NAPO TO BABAG TALES LCV: Unconventionals

I ALWAYS IGNORE THIS trail whenever I do a reverse of the No-Santol-Tree Trail. I find it unnecessary to go over a peak in order to go down and climb another one. Why make life difficult? Common sense always win over me. On the other hand, this particular trail was not here when I embarked on an exploration frenzy around the Babag Mountain Range in the years 2008 to 2011. I just noticed this in 2012.

Anyway, I promised my adherents at the Camp Red Bushcraft and Survival Guild today, May 10, 2015, that we would be doing some little explorations in the hills between Kalunasan and Sapangdaku. I have not even thought of this trail when we begin from the trailhead at the Kalunasan Road. We are fourteen people – all men – and it is a very warm day. It is already 08:30 and not a very good hour to start.

I stare at this trail and I begin to get interested. I would have to drag my feet though to make life comfortable for those who are not used to walking rugged terrain or the lack of it. Behind me are Camp Red regulars Jhurds Neo, Ernie Salomon, Jerome Tibon, Dominik Sepe, Eli Tambiga, Mayo Leo Carrillo, Nelson Orozco, Justin Apurado, Bogs Belga, Mark Lepon, Jonathan Apurado and Nelson Tan. A mix of the serious, the amusing and the outrageous.

Most are in their best earth-toned clothes and bags and we looked more like spec-ops guys instead of colorful gadflies. Gadflies? Well, we see them from time to time usually on the parking lot of Guadalupe church or in our favorite dirt-time place and you would not know if there are males among them. Well, today, I do not expect to meet any of them, much more so on this trail in the heat of the day.

I look up the trail and I barely see green. The trees and thickets have wilted and are opaque brown and in different shades of it. Worse, the hillsides are scorched by grass fires of a few days old! So on we walk with sparse shade on a ground that is loose and dusty. I forced myself to move like a snail. The strongest walkers are impatient behind me but we are not in a race. We are in a humanitarian hike. It is humanitarian to be kind to the slowest walkers, is it not?

We reach a point where there are two tamarind trees. It could barely give a shade. The NST Trail branch from here while this trail that I am planning to explore is on another branch. Right now it is beckoning me up. I clear the path of dry wood and other debris. I do not want an accident. People tend to overlook a lot of things when they are subject to fatigue and heat which they could have noticed when under good conditions.

I have not carried a big knife although I open carried a smaller knife but it is of no use against dry wood. You simply cannot hack and slash with it. With both hands, I drag the wood one by one, moving it on the side of the trail. It is difficult because these are dried branches that have tangled against each other and I have to use considerable strength which I am supposed to be conserving.

Being generous of your energy in a harsh condition like today would drain you faster than you could recoup it. The secret thing here is you do not overexert. The dust rise as I drag the dry wood to the side while maintaining good balance on a steep terrain made difficult with loose topsoil. Good thing I have covered my head with a “krama”, a checkered clothe popular in Cambodia which Jonathan had given me a week ago. I looked like a fierce follower of Pol Pot of the Khmer Rogue.

We pass by a couple of tamarind trees that had been cut down a few weeks ago. I still could not comprehend why some people cut down fruit trees that had given them an income for some time? I remembered the 51 sacks stacked higher than a standing man along the road that we passed by an hour ago. I let go a sigh of frustration and stare heavenward. Up ahead is a lone whitelead tree (Local name: biyateles) surviving a grass fire. One half of its foliage is green while the rest are scorched.

I reach the top and it is shady. It is 09:30 according to my Guess watch. Wow, I cannot believe it took me one hour to reach this place which is just about 300 meters in length! I am indeed humanitarian. The place is a ridge with another ridge going southeast. I notice an orange paint sprayed on a trunk of mango. So, this had been used as a race route. Anyway, this is a good route for runners but just be careful going downhill.

I waited for the rest and I am sure where I would go next. Up ahead is the steel hulk of a transmission tower looming above the trees like an alien machine and the trail goes there. The guys take a rest and begins their conversations. I ventured alone to that other ridge to have a look. It goes downward to a series of lower hills where, I believed, there is a community. I go back where the rest are and proceed to the tower.

