ADRENALINE ADVENTURE HIKE: Segment I-A

THE CEBU HIGHLANDS TRAIL, is best appreciated in segments. But Gian Carlo and Sheila Mei of the Adrenaline Romance Blog, thought of it otherwise. Why not walk it in half-segments? Although I have tried it (and completely forgotten that I did) but, I believe, it is STILL a wonderful idea. Two weekend days. Overnight. Yeah, why not?

Segment I, the most intimidating of the eight segments, because it goes up and down through three separate mountain ranges, cross two major river systems, and break your will huffing and puffing while carrying your load for 4-5 days. I have walked it straight but once only last November 2017 and, if only it would be possible, I would not walk it again that way.

 

Why not break Segment I into two sub-segments like I used to during the exploration phase of the Cebu Highlands Trail and, unintentionally, during the Thruhike of January-February 2017? Why not indeed? Frankly speaking, it benefits me well. The two-day hike removes the stress that the third, the fourth and, maybe the fifth day would give to a person.

Why not? Why not? Oh, why not? Thank you Adrenaline Romance. You just gave me an idea how to safely proceed about the segment hikes of the CHT. This blogging couple, is one of my supporters during my 27-day Thruhike. They even provided me a replacement bag – a 50-liter High Sierra Titan – halfway in my Thruhike after a local bag created problems on my shoulders.

Gian Carlo and Sheila Mei, in one of their articles, choose the CHT as one of the seven destinations in their bucket list for 2018 but they do not want to hike it through for they simply do not have a generous time in their lives, they, being company employees. They fund their trips from their hard-earned salaries and write about it in Adrenaline Romance.

Their blog is what kept them going. The couple made mincemeat of any difficult challenges and obstacles and what becomes of it are well-written essays of their adventure experiences. They are into rock climbing, scuba diving, caving, mountaineering, snorkeling, canyoning and, of course, blogging. They walk the talk and, for that, they influence people about adventure destinations and activities and what gear and equipment you need.

Gian Carlo and Sheila Mei are product ambassadors of Deuter and Se7en Outdoors, a local apparel provider. Aside that, they are honorary members of Project Blue, an environmental advocacy organization. The couple, from to time, gets invited to cover events and services with their famous blog as medium like Bluewater Resorts, Trexplore, Bellevue Hotels, to name a few.

But, today – February 17, 2018 – their quest of the CHT starts on this early hour at Ayala Terminal, Cebu City. I would be their guide and we will be walking from Mount Manunggal, Balamban, to somewhere in the Transcentral Highway in Cebu City. Sounds easy but it is not. Not because it is difficult terrain, but because of my unreliable memory. The CHT is a product of traditional navigation. No GPS coordinates. Just memory only and it wreaks havoc on your itinerary!

The van-for-hire dropped us on a corner where there is a feeder road to Mt. Manunggal. Astride motorcycles-for-hire, we arrive at the famous parking lot of Manunggal. We checked our bags and retrieve items that we need for the hike. It is like a ritual. At 08:00, we go down a path that leads to the campsite where there are tents and people. We simply pass by going to a trail that these campers know not.

No, it is not a secret trail. Locals use this trail once in a while. Only a few hikers walk this trail. I am a regular here and I once walked it alone on a Good Friday. I talk as I walk and Gian Carlo and Sheila Mei were laughing as I told them my encounter of a big snake on this path. I jumped downhill out of fright, rolling and panting. Who would not? It travelled alongside you!

The path goes through second-growth forest and an original forest that clung to the steep rocks. The ground is muddy but we walk on firmer parts. As I walk I also talk about plants. An unusual vine bear oversized beans. I did not know matchbox bean vines (Local name: gogo, bayugo) grew here. It is so huge! Showed them rhododendrons (yagumyum) and Asiatic bitter yams (kobong) and explained what they for are.

Once we got past the forest I showed them a speck of white on a trough between two hills. It is a saddle, of course, and it is our next destination. It is called Inalad but it is pronounced as Ina-a-a-ad. The quirks of Cebuano vocabulary. We will arrive there at noon and we do not have to hurry. They were shocked at my casual disregard of distance.

I have to take it slow. I am nursing a fever. I have to honor a commitment and I must not let them down. Also, they must not know about my condition. Slow is better. We must not hurry or we get stressed out. It is a long day and tomorrow is another long one. I must conserve my strength for tomorrow for it is much different than today. Patience would win the day for me.

