

When I think that I have rested enough, we decide not to wait for the second group of nine people. They are safe now and that they are on the road that we have passed by 90 minutes ago. We push on down the road to Baksan and, this time, it is unpaved and it will be dark soon which do not augur well for my feet. Mayo put on a torrid pace and forced all to speed up. Tears of pain begin to well up in my eyes as I struggle to keep up.

The good thing about today is we are too fast and too early for our appointed times of arrival at the different rest stops. When I reach Baksan, I stop to regroup what was left of my group of twenty. For purposes of cutting time and shortening the route, I included Bebut’s Trail. I used this trail on the third and fourth time of this route and it served its purpose well. Today is my first time to walk it with daylight to spare.

I lead and I do it slow and methodical-like. Pain on my soles have increased as the uneven terrain probed me underneath while putting tender foot after the other. Pride set aside my access to a LED torch even when the shadows start to swallow visibility. The monotony of walking in controlled pace at downhill turns numbed the ligaments along my knees. It increased its pain and pressure when I go down “Heartbreak Ridge”. In the faint light, the pain is snapped out from the brain yet the eyes never lie.

I reach the stone steps in the half-light and soon I will be in “friendly territory” and cold refreshments. I reach the Our Lady of Guadalupe Parish at 5:50 PM. I just shave an hour and 40 minutes from my original ETD and so are the ten people with me. Meanwhile, we wait for the nine at the Red Hours Convenience Store and so they came at 8:00 PM. They were true to the itinerary.

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MAN-SIZED HIKE VIII: Lutopan to Guadalupe

IT HAD BEEN MORE than a year when I walked from Toledo City to Cebu City through a route that I had trail-blazed in 2011 and made permanent on succeeding hikes. I have hiked on this for four times with the last on February 12, 2012. This is part of Segment I of the Cebu Highlands Trail Project and have been adopted by the Camp Red Bushcraft & Survival Guild as one of the routes for their selection hikes for new members.

I remembered on my first effort two years ago. Five people were with me exploring this route. It was not easy. I have to do recon and double back and the river bed was like an oven as it is now. I have to read the lay of the terrain, analyze the shadows, observe unnatural movements and peak my senses to a high level for it was then an unfamiliar ground and I have to contend an unexpected peril: flash flood.

Today, March 24, 2013, I am on my fifth crossing and I am with Ernie Salomon, Jhurds Neo, Dominikus Sepe, JB Albano, Silver Cueva and nine other people. Other people I mean are those outside of Camp Red. One of the first-timers is Chad Bacolod who is also my fellow member of the Luzon-based Mountain Climbers Alliance of the Philippines.

This is cross-country walk that traverse the middle of Cebu although, I must admit, that we have to ride motorcycles from Lutopan, Toledo City to Camp 7, Minglanilla to catch on lost time. You know, the bus leave the Cebu South Bus Terminal at 6:20 AM and travel very slow until it reach the corner going to Uling Road where, ultimately, it reach Lutopan at 7:45 AM. Then we have to eat breakfast there and buy food provisions for our noontime meal along the route. We leave Lutopan at around 8:40 AM.

We start at 8:50 AM from Camp 7 and walk up the Manipis Highway to the corner of Sinsin Road, now a part of Cebu City, and take another rest for those who have not snatched breakfast in Lutopan. Finally, at 9:15 AM, we finally concentrate on the hike and follow this ridge road going to Odlom. From there, the dirt road goes down into Buot-Taup, located along the banks of Bonbon River.

Along the way I meet two boys on a wooden cart pushed by another boy. They were all smiles despite the heat of the day. Another set of children played on the dirt, running and jumping over stacked hands. I was just like these children long ago doing what we do best with less. Sadly, unstructured outdoor games are replaced by those coming from an electrical outlet and it is not a healthy lifestyle.

I found the river receding a bit due to the onset of summer. At its widest, I cross it without the trouble of getting wet by stepping and balancing on stones. As I was doing it, it occur to me that my adroitness might cause accident on those who are behind me and I begin to worry that people might get hurt trying to imitate what I do, so I decide to wade on the streams and show them that it is alright to get a wet pair of feet.