The ridge is planted with mango trees and I see traces of chemical-spraying activities here: orange-colored rubber hoses, blue PVC water barrels, small water pumps hidden under tarpaulin, paper with Arabic literature, ropes, bamboo ladders and empty pouches for chemical compounds. Over the side are plots of roses, another plant that people shower with generous amounts of chemical. Ferns thrived under them mangoes while algae are growing fat on their branches and barks.

I go down a saddle where the steel tower is located and go up to the rest of the ridge. Immediately, I see the route where I had taken my team last January that led me to a cul-de-sac filled with a forest of roses. It was some mistake which I do not want to repeat. We go up where there is a farm shed and shady trees and then I heard water.

I begin to look around and I see water pouring out of a black PVC pipe into a big hole filled with clear water. It is clean. There are small fish (gurame) swimming in it and some golden Japanese snails (kuhol). I wonder where the water came from because it flows very briskly in this mild El Niño. I look again at my watch and it is now 09:45. I decide to make our “dirt-time” here. The place could accommodate us all and a different place would induce good conversations and plans.

So we find places for our backpacks and begins to disembowel it of our pots, knives, tools and the food ingredients which we will prepare and cook here. We gather dry firewood and tinder as we set up our fireplace. It was quick. Fire begins to appear. Water are plenty. We could use it generously in our cooking but there should be coffee first. Even on a very hot day, warm coffee is very welcome.

I see another hole where water flows from a green rubber hose. Water is cloudy and is not of good quality like the first. Jonathan and Justin set up hammocks near this hole. Bogs and Eli cut the meat, onions, potatoes, cucumbers, green pepper and a vegetable pear with a Mora and an antler-handled knife made from Sheffield. The second knife is a gift given by Alan Poole of the United Kingdom to me. This is the moment where it will be tested.

Ernie concentrates on the fireplace while Mayo, Mark, Nelson and another Nelson assisted him. Jhurds secretly pour cold Pepsi in a cup while Dom and Jerome secretly are in a middle of a personal discussion. When all these guys are not doing something, they swap places and strike conversations with anybody. It is a healthy atmosphere and I am amongst them taking photos or testing equipment like my new knife and a Suuntu MC-2 Mirror Compass given by the same donor.

I found this place a very great campsite for a “Survival Day” activity – if ever its water source is working all the time – and there are bamboo groves nearby. Although quite shady, it is not a good idea to make camp at the top of a hill because it is exposed to winds and you get easily skylined. Instead, you would have to set up shelter down a saddle where there are mango trees because bushcraft is about blending with the landscape.

By now, the food had been cooked. As always, another kingly banquet for hungry bushmen. After a prayer, the boodle-fight starts. Open for decimation are grilled pork sliced in bite sizes; “pancit” - a popular noodle meal; steamed potatoes; rice; and a side dish of raw cucumber dipped in spiced vinegar. Many trips to the food had found me full and the dining place a puzzle of blank spaces.

There were some food left and a kilo of uncooked rice which we left to the farmer's wife who unexpectedly came while in the last parts of our lunch. Then we begin to clean the dishes and pots and pack all the things into our respective bags. The journey continues. We go down the hill into copse of mangoes where the trail wind among it and crossing other trails. I post familiar places but my adventure juices prefer the unfamiliar ones.

I take a route going south and east and south and west, passing by a long narrow ridge, then standing below another steel pylon. I end up on a flower farm and a farmer shows me a way to the rest of the path. It curves into another ridge that goes down into a dry waterway and a small marshy area thick with birds of paradise. The route goes down once more into a stream, which I later understand as the Sapangdaku Creek. We cross the stream and come unto a small flat valley.

We all take a rest here since it still 14:00 and very shady. Jhurds introduce me to a woman living in a single-room house with a small child. She carries a surname Labrador and I remembered her at the Roble homestead last December where we had an outreach. His husband is away but I could not dismiss the good location of this place. It could host a good number of people as it is not a fragile environment and can be used as a bushcraft camp.

