THE THRUHIKE JOURNAL: Day 8 (Mompeller to Mantalongon)

IT RAINED LAST NIGHT BUT it was just light and it saved me the trouble of a disturbed sleep. I thought I saw sunrise but shrugged at the sight and went back to sleep. Regained my senses at the sound of footsteps. Jonathaniel Apurado is busy this early. A pot of boiled water is ready for coffee with rice already cooked. I felt tiredness today, January 24, 2017. Must be the thought of the immensity of the Thruhike and, here we are, on its eighth day, barely making a dent, although we are now on the threshold of reaching the midpoint.

Yesterday was the longest stretch we walked. It was quite a departure from the days after Day One where we pampered our feet and enjoyed well-rested hours. I take note of things which made a Thruhike favorable for me and Jon. We are not young anymore yet we can outwalk anybody when challenged. Aggressive hike is good but it should not be done in a string of several days like most people do when chasing peaks. Their adrenaline rush dull them to dump everything for that perfect moment. These people are slaves to time, gobbling more than what they could chew. It is dangerous.

The Thruhike is not just about walking and moving forward. It is a cerebral activity as well. You consider many factors, seen and unseen. You have to be flexible and decisive when you are forced into an inconclusive corner. You do not think just for yourself but of your companion, the objective and everything that comes your way. Safety and security are given premium over everything associated with adrenaline. The Thruhike is an adventure moment all the time but we are not slave to time, even though we have schedules to observe, and of the brain, which sometimes release adrenaline for no apparent reason.

The itinerary is just a piece of paper. It is just a guide to keep an ordered observance of time but I could radically change it when I see a need like the first day and the yesterday. In between I gratify self with early arrivals and long rests. Would I be able to keep up with the pace of today with injured toes? I would have it treated later. It is a long stretch, maybe more than yesterday’s. I trust that we would, with our breakfast of rice, soup, chorizo Bilbao and coffee and supplements of multivitamins, Guarana and Yakult.

Before leaving, we visit Junnie Estimada whom we knew from last time. He is quite a fellow, intelligent despite his humble upbringing, had been to so many adventures when he was a younger man. He earned street smartness while working as a wash boy for a taxi company in Cebu City in the ‘60s and learned to drive one on his own. Later, he drove buses in Cebu and then in Mindanao. In Cotabato, he drove for a cargo company and was into the middle of many skirmishes during the MNLF secessionist war of the early ‘70s. He returned with his family here after retiring from his job at the Dole Pineapple Farm some fifteen years ago.

The Thruhike is about meeting local people who have stories of their own and this makes the Cebu Highlands Trail unique. Since Day One we have met many people and these interactions would be the main course of a future book about this Thruhike which I would someday write. Telling about them and their lives would give the CHT a different perspective, so different in a way, of how the usual long trails are viewed at. Here, in the CHT, there is more emphasis in showing kindness, patience, charity and love for, without such, you can never absorb acceptance.

We start Day Eight at 07:30 under mild weather with showers. We stuck to our northern course and soon came upon a very muddy part of an unpaved road. Motorcycles filled with passengers are in a quandary finding navigable furrows which would soon be flattened and widened by cargo trucks. Walking people are voicing out their displeasure at government for acting so slow. They requested us to post our pictures of this road condition in social media so something could be done immediately. Several stretches were turned into morass by trucks as it transfer from one highway into another highway.

The unpaved road that linked two highways wind about into breathtaking views of the wide lowlands of Dumanjug as we enter into Bae, Sibonga. Finding a good signal, I was able to notify the Sibonga Police Station of our Thruhike. The two solitary hills that we saw yesterday in Tulang, Argao are now in our midst. We reach another village of Papan, Sibonga before stepping on a paved highway that linked coastal Dumanjug to Sibonga coast. We followed it uphill going by way of the latter and soon come upon near a corner where there is a sign announcing that we are entering Manatad, Sibonga.