 

We go down into a grassy and open field and entered another forested but very tight path among rocks. Rock surfaces are well-polished by water and I take them so super slow here. I am wearing my Hi-Tec Altitude low-ankle shoes and I developed a certain level of trust on this pair. My High Sierra Titan bag looked heavy with a rolled Therm-a-Rest hitched underneath it.

On the other hand, the Adrenaline Romance pair wore their Deuters and the bags are almost like a part of their physical bodies. They move with it without any extra effort. They are good product ambassadors and Deuter did not err in choosing them. They looked also great with the CHT t-shirt made by Silangan Outdoor Equipment.

The trail goes into farms and we meet one family trying to wiggle themselves out of a path that was choked by a falling tree. Some of the higher branches and twigs have blocked the way and the children and women have to squeeze through with difficulty. The mature male among them, equipped with bolos, do nothing and just let the weaker ones manage themselves.

When they were gone, I break off the twigs and slimmer branches away from the trail. The bigger ones, I stepped on and put weight to break it in two. I am used to this work: Clearing debris in my playground at Camp Damazo and doing trail maintenance. Of course, I have with me bigger blades then. On this hike, I have only a Mora Companion, a Victorinox Trailmaster and a William Rodgers Bushlore, which I did not use.

We arrive at a homestead and rest for a while. It is 10:00 and we did good. We are now  halfway down the mountain and in about a half hour we would be on the shores of a stream. To celebrate that, I asked from Sheila Mei to part a chocolate bar to a shy small girl that had been spying us from a window. She goes to school far far away, up and down this mountain. They are deprived of little comforts which urban-bred ones take for granted.

After a rest of five minutes, we proceed down the trail, passing by little streams and more homesteads. Once, I stopped on the path to study a trail of a farm animal. It is the one made by a swamp buffalo and there is only a single line of hoof prints. I quizzed Sheila Mei about this anomaly. Actually, there is another set of hoof prints along the outer edges of the path and it could not be easily seen unless you study it at a different angle.

We arrive at the bank of the upper Lusaran River. This is one of the three major river systems of Central Cebu and it flows out of Balamban to the Tañon Strait. We will cross this stream five times and will have to remove shoes and socks. Walking barefoot on the sandy bed and on sandy banks made a soothing effect that removed the kinks in our nerves. It is a wonderful feeling.

Walking on solid ground once more, we met the first of the many animal farms tethered on to trails, most of these have their young with them. We met two cow families while going to Inalad, where we arrived at 11:30. That is 30 minutes early despite the deliberate slow pace. Inalad is a marketplace and the boundaries of Balamban, Toledo City and Cebu City converge here. We took lunch on one family-run restaurant and enjoyed siesta.

The 30-minute nap was good enough for me. The fever is almost gone save for brief dizzy spells. At 13:00, we leave Inalad for a feeder road that goes all the way to Tongkay, Toledo City. The village is located on the bottom of the valley and Sheila Mei bought a few vegetables there but failed to find a common ingredient: lime (lemonsito). We also filled full our water containers, renewing the weight we lost to eaten food and to rehydration.

We cross the uppermost Hinulawan River where it drained to the man-made Malubog Lake. We follow up a path that rode the back of a ridge. It is very warm, the sun slaps hard at your right, the part where the mountain is almost bare. Gaining more elevation, we come face to face with a bull, standing over the path. I make grunting sounds and the bull gave me space but regained that space immediately after I passed.

It created a bit of a problem for me. The bull refused to vacate when Gian Carlo and Sheila Mei slowly approached. Both made a difficult detour on a very tight space where the ridge is narrowest. My heart trebled its beat when the bull approached the duo. Unexpectedly, the bull slurped Gian Carlo’s hand instead. What a close call.

Once I reach my old campsite, I break off the trail and follow a narrow path that led to a hillside farm. A slight drizzle begins to appear and it elicits a frown from me. I hope it does not rain hard. The path disappeared when I got past the plowed field and blazed across waist-high grass to reach a ridge, which led to the present campsite. We came 90 minutes earlier than what was indicated in the itinerary and we are just walking very slow.

The slight drizzle became light rain and I have to set up a shelter over a space reserved for cooking. My hammock can wait. Gian Carlo and Sheila Mei found the shelter convenient to set up their dome tent nearby. Pouring drops of rain fell from the shelter eaves and I have to wait when rain begins to disappear. Winds added chill to the situation.