The place is called Kangsi. It is nearby a stream and a natural spring. A small rainforest is across it with groves of bamboo and is perfect for a plant ID lecture. The Napo Main Trail is just above us and this makes it friendly for bulky people and senior citizens. I walk to the water source and fill my bottle. When I got back Mayo is doing something with a discarded but still green bamboo pole while the rest are hitting a target with their catapults. I lend mine to make it five.

Jhurds is carving a bamboo to make sheath for a local boy who carried a knife with a flimsy cardboard one. He secured two pieces of bamboo with packaging tape and gave a piece of his paracord to tie the sheath with knife to the boy's waist, eliciting a thankful smile from the boy. Meanwhile, Mayo made bow limbs and another shorter piece to support the longer one. He is making a Penobscot bow. This type provides good power for an arrow if used with ordinary wood, in this case, bamboo.

For almost a good two hours we made the place into another playground but it would not be our last here. For sure, we will be coming back. I like the place and I would like to spend a night here sometime. We leave for Napo at 15:45, following a route that goes downstream. This is a difficult route because it passes by water and it causes rocks to be slippery. Besides, I never like to walk along streams.

Ultimately, we reach Napo and made a mad dash for Red Hours, our favorite water hole. It was a good day. Our little exploration snared us to two good places that make our patented dirt-time as good as those we spend most often. It was a good time also to prepare the rough cuts extra sharp for the Philippine Independence Bushcraft Camp this June.

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NAPO TO BABAG TALES LC: The Team Finals

FROM NINE PEOPLE WHOM I had invited to join my selection in establishing a team to explore the route for Segment III of my Cebu Highlands Trail Project, five made themselves available for the challenge last January 4, 2015. It was a tryout of sort and I was considering the five to be on the team, in one way or another, but I need only two slots.

It was a moderate route that tackled Tagaytay Ridge head on from Sapangdaku Creek and then taking a long loop, tiptoeing over Babag Ridge and down again to Sapangdaku Creek until we ended the day at the trailhead in Napo. The rain that had caused trails to go muddy, soft and slippery, made it more hard. All persevered and made my selection for the team difficult and complicated.

Today, January 11, 2015, however, will be different. I would be expecting four of the five to be at the meeting place in Tisa. The fifth candidate would be in a foot race and would not be available at Tisa but I considered the absence justifiable. On the other hand, only two candidates physically came. Well and good! That would make my selection easier now. Even before this day’s hike would commence, the two had comfortably snared the slots. Congratulations! Although, it would still be the manner of how both will finish this hike.

So, after a light breakfast at Mang Tinapay, we leave Tisa at 07:00 for the trailhead over Riva Ridge Subdivision. We will be following the complete route of Freedom Trail, a route that I had last walked on June 11, 2010. I do not know if some stretches of the route are still existing but I do know that this is the mother of all travails that I had concocted on the Babag Mountain Range.

Fortunately, the climate played into my expectations. There is a thick cloud blocking the rays of the sun as I gaze from the trail on Tisa Hills. At this hour, the sun will start to scorch you senseless on the bare slopes. It was smooth sailing for us that I have given in to the temptation of exploring another route that would bring me closer to Kilat Spring.

My 5.11 Tactical Series Shoes played true to its billing and had never given me problems on water-polished limestones which my other shoes had. I cross a cleavage and go on up Banawa Hills, passing by parched farms and stopping to examine a small chapel with a small statue of the Holy Child. The ground underneath a mango tree is swept clean, indicating that there is a thriving community on these forgotten places.

In a week, the whole of Cebu will celebrate the feast of the Señor Santo Niño de Cebu and the chapel is being readied as well and, I believe, the common people living here would celebrate with the rest. Their faith keeps them going and they persevered on these unkind slopes but it is their home and that is where they get their strength to survive. I am just amazed at these poor simple folks, toiling under the sun on soil as hard as rocks.