We entered another road, just a few meters walk, and another sign showing Libo, Sibonga. This is the place where we were supposed to be at yesterday. Saw an empty bench for a good place to rest and rehydrate from the almost two hours of non-stop walking. It offers an endless view of a beautiful valley. The weather is still mild and cloudy. We followed another road where there is another sign displaying Cagay, Sibonga and then another about Basak, Sibonga. The asphalt road is narrow with few vehicles using it like three-cylinder Suzuki light pickups but, most of the time, by motorcycles. This is another scenic stretch that gives value of the Thruhike.

We pursue our course to Basak and stop by a store to cool myself with a cold bottle of RC Cola. This is a common rural store that doubles itself as refilling stations for motorcycles. Part of what they sell is gasoline displayed in one-liter glass bottles of Coke. The owner is a peace officer of the village, Monico Iñigo, and he is busy loading his farm produce of bitter gourds and tomatoes into separate baskets so he could bring these to the town market. He asks of our ID cards and I gave him also my calling card for keeps as well as a CHT sticker.

The asphalt alternated with an unpaved one most of the way and it wind its way upward into lonely stretches. The weather is cloudy but mild. We cross into Candampas, Barili for a while before we found our feet walking again in Sibonga, The road passes by a community with beautiful gardens until we reach a place called Lamak, which is now part of Mayana, Barili. It is 12:10 and perfect time to observe noonbreak. We are now at the midpoint of Day Eight.

I munch on four pieces of Park N Go bread, three Tiger crackers, three Titay’s Liloan Rosquillos, a Nutribar and my mixed trail food of nuts, raisins, marshmallows and coated chocolates. These are paired with cold bottles of RC Cola. A Herbalife Natural Raw Guarana capsule is added to my simple lunch. Then I sent a text message for Barili Police Station informing them of my presence and my route. For the first time in the Thruhike, I lay on a bench, closed my eyes and pretend to sleep. The effort is good enough to freshen me after 30 minutes.

By 13:00, we proceed north and reach the boundary of Napo, Carcar City after an hour. I shoot another text message for Carcar City Police Station. The asphalt road goes about weaving a tight valley of strip farms, chalky cliffs and verdant hills and almost no houses. It is a lonely highway and the silence is only broken by just a few motorcycles. It goes down and up several times and I liked its solitude for it opens up the mind to accommodate many thoughts and enlightens the spirit. It also pushes the brain to block pain that are felt on the body.

This black road that goes through beautiful places is long and it goes through some parts of Guadalupe, Carcar City until communities appear and a school in a place called Hunob. I found the trail that will traverse the highlands of Carcar City and, later, would lead me to the Mantalongon Livestock Market in Barili. The day was warm but windy. Approaching Hunob, there was a light shower and it drenched me wet to my skin, including my socks which were nursing a blistered toe each.

I was walking in pain for the past three days but this day my shoulders felt a soreness that was felt after that light downpour in midafternoon. I tried to remedy that by shifting the placement of the shoulder straps of the bag which I had been doing so for sometime on the last five days. I think all my shoulder areas had been made tender by the stiffness of the bag’s shoulder pads. There was a flaw with its design which I first encountered during the exploration hikes in Segment VI, VII and VIII but it was not that irritating because these were just 3 to 5 days walk where weight diminishes by the day.

I would not mention the maker but I am exploring the idea of replacing it when I reach the halfway point of the Thruhike. The problem is I do not have the funds to procure a better one. What I have are the Silangan Predator Z, a Habagat Viajero, a Doldy VCS 30, a Lifeguard USA and a couple of army-issue duffel bags. All of these are either just too small to carry things for the Thruhike or are these designed for efficient organization of the items to be carried. I have another much bigger Habagat Venado II but it is already retired after 20 years of service.

My eyes betray the pain that I kept for so long but it is hidden by the dark sunglasses that was provided by Zue Fashion. We arrived at Mantalongon Livestock Market at 15:40. The honorable village councilor, Willy Muit, had been waiting for us and, once he spotted us, led us to their village hall. We were met by the honorable village chairperson, Ursula Daquil, and assigned us an upper room to use for our night’s stay. It was a tiring day but the people of Mantalongon made it sure that we were comfortable while we were in their place. Even personnel from the Barili Police Station arrived to give us support while documenting our presence with photos for their community relations program.