At 16:30, the shower stopped and there is still a lot of daylight. I hastily set up my hammock between two trees. Then I transferred my sheet from the cooking area over my hammock. The campsite is on a cleared ridge where a forest claimed the other side. We eat our supper early, availing of daylight. The grounds and vegetation are wet and it begins to go cold. We turn in early at 18:00 and the hammock felt warm.

I awoke at 21:00 hearing great gusts of wind roaring from below the valley. It never affected us. In fact, warm air dislodged from the valley floor by colder wind made its way up to our camp, giving us a comfortable night. This micro climate will stay for a few hours and would soon dissipate. I have noticed this phenomenon in my older camp down the mountain.

I feel good rising early on the second day – February 18. The long comfortable sleep was most welcome for my body. I did not feel any effects of fever today and that is good news for me because it would be a challenging task for me later. After a very early breakfast, we break camp at 07:00. We follow the path up a peak and show Gian Carlo and Sheila Mei, a big hole on the very apex. I believe this was used as a mine vent.

Beyond the peak, we follow a very narrow ridge that led to another peak – Etwi. The landslide that blocked the trail below Etwi had been cleared and it led into another narrow ridge that led to Maraag, a part of the Sudlon Mountain Range. A concrete marker bears information that this is now part of the Central Cebu Protected Landscape.

At Maraag, we savor a bottle of softdrink each and munch a few stale bread. After ten minutes, we proceed to the “hog’s back” (buko-buko sa anay) on a paved road but switched to a feeder road for Panas. I surely marked the place of the trailhead I took last time in my mind so that I would not miss the route to Bonbon again.

The trail is well-beaten but once you get past homesteads it becomes narrow. Some of it pass by scrubby grass that grew persistently despite being trod by many feet everyday and you get the impression that a trail do not pass by here. We cross the headwaters of the Bonbon-Mananga River System several times and these are brisk clean brooks.

It always excites me to walk this stretch because it keeps my mind to work and think, to read the right track from the false ones, and to study the terrain with much concentration of thoughts. These things make up traditional navigation so honestly demanding from even the most trail-savvy traveller. The changing contours here are themselves very demanding.

After four hours of walking, I am rewarded of an arrival in the last homestead in Panas that was a half-hour early than that found on my itinerary. We were not hurrying. We were just in a strolling pace, most of the time stopping briefly to talk about a plant, an outstanding land feature, previous observations, local attitudes, scenery and landmarks or even the shape of a hut. There is a clean water source here and we take some.

We rest for about five minutes and then proceed on, following a trail downhill to a forested part. I try not to miss this trail this time and it is well-marked in my mind. The route inside the forest is steep and slippery. Too few hand holds and most of them were unreliable taro stems and abaca trunks and springy vines that break at the first sign of force.

We arrive at the rocky bank of Biasong Creek and follow it downstream. We walk for about a half hour when I found a perfect spot to stop and prepare our noontime meal. It is shady with a wide sandy beach. Sheila Mei cooked our food with the butane burner and we proceed with lunch and a few minutes of rest.

 

After an hour, we are now fully rejuvenated and proceed on with the last hours of our journey today. The couple was amazed at the clean water of the stream as well as beautiful spots good enough for river bathing. Ahead of us is the sound of rushing water falling in a high elevation but we are deprived of its presence since it is impassable from our location.

We go over dry ground, this time, skipping the sheer obstacle and, from our new location, caught limited glimpses of the not-so-known Bitlang Waterfall. The trail put us on the part of the stream where there is another branch whose mouth is choked with humongous rocks. May God bless those souls caught up in here during a flashflood. It is a meat grinder.

Downstream, Biasong Creek gets tamer and tamer as black PVC pipes competes space with rocks and debris. These pipes channel water to communities and a local resort. We arrive at the resort and outside it is another local unofficial resort. We cross the last of the stream and walked again on dry ground to a store in Biasong selling cold softdrinks. We deserve that.

After fifteen minutes of rest and snacks, I followed a different direction this time given by a local as shorter than that of going to Bonbon and we do not have to cross another stream. Okay. Goaded by local knowledge, we followed a paved road and it seemed to rise forever. It did go downhill going to the St. John Marie Vianney Parish in Maomawan, but it goes up again.

 

We finally reach a place named Tugop, which is a part of the village of Babag at 16:30 but there is something wrong with the new route I took. It is much tiresome compared to the older route and there is but little difference in distance. It was recommended by a local because they travel nowadays on motorcycles and it is very convenient for that kind of travel. But, for walking? Nah.