We move on and cross another cleavage into a rare flat land that is home to stunted rows of horseradish. Grassland pitas (Local name: maya) swarm the air when it notice our presence. I enjoyed the spectacle that I kept them flying with a loud clap of the hands. I pursue Freedom Trail into the higher elevations and then I switch to a path that led to Kilat Spring.

I meet an old woman with a bundle of long sticks above her head. I presume, she came from Buhisan and she carried that uphill for, maybe, about 30 minutes. Oh God, she is strong but coughing bouts showed weakness in her health. Tears well on my eyes that she still had to do this labor so late at her age when she is supposed to be resting and taken cared of by her relatives. I know that life is sometimes unfair but God will never turn a blind eye on her. I am sure of that.

I walk on and somewhat assured that I would be walking down the lee side of Banawa Hills. The natural spring is devoid of people. We took the occasion to fill our bottles full with its pure water. After that, we proceed for the Portal at 09:00 and, I believe, it would be a short walk to there. By 09:30, we are passing by the place, intending to reach our next stop in another 30 minutes.

I reach Baksan Road and walk the concrete pavement uphill in warm sunshine. I need to reach a forgotten trailhead at 10:00 and I am beginning to doubt it because of my sudden exposure to sunrays which slowly demoralizes me. But, as I was recovering from the heat under a mango shade, the clouds again interfered. I hasten my pace and reach the trailhead.

I finally sat down on a knee-high concrete that marked the presence of a drainage culvert underneath and the trail just across. We took the opportunity to munch on a piece of bread. Yes, we are training in survival hiking. We will not cook a meal like I used to do with the rest of the Camp Red Bushcraft and Survival Guild because, during Segment III, daylight hours would be precious and we need to cover a lot of ground.

I am applying to the candidates what I had experimented many times: bread and water. One bread if bloated with water afterwards, would give you enough energy for a good two hours to tackle difficult terrain. For moderate terrain, about 3-4 hours. This is the first of our rest stops. I had bought six cinnamon bread and I eat only one. Sweet, yes, and overindulgence of which would not be good for your health but I need glucose to give me that energy boost.

I face the path that lead to Arcos Ridge with dread because I do not know anymore the condition of the trail. I discovered this trail in 2009 and incorporated this into that Freedom Trail that I had talked about. I notice smoke ahead – charcoal makers! Walking on slowly, I see a man helped by his two little kids arranging wood in a hole. They did not notice my coming and were startled by my presence. To diffuse their anxiety, I gave six little cupcakes to the two children and I am rewarded with smiles.

We proceed on and I face now a wall of thick vegetation where, before, was a path with strips of little corn plots beside it. Arcos Ridge is a thin piece of ground that starts from Baksan going down into Napo. About a kilometer long, more or less. It is very steep on the whole side facing the Sapangdaku Creek and on some sides towards a part of the Lanipao Valley.

I always open carry a big knife in all my outdoor pursuits and, today, the AJF Gahum heavy-duty knife claimed that honor of worthiness. I hacked a path through thickets and vines which hinder our passage. I did not do this blindly because you would veer away from your intended route. I checked out the landmarks to guide my progress else I would fall on those steep slopes. This is traditional land navigation at its best and I was slashing for about 40 minutes.

The work with the knife would have tire me out were it not for the cloudy skies shutting away the sun. I got a firm hold of the path I made and I am rewarded with the first of the several tamarind trees which I remembered shaded me during my previous visits here. The trees became my guide posts until the first signs of a trail appeared as the terrain cant down. It is steep but it is the trail. Slowly and methodically, I reach Arcos Creek. It will drain into the bigger Sapangdaku Creek somewhere near Napo.

I cross the Sapangdaku and intentionally immerse my shoes in the water to get rid of the caked mud which it got during last week’s initial training. Then I climb over the riverbank and into the campus of the Napo Elementary School. It is 11:30 and we buy cold soda drinks to pair it with our bread. I eat two pieces. I begin to feel better now but, I think, we need to spend a brief but well-deserved siesta in the school.