We have running water and bathroom for use and electricity to charge our batteries for Jon’s camera, my Lenovo A7000 smartphone, our Cherry Mobile U2 basic phones and our Versa Duo VHF radios. Although I have a Canon IXUS camera, the self-contained camera from the Lenovo A7000 would provide the images that I would send in real-time, or near it, in a social networking site for the benefit of our sponsors, friends and followers. The Cherry Mobile U2 is favored by members of the Camp Red Bushcraft and Survival Guild, which we both belonged, because it floats on water at IP-6 rating and could function in any rugged conditions.

When not propagating signals, the Versa Duo VHF radio could function as an FM receiver and could provide us entertainment and relaxation when we are in urban billeting areas or in campsites. The rest inside the Mantalongon is most welcome. I would change my moist Kailas socks with that of an Under Armour socks for tomorrow. The base of each toe are not good to look at and demands immediate medical attention after our supper of Korean spicy noodles and rice. The skin on both left and right shoulders are red but there is no pain as pressure on skin surface is relieved by rest.

We were not able to cook our supply of food since a local peace officer decides to let us partake of food prepared for his daughter’s birthday. We appreciated this kind gesture very much for it changed our routine fare of spicy noodle soup every dinnertime. We will carry surplus food instead for tomorrow and it would be a long hike, perhaps much longer than what we hiked today. The blisters have been treated by Doc Jon with medical supplies from our own first aid kits. I felt a sense of security as I lay on the floor behind a big desk. Toned down MP3 music from my Cherry Mobile U2 brought me closer to Lady Starlight and after the third song I turned it off.

Distance Walked: 23.72 kilometers

Elevation Gained: 598 meters and a low of 162 meters

Document done in LibreOffice 5.2 Writer

THE THRUHIKE JOURNAL: Day 7 (Balaas to Mompeller)

THE SIX DAYS OF THE THRUHIKE HAD transformed my body into a lean athlete of long ago that was almost forgotten in the recesses of my memory. The mirror on the wall did not tell a lie today, January 23, 2017. Was I happy? Of course, yes. Would that mean, I am happy of our daily diet of Knorr soups on breakfasts, baked products and energy bars during lunch and spicy Korean noodles for suppers? Yes. Breakfast of Knorr soups does not mean that I have the same one flavor everyday. There is chicken, beef, mushroom, asparagus, crab and corn. We simply add shreds of dried squid or dehydrated seaweed to enhance its taste if we find it too boring.

A capsule each of Enervon Multivitamin and Herbalife Natural Raw Guarana and, since Day Five, a bottle of Yakult Cultured Milk, complement breakfast and coffee. We just had our supplies replenished and we carried this load up and down the route yesterday to here in Balaas, Argao. These are supplies worth six days and today we would continue on our journey north until we reach Cebu City on Day Eleven. It is a long way there and there are still obstacles to overcome. The greatest of these is local acceptance of our presence.

The Cebu Highlands Trail is not just about dramatic scenery of mountains and valleys, of a healthy environment, and of self-ingratiation, but it is also about people. Remember that upland communities were isolated for many years until an obscure road opened them to many opportunities but, for lowlanders, especially living in the big city, these places are unknown. Those who frequent here came with their SUVs and these are seen as arrogant and aloof like rich landowners who came to collect what was theirs or politicians who promised better life or deceiving like carpetbaggers. New faces are treated with suspicions due to a bad memory of a failed experiment on peasant struggle.

It is a challenge for me to meet people who have bad memories and you have to be honest and sincere. A smile and a greeting does not convince them. You have to spend a few minutes with them. Talk is what they want and to learn new ideas and things outside of their place. Majority of them do not understand the idea of hiking, camping, backpacking and that sort of thing. They cannot understand why we are walking when we are supposed to be awash with cash since we live in a city? They would even offer to pay for our ride on a motorcycle so we would not suffer walking under the brunt of the sun hefting a big bag. Would you not love to meet these people and make life so simple? Here they are, on the route of the Thruhike.