Well done Adrenaline Romance, you made it this far and, on many times, bettering the itinerary by 30 minutes to even 90 minutes. Amazing! You have proven your steadfastness and your commitment to the first of the many that you would soon impose on yourselves. This is no easy walk but you are rewarded with scenery that was denied to most people and the experience that you could better describe in your popular and highly-rated blog.

The mysteries and idiosyncrasies of the CHT would simply be laid before you once you set your sights on the rest of the paths. You are on the right track to that quest and there is no turning back. Happy trails...

Gian Carlo and Sheila Mei wrote about their Segment I-A experience on their Adrenaline Romance Blog under two installments:

 Cebu Highlands Trail Segment 1A: Mt. Manunggal to Mt. Tongkay
  Cebu Highlands Trail Segment 1A: Mt. Tongkay to Tugop
        

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Photos courtesy of Adrenaline Romance

A MOUNT NAUPA STORY: Second Visit

I RECEIVED A TEXT MESSAGE from someone I do not know asking for a guide. Of course, I always receive the same kind of messages and they are regular, sometimes annoying, but I have to reply, nevertheless, even if they do not push through at the last minute. But this one is a bit different. They are very insistent to visit Mount Naupa. The peak is found in Naga City, Cebu and it is not on my usual haunts. I camped there once though upon an invitation back in April 2012.

We settled on a date – it is to be an overnight – on February 10 and 11, 2018; and agreed on my professional fee. My asking price depends on the difficulty of the terrain (it is easy – 2/9), the length of walk (a kilometer maybe) and the number of individuals (31 – too many). Doing the math I come up to something less than what you would have expected. Believe me, it is LESS. Since it is a massive climb, I have to have an assistant and I settled on Christopher Ngosiok.

I do not mind parting a considerable amount from my fee for an assistant. What I am after is satisfaction of a client by providing them good service, to include their security and safety. Christopher is one of the best assistants I know. He is a registered nurse and knows everything from self-defense to wilderness first aid to bushcraft and survival, even blogging. Yes. We do maintain blogs because we have tales to tell. Real tales and not some fancy K-Pop contents.

This is one of those times where I have to look the other way when it comes to managing and guiding people up a mountain. As I said before, this is a “massive” climb. There are 31 individuals plus Christopher and me. The most I would do in ordinary circumstances is lead not more than ten people. The trail to Mt. Naupa, however, is a well-beaten path. Besides, it passes a quarry site that got overgrown with vegetation.

Despite that, Naupa is still a very popular destination for weekend campers. Locals take advantage of the numbers by selling food and beverage, perform some kind of service (fetching water), or exact disturbance fees when passing by their properties. I would not mind if our presence improved their life economically. Let them be. After all, they appreciate your visit and help made their living worthwhile.

We arrive at the trailhead a little after 15:00 on the first day (February 10). I am not familiar of the trails here since the first and last time I was here, I was walking in darkness. Darkness as in no flashlight. That is my signature. However, the trail is easy to follow as it winds among the hillsides and going up to a community where there is shade. I was assured that the participants were briefed properly of what to expect today.

All the hikers worked in one business process outsourcing company and I believed it is a company-sanctioned activity. “Team building”, as some would call it. I do not know what is inside BPO company operations nor have I any idea how people worked inside that same environment. But I do know that these people needed some outlet to let go of stress since BPOs operate, most of the time, on a graveyard shift.

The last stretch is a bit steep but it is very manageable. We pass by a fenced house and there is a log book to register the names of visitors. They also require you to pay a fee of some sort because you are passing by their property and so have disturbed their landscape and their serenity.  Beyond is the trail to the campsite. Two enterprising locals lets you choose either of their own staked grounds.

 

Both campsites are exposed and have no forest cover. I discouraged their leader of camping on a high ground and so we choose the lower of the two. We do not need a high location to ogle at exhilarating scenery. What we need is the least exposed ground so the campers can be comfortable. It is cold out here during nighttime, mind you. Everyone set up their tents. Good!

I looked for my own location and found one beside the only tree that was left to grow here, although a bit stunted. I used the trunk as anchor for a shelter ridgeline that goes to an upright stick that was held taut by the line to a buried peg. It is a textbook ground-hugging simple shelter designed to offer less obstruction to the howling winds that would come later at midnight.

Foraged dry firewood along the extremities of the camp grounds. I would not worry about the wind on my fire. I would make one inside a Swiss Army wood burner. A very efficient equipment, I would boil water for my customary afternoon coffee and, later, for my meal of Japanese miso soup. I paired the soup with bread provided by Christopher as I joined him near his tent.