By 13:00, we continue on. After crossing a footbridge, we follow the trail to Lower Kahugan Spring, reach it after 30 minutes, and then refilled my bottle. I look at the skies and it begins to darken. Rain is threatening our hike. I pushed myself harder because of that when I made my move towards the Roble homestead and suffered for it by resting often on the trail.

At 14:30, I reach the house. I could not believe it that I am able to reach it in less than 30 minutes. Probably some 25-26 minutes because we rested at the natural spring for a refill and lots of breathers for me. The fastest I did was 28 minutes but it was done downhill! I take a seat on the bamboo bench and close my eyes to keep my body still for it was shaking like an overworked engine.

I plead from Fele Roble three pieces of green coconuts for the three of us. I drank the refreshing liquid of the fruit and opened it with the AJF Gahum to retrieve the meat with one hand for my nourishment because I needed it most for the hardest part of the journey. For insurance, I eat my fourth bread and washed it with water. It is still a long way and a lot of it are uphill.

I walk slowly, not forcing this time, even though I am pressured by time. I rest to take breathers when I need to and I could not count of how many times. It was torture and I begin to entertain thoughts to end this hike if I reach Mount Babag and hire a motorcycle to whisk me down to JY Square and sanity. To reach the topmost ridge, 45 minutes is unrealistic although I have done it long ago.

This time it is different. It brings back memories of that 2010 Freedom Climb starting on the same place at Tisa. I was carrying a big Habagat Venado II then, which contained all the items of my house. This time I am carrying a smaller Silangan Predator Z that contained the things that I would need during Segment III. By 15:30, I reach Babag Ridge. I blinked at the feat I just made. I think I am crazy and I need a break!

I would have taken a shortcut on the shoulder of Mt. Babag but it had been smothered by a construction work. I may be crazy but crazier still are people who bulldozed mountains when they begin to think a piece of the mountain as their property. This land belongs to the government and is considered timberland. The most you could do is just possess a title declaration or a timber lease agreement but you could not develop and construct a permanent structure on it. Period!

I walk on and grumble on the way until I reach a small store. We stop to buy cold softdrinks and eat our bread. (I ate my fifth.) I am refreshed and I now believe that I could finish this circuit and begins to disregard that exit plan to JY Square. For almost an hour we walk the road until I reach the trailhead of the No-Santol-Tree Trail which would lead me to Kalunasan.

Thank God, this is all downhill. The bad news is it is already late afternoon and soon it will be dark. The trail had improved a bit, I suppose. The last time I passed by here was on the dawn of Black Saturday 2013. It is also very slippery here but my new shoes keep my footing stable. This is really a good pair. I make good progress and come upon familiar landmarks which says I am in the right way.

As I was traversing the rest of the trail, I am tempted to explore a trail that Ernie Salomon had wanted to try. I begin to follow that path but, contrary to what Ernie had believed, it went instead to the direction of Napo. I looked for an alternative route to find a short cut that would intersect back to my own NST Trail. It goes down to a flower farm and then a dead end. I saw a glimpse of a path far down and I studied the terrain carefully.

I thought I saw an easy way to get there but I misjudge it. It was not easy but I chose a Hail Mary chance and it brought me to a steep gully. Debris are choking it but you have to be careful where you step. The rocks are slippery since it is wet but you have no choice but down. It is already gloomy as the last hours of the day are sinking. Going down I see bamboos and bamboos meant people. People always gather bamboos for housing materials.

My hunch was correct. Bamboo poles were harvested recently and left all around. I used the long poles as a bridge to transfer to another spot. I crawled, balanced, slid and even squeezed painfully my holy balls to initiate a good progress. I finally found the headwaters of Lahug Creek by accident and this is no mean feat in an unholy hour. The waters are clear but I remembered the flower farms were using pesticides. Blue traces stuck on their leaves.

The light of the setting day is getting dimmer now but I am walking downstream over boulders and then I saw a path going up. This is the trail I saw earlier from the flower farm, I reckon, and my heart beats faster with excitement and so are the footsteps behind me. We ready our LED lights but we did not use it. In the dim light the path is very clear like a ribbon of creamed coffee. I use this opportunity for night navigation training instead for the duo.