Looking out for hidden craters were not difficult as was the last time when water was brisk and deep and we just walk around the holes but careful enough not to tread on the rims. I notice the river banks have been quarried and some parts of the river are starting to get wide by this illegal activities. Landslides occur and bamboo groves and trees are uprooted and fell to the banks and are decimated by residents for firewood.

By 11:30 AM, we reach the place where we are going to cook our noontime meal. Even with the advent of summer, we were afforded of a constant water source that spurt out of a green rubber hose. Everyone make themselves comfortable under the shade while me, Ernie, JB, Doms and Silver show the others how we Camp Red work our meals. We don’t settle for cold meals but make the best food even on a day hike. It might be time consuming for other outdoor clubs, but, nevertheless, our outdoor cooking skills are polished everytime we do this.

We leave our resting area at 1:30 PM bound for Camp 4, still treading the river. We reach a forked branch of the river and the Mananga River starts from here. Water quality on the river is not good anymore here as residents flush all their sewage along the banks. I am very careful not to wade on parts where it is in stagnant form and commence where water is flowing.

We pass by the mouth of Bocawe Creek and soon I will be at the trailhead to Cabatbatan. We arrive at Camp 4 at 3:00 PM and I get disoriented when I missed the landmark and then walk further downstream and I see a bridge. I have not noticed the huge acacia tree and assumed it is further ahead and that is where I really got lost.

It took me another twenty minutes to find the correct place and the tree had been intentionally cut by chainsaws, its remains made into charcoal. Danged cockroaches! Inutile Camp 4 village officials! The tree was just across their building and they never lifted a finger to protect. It was there last year and, perhaps, before I was born and it was a beautiful tree providing shade to travellers.

I look for another comfortable and shady place to remove water from my shoes and socks before taking that ascending and unrelenting trail to Cabatbatan. I wasted precious minutes to look for the now-absent tree since this is the halfway point and we have now a few day hours left. It is a long way off to Guadalupe and it will be dark when we get there.

Chad struggled up the trail but game enough to take breathing rests in between. I see Jhurds doing good as well as JB, Doms, Silver and Ernie while the rest take it in stride and adjusting their pace and carefully controlling their strides to avoid overworking their legs.

This is the crux of the route, an unending ascent of about three hundred meters length where, after that the route cross the upper part of the Bocawe Creek, a kilometer of rolling and slowly ascending trail going to Cabatbatan. Fortunately, there is a small store selling cold soda drinks and I hope the storekeeper is there else it is closed and it would be three kilometers to the next store.

The store is open and everyone gets to quench their thirst with two bottles each of soda drinks. I opt a cold big bottle of San Miguel Pale Pilsen and shared it with Ernie. We stayed a good twenty minutes before we walk again, this time, on a snaking road that rose everytime we reach a rise. We arrive at Bocawe at 5:15 PM as the sun is setting but it still a long way to our destination.

Jhurds is a revelation today: he is with the lead pack. The road goes higher and higher until it reach a part of Babag Ridge where the Pamutan Junction is located. It is a crossroads of four ways going to Bocawe (which we just came from), to Pamutan, to Buhisan and to Sapangdaku (which way we will go). It is now 6:00 PM.

We follow the descending road and it is a torture by the time we walked on concrete. All used their headlights or LED torch but, as usual, I rely on my night vision. Minutes ticked and soon this will be over. I would have loved to hike again over Bebut’s Trail in the dark but the route had been sealed at its nearest approach from the church. I now make a long detour to the Sapangdaku spillway which we reach at 7:45 PM.

Twenty-eight kilometers of rugged terrain under twelve hours of hike is not bad. All fourteen souls are safe. A bragging right for the newcomers yet it is still a challenging route for the repeaters, especially I, wrought down by age and aching bones. This has been the first route I took for this very ambitious project but it is worth visiting this time and time again even with a missing acacia tree.

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