The campers cooked food after dusk. The evening wind goes colder now and the warm food helped to stave off the slight chill. At 19:00, their leader called everyone and they begin to form a circle. A team-building activity began to unravel and the company was very lively and sounds of laughter began to dominate the circle. I kept a distance to give them privacy.

While I was talking to a storeowner, I noticed many locals coming over the hill on the back of us. I learned that another set of campers are staking a campsite on a faraway mountain across us found in Lanas. I also learned that the campers were doing a medical-dental mission and all the village peacekeepers here were detailed there leaving none to watch over us.

I noticed earlier that children were roaming on our campsite and they were still here at such late hours while a new set of campers arrive after dusk. These were locals who are on an excursion of their own. This one is livelier than ours and they have bottles of local brandy with them. They even carried a portable sound system and making so much noise with that unpalatable “budot” music which they danced with so much feeling.

My campers might have noticed that these newcomers are beginning to get rowdier by the minute that they started to disperse and made their way into their tents. I watch over this group, not in any way entertained but observing with utmost vigilance. They camped about five meters away from our farthest tent and their bad drunken behaviour might cause friction from our side. Their distasteful music already had. Budot! I hate that sound.

Christopher was also in a vigilant mood, watching these drunken locals from beside his tent. The clock ticked at 21:00 and it is getting colder and I need to be away from the wind for a while. My shelter offered no resistance from the cold but it shielded me from wind chill, which is good enough. I may not chase a good sleep in this setup but it is enough to keep me half-awake to keep tab on that rowdy crowd.

As I go back to the store, I noticed some children sleeping out with nothing to protect them. I asked them why are they here and they said they were from Lanas going with the older ones to that other campsite on another mountain. More locals came but they just pass through on their way to that other campsite. The spectacle of tents and camping are already a big thing with these children and is a form of entertainment for them.

The noisy locals ran out of brandy but they buy more from the two stores on the campsites, this time rum. I just watch them and praying and hoping that they would tire out. The more I do that, the more intense their revelry without any consideration to other people trying their hardest best to sleep through their mayhem. Budot music, who the hell likes that? Good God tell me, please.

Seeing my futility to hear them subside, I go back to my shelter at 22:30. Staying out on the cold without a jacket was just too much. Although I have my own flat bottle of rum from the store to warm me up, I do not intend to add another bottle just to keep me on this idiotic vigil. My shelter was most welcome when I finally lay down on the thin laminated sheet that I used as a ground sheet and a ground-beholden hammock as another layer.

 

I awoke an hour after midnight and I could still hear that foolish music and people talking in toned down voices. The latter were the campers I accompanied and a few of them were still awake. The dancing devils are still alive burning with their dervish music laughing and merry unmindful of other people trying to chase sleep. These people I am with worked in times when you are happily snoring and they deserve their rest.

I tried to catch sleep once more but I could not. It is so cold. Fogs have clasped the campsite in its grip and breathing in colder air melted away my resistance to cold. Even as I wear my shoes lying down with a cloth covering my head and ears. I lapse into unconsciousness once in a while but waking up now and then shivering. I thought I missed something during those moments. Budot was gone. Good riddance!

 

I wake up on the second day – February 11. The campsite is still asleep. I stoked a fire one more time in my Swiss Army wood burner. Boiled water for coffee and, later, for Japanese miso soup. Warming up and making subtle noises, I successfully awakened half the campsite. Sounds of zippers reveal poking sleepy heads into daylight. They asked me to lead them to the peak.

We follow a trail over a bare grassy saddle and up to a still forested ridge that goes steep over rocky paths. Ah, the view that matters most to all: Sunrise and “sea of clouds”. I doubt at the latter but it was there an hour ago when they were all asleep. Sunrise really mattered most and the warmth that came with it. It is a blessing after a long cold night and budot music.

 

After breakfast, we break camp and started downhill. Our noisy neighbors were very quiet. In an hour, the campsite would be scorching hot for want of a tree. Good luck to them. They need that. That would be the best time to play their unintelligible music and sweat it out. We arrive at the trailhead and motorcycles are waiting for us. I let the campers go first but making sure they are properly seated.

Christopher and I were the last to arrive at Tungkop, Minglanilla and everyone are all accounted for and safe. The hikers are quite satisfied with their weekend experience even with that annoying budot music. That kind of music associated with drunkenness is not welcome in my playground. Then we all take a KMK Transit bus bound for Cebu City.  

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