We reach Kalunasan Road at 18:00 and there is nothing more to do but eat my sixth bread and walk its long length to Guadalupe. We arrive at 19:15 and conclude our journey at Bikeyard Coffee where Aljew Frasco, Bona Canga and Christopher Maru joined us. The remaining two candidates with me are now officially part of the Segment III Exploration Team, along with another, who excused himself because of a commitment, and two others as Base Support Crew.

That was a blockbuster of a route and it was long and hard. We all deserve the slots for we persevered and survived on bread, water, coconut and soda drinks. This was just the start. We will be doing this same routine for four days of February as we walk Segment III and – soon - from Segment IV to Segment VIII. The Cebu Highlands Trail is a demanding route and no one had taken it yet but me and my team are undaunted. I will walk into the sunset with my team and we will leave a legacy.

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NAPO TO BABAG TALES LX: Night Navigation Training

PEOPLE GET A FEEL OF excitement when they hike up the mountains during night. Some do this for fun; others do this because they have to; and a few do this to train themselves. Except training, all rely on the battery-powered flashlight and they all go up to their campsite destinations in a long chain of lights, a wonderful sight to behold from the eyes of a startled toad.

The battery-powered flashlight, which have developed from a low-voltage incandescent bulb to halogen to light-emitting diodes (LED), is the standard equipment of a backpacker and it is a good option to carry an extra. The LED have multiplied the ordinary bulb’s lumen power a hundred times over and changed the name of the flashlight into a torch. Credit that to technology.

However, when you use a torch, there is one primeval function that you inadvertently choose to ignore and disregard. It is not one’s fault though but this is an instinct that have evolved through constant use in the past by our earliest ancestors and have, likewise, declined through neglect, through our dependence with modern technology and through ignorance.

This natural night vision is developed to great advantage by nocturnal hunters. I am not a hunter but I prefer to use my eyes to work my way in the dark. That is a fact. I have led people on the trails many times and, by situations beyond my control, commit them to walk in the night. Of course, they used lights but I advance my natural sight to good use on myself.

Night Navigation Training is taught in the mil but I am fortunate to be taught by them. Like water, knowledge should meander down and be taught to others and when it does I make sure my people at Camp Red Bushcraft and Survival Guild are given priority. Actually, NNT is one of the skills that is highly valued in bushcraft and survival. However, I am generous enough to welcome members from other outdoor clubs or anyone willing to learn upon my invitation or through referrals.

Ten new participants arrive at Guadalupe in the late afternoon of Black Saturday – March 31, 2013. They are Antonette, Patrick, James, Mario, Nyor, Silver, Maria, JB and a couple of guys. Most of them have never tried hiking in the mountains under a pale moonlight. Old hands Ernie, Dominikus and Eli Bryn will assist me in this activity. I give a short overview of NNT and final briefing before proceeding.

We start from Napo, Sapangdaku at 7:00 PM. I advised the participants to use their flashlights when crossing streams and when in doubt of the ground where they are going to tread at. Always fix a certain celestial body as reference when the moon have not yet risen. By the way, the moon waxed full last Holy Thursday and is still bright tonight although it may rise later at 8:30 PM.

Our pace is slow. Deliberately done to control the brain from sending the wrong signals. We arrive at Lower Kahugan Spring at 8:00 PM and proceed to refill water bottles. Sooner, we will be at the place where we will prepare, cook and eat our dinner. Camp Red prefer to eat their meals fresh from the cooking fire.

We leave the spring after a brief nocturnal hunting along the river and I lead them to a steep switchback and, at exactly 8:30 PM, we reach the Roble homestead. We are welcome anytime to prepare our meal at this place and make noise at that certain hour of the night. We begin unpacking things to retrieve our food ingredients.

I start the cooking of the milled corn while Dominikus boil water for coffee. Meanwhile, Ernie begins to prepare an assortment of palatable dish like pork adobao, pork sinigang, swamp radish salad and fresh-water crabs. Silver cook red beans and JB fry dried fish. The rest help in the slicing of the pork meat, vegetables and spices underneath the silver sheen of the moon on the landscape.