As much as I love these beautiful moments of local interaction, it is sometimes annoying when they mistook you for a travelling vendor of goods. A lot of them would innocently ask what you are selling or would wonder what is inside your bag? It is not confined in one place but it is everywhere since Day One. I could not blame them. I am carrying my Therm-a-Rest in a rolled bundle across my front with the label of the plastic sleeve still new. Then in one hand, I am carrying a plastic bag with bread, Yakult bottles and the antenna of the Versa Duo radio protruding. The only lowlanders who visit here on foot are sweaty vendors which fit our description.

What makes people accept us is translated better by giving them something valuable. No it is not money nor expensive things. It is something that they will keep and would give them an income although a few minutes of honest conversation made them smile. I am talking about my 30 pieces of Indonesian pepper given to me by a local in Camburoy, Samboan during Day One. This variety grows into a shrub and would last long than an ordinary pepper and can be used as an ornamental plant to decorate your lawn since the fruits are bigger and looked like Christmas light bulbs. I am practicing the new gospel of “pepper diplomacy” which elicit a laughter from Jonathaniel Apurado.

After thanking Hon. Ricardo Gonzaga and the people of Balaas, we begun our journey to the next destination. It is 08:10, a sunny morning but still mild. Soon it would be warmer. We doubled our pace since we will be going extra to Libo, Sibonga. Our early arrivals of the past three days in Nug-as, Alcoy; in Mantalongon, Dalaguete; and in Balaas were a necessity, to prepare ourselves for this day. I do not know if we could accomplish this but I know I have a safe card, in case I fall short. Planning a Thruhike is not easy. I planned this like I am engaging in a war campaign. Trust me, I am good at this.

I have accomplished 22 percent of the Thruhike and we are inching towards the halfway point in Cebu City, that thing in the itinerary called Day Eleven. Today is the seventh day and tomorrow will be the eighth. I had recorded all the places, the dates and times, the people we met, the weather, the meals and other prominent events in my journal after every supper. I have crashed the items found on the itinerary and on the food plan when we got past the places and made some necessary corrections when I changed the order of things.

I packed in an extra SD card and an extra battery for my Canon IXUS to make my photo documentation uninterrupted. I have a charger set for my Lenovo A7000 smartphone so I can give uninterrupted real-time, or near it, uploads of photos which are essential so I could update my sponsors, followers, friends and my wife. I have also a separate charger set for my Cherry Mobile U2 basic phone to give our updates to the police stations, my wife and our base support team. To ensure the phones’ continuous power in case electricity is scarce, I carried two power banks for such emergencies.

The road is unpaved, passing by Linut-od, Argao, with upland rice terraces appearing from beyond the edge of the road and seemed almost endless. The farms are fed by irrigation coursed through natural springs coming from a source above us. Cebu is fortunate to have such rice farms located in upland areas like Argao, terrain difficult enough from being converted into a cockfight arena and other uses like one whimsical local government unit is doing to its valuable self-irrigated agricultural lands. I could not just understand why?

I arrived at a landmark in Butong, Argao where there is an ancient sacred fig tree growing. I could not determine its age but it is estimated to be around 600 years old. Behind it is a natural spring which fed a concrete tank filled with clear bluish water. The overflow from the tank fed more rice terraces, more than the eye could see. A local once told me almost two years ago when I passed by here that this was where most prominent families in Argao and neighboring towns hid during World War II.

Walking among the highlands of Argao under cloudy skies is wonderful. The road passed by lonely stretches yet so picturesque and rustic until we come upon a crossroad where three roads connect at a place called Bayabas, a part of Cansuje, Argao. There is a public market nearby and there are stores and small restaurants. But it is still 10:30, too early to take a noonbreak. As I was taking photo of a man splitting logs with an axe, an old local asked me of what wares I am vending. Smiling at that expected question, it becomes a duty to update Joven Heyrozaga of our activity when answers beget more questions.