In between, I show the participants how to look for Polaris using Big Bear and True South through Cygnus, the Southern Cross. We eat our supper at 10:00 PM. This day is my last day of fasting. I do this every Holy Week and I should have broke my fast at 6:00 PM but my commitment to teach NNT precedes over my gut. We leave the place for Babag Ridge at 11:00 PM. Nevertheless, NNT should proceed without haste.

We follow the East Ridge Pass and I could see clearly the trail. The fogs covered the moon yet it is still bright enough for my eyes to see. Rest is given to those who toil and everyone give their best to ignore pain, fatigue, unfamiliarity and that primeval fear of the dark. Safety in numbers negate that fear and those who paced faster wait for those who lagged.

We arrive at Babag Ridge at 12:00 midnight and everyone take a rest to recover their breath. We walk in almost daylight speed to the top. Wow! The brain must have to do something with this. The fogs are not that thick and it is around twenty-three degrees Celsius. We walk the road down to Babag I and then up to the trailhead a kilometer-and-a-half away.

The last half of our journey will be downhill and it is perilous. The moon is on the downswing of its orbit and it may disappear anytime behind the mountain range. This time I encourage everyone to use their lights and provide walking staffs to those I think who need it most.

This trail to Kalunasan is seldom taken by me and I always have trouble remembering my last route there even during daylight. The night presents a bit of a problem for me this time so I arm myself with a heavy staff. I could use it as a weapon, a probing stick and as an anchor to stabilize my downward pace.

The No-Santol-Tree Trail is a route that I have discovered four years ago based upon the description of a local about the presence of a santol tree (sp. Sandoticum koetjapi) that marks the trailhead. The moment I looked for that tree, it is nowhere to be found, and I got lost as well, walking in circles obviously wanting to satisfy my exploring spirit never knowing that I found a different path.

I have limited control this time and this is the most difficult part of the activity and it is where the old hands come in handy to keep watch of those that are beyond my scope of vision. I have to use my small LED light as well. I remember I slipped here many times last year. Vegetation is much thicker here but I am not worried because I have a torch and a new pair of Columbia Coremic Ridge 2 shoes which I am testing.

The shadows play on my brain and I begin to doubt at myself. The route I followed seems unfamiliar leaving me lost for a while, then I detoured and I persisted until I see a hint of a faintly-familiar bend in the trail that led me to a more common contour. I am the navigator and guide and I use my trailcraft skills to the max despite the deceptive appearances caused by shifting shadows.

I cross a low saddle that lead into another ridge and, this time, I know where I am going but the going is not easy as I have expected. The path have been obliterated almost by thick growth due to non-use by people and I hack the vegetation with my wooden staff to part a way and to shoo away anything lurking there.

Meanwhile, the peaceful night is shattered by blasts of firecrackers in the distance. A religious activity signifying the Resurrection of Christ has just started. I wait for the slow walkers and give myself a break. The trail is very misleading and I would prefer that those behind me are very visible from those much much behind. I walk as if without purpose just killing time so that those from the tail end could catch up.

Satisfied with the pace, I cross several arroyos – dry waterways – where loose broken rocks and detritus accumulate in an unstable manner. I arrive at the first of the many tamarind trees found along this trail. I reach a copse of tamarind trees and rehydrated. I rest and wait for the participants to arrive. One by one they came and welcomed the opportunity to sit again after many hours of walk.

We finish the walk at 3:30 AM and it is still dark. We decide to walk back to Guadalupe on the road and reach it at 4:30 AM. We have come and walked from the dark mountains of yesterday to greet Easter Sunday and it was a great sacrifice. Osiyo!!!