Finally, seeing the good purpose of our walk and learning that I have had a meeting with one of their distinguished sons – the Honorable Governor Hilario P. Davide III – before I embarked on the Thruhike, it becomes moot and academic. The furrows became a beautiful smile, friendly and helpful as he sees a picture of me and the governor in a photo saved in my Lenovo A7000. We went on our way, our hearts ever emboldened, by the show of goodwill. The footfalls becomes light, we sped from one scenic stretch to another until our time told us that it is time to call a noonbreak.

We halt at a junction in Alumbijud, Argao. The village is famous for the baskets woven from the stems of the red finger fern or “nito”. Their best weaver is an octogenarian and it is a dying craft. I saw a local woman, pushing up and down the lever of an artesian well many times to force water up a spout and into her pail. It is already 12:00 and the spot is perfect. The woman is Flavia Algones. She goes to Cebu City every Wednesday afternoon to sell her farm produce at Manalili Street during night and returns home every Thursday. She is washing her clothes today in preparation for that.

After an hour, we bade goodbye to her and hiked up a road where, when reaching its pinnacle, we were rewarded with a marvelous view of a wide plain shared by the neighboring towns of Ronda and Dumanjug. Across this low valley is Sibonga and its prominent Tres Sierras Range. From where I stood, it looked very far and almost impossible to reach with just less than four hours of government daylight hours. I do not know but I have to try. It is all downhill now and I know we will be passing by the villages of Tulang, Anahaw and Mompeller, all in Argao, before crossing into Sibonga.

The distance was just too great and we arrived at Mompeller at 15:00. Although, I still have enough time to cross over to Sibonga but I would not force the issue this time. I have to be realistic. I do not want to overstretch ourselves to work beyond what we are used to. We have heavy cargoes and I may have to concede a slight setback to save the Thruhike. I realized I have erred in my itinerary this time. I have underestimated the distance. It caused blisters on both toes. I will let ourselves be rested early so we will live to fight another day.

It took me a day to cross Argao from one end – in Balaas, to its other end in Mompeller today, just like the Segment III Exploration Hike I did in February 2015, only it was done in reverse. The honorable barangay chairperson, Evangeline Sarsauga, did not expect us to make a night stopover here in her village but she learned beforehand of our Thruhike from their tourism officer, whom I have briefed in early January together with those coming from other municipalities at the Museo Sugbu. She and her staff were very helpful.

We were welcomed and accommodated in the same unfinished structure we slept in two years ago. We procured a 5-gallon bottle of drinking water from a water distributor nearby for our hydration and cooking needs. Jon cooked spicy noodles with a sprinkling of horse radish and shreds of spicy squid and complemented the soup with fried slices of chorizo Bilbao. There are no cellular phone signals but there is a local FM station broadcasting a few Cebuano songs in between long commercial breaks.

Mompeller is agriculture economy as is most of the other villages of Argao, which in itself is the “Rice Granary of Cebu”. Nowhere else in the Province of Cebu, that I see so much land dedicated for the planting of rice except in Argao. It lined the Salug River, following the gentle contours of the valleys. The name Mompeller, might have came from the original spelling of Montpelier, which is French in origin and quite so sophisticated to pronounce for a thick Cebuano tongue that it metamorphosed into its present form.

The village is silent as we ate supper. The highway that traverse over the mountains between Ronda and Argao is dimly lighted. Towards the coastline, a bulge of clouds were lit up by flashes of lightning announcing its ominous presence. The night is cool. I lay on the concrete floor but my Therm-a-Rest pad made it comfortable. Thank you Michael Schwarz for providing comfort for my Thruhike. There was no unexpected arrival of people like the last time and we were glad it did not came. We are prepared for tomorrow.

Distance Walked: 17.61 kilometers

Elevation Gained: 703 meters and a low of 286 meters

Document done in LibreOffice 5.2 Writer