TIPS FOR NIGHT HIKING:

• Night is different than day, caution should be exercised.
• The walking stick is very useful in night navigation. Not only it could aid you in your balance and a counter to gravity, it could be used as a probing stick and a weapon.
• Check night sky fixtures as your reference. It will aid you in your general direction.
• When using your natural night vision, refrain from switching on your torch. The glare of unnatural light destroys your night vision. If it does, switch off the light and close your eyes for ten seconds and blink several times afterward to fine tune it back.
• Use your peripheral vision to great advantage. It is that part where you could detect movement and the details of the trail which cannot be detected by a frontal sight.
• Use your light when crossing a stream or when you are in doubt of the part of the path before you.
• Do not play in to your brain. The brain receives signal from your eyes and tenses the muscles and release more adrenaline. Heart pumps more blood and would need more oxygen. You hasten your pace and you gasp for air and you become fatigued. Save your energy instead as you are not chasing someone in the dark.
• Walk very slow. Take your time.
• Walk during full moon or at least where the moon is not less than half.
• Wear visible clothing.
• Prepare a route card and leave it to your base support crew, a friend or to the authorities; and indicate the time when you will arrive and to notify them.
• Train in a controlled environment.

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NAPO TO BABAG TALES LVI: The Battle of the Bulge

I CAN FEEL THE ADDED weight and I am not comfortable with it. The month of December had pampered my stomach and intestines so much that my bodily desire to crave for more of the fats and sweets that I have been regulating for the past eleven months had gone out of hand. I have added girth that my favorite pair of Mammut hiking pants is rendered cabinet-bound.

The result of a hundred table feasts had made me uneasy and I have to push away the nagging feeling of just being lazy and being near the kitchen all the time where my wife cooks tasty concoctions. Got to say NO today – December 30, 2012 – and prepare myself for battle for the year 2013.

I have got to train again this early before it is too late and I set my sights to my ever wondrous Mount Babag where, I believe, is sufficient to give me this challenge. Others got wind of my plan (and predicament) and make themselves available. So, I will share the trail today with Randell Savior, Dominikus Sepe, Ernie Salomon, Wil Rhys-Davies and Mr. Bogs.

When I arrive at the church grounds of Guadalupe, Ernie and Mr. Bogs were already there. Then my cellphone got busy telling me to wait for a Dom, a Jungle Wil and a Randell. Okay. Fine. Whatever.

I carry a 40-liter Sandugo Khumbu bag and it has a stove, fuel can, a small pot, a skillet, a stainless steel cup, spoon-fork set, an extra shirt, my EDC, my tomahawk and my fire kit (just in case). I feel that the whole weight is inadequate for training so I buy a kilo of rice and two kilos of pork meat.

The added three kilos will be my training weight and I don’t need to share it to the rest and I will dispose of these when I reach the abode of the Roble family as my post-Christmas gift to them. I also buy fifty-pesos worth of bread for Manwel, Juliet and Josel. It is good for the heart and the spirit to share something and do exercise on the side.

Would I need to eat breakfast before I start the hike to Napo? The better of me got the good answer and it says NO. It is already 8:10 AM when we all walk the asphalt road to the highlands of Cebu City. The weather is fine although it would be hot pretty soon when the heat would dissipate away the early morning clouds that hover over the mountain ridges.

When was the last time I walk this road? Ah, I remember. I was alone when I walk here to the Roble homestead last January 29, 2012. I was bringing seeds for planting then. Today, I still bring seeds. I have with me five nuts of the tabon-tabon tree (sp. Atuna racemosa). This is a native of Mindanao Island and it is used in processing raw fish as a dish.

Anyway, I practice my scant English with Wil who never leave my side until we reach Napo. From there we cross the Sapangdaku Creek and follow it upstream by walking on the trail high above its banks. It rained yesterday but the ground is firm although a few muddy spots are present which we simply walk around or step over.

It is almost ten when we all arrive at Lower Kahugan Spring. I add another kilo to my back by filling my one-liter Nalgene bottle full. Now they were discussing which way to go but I tell them that I am on training and would rather take the hardest route which is the one that passes over a flower farm and which is facing directly the sun. What bravado! Let us see.

From the creek I lead the way and when I reach a mango tree my resolve begin to wilt. I gasp for air while my “love handles” weigh now like elephants. A tell-tale cramp on my left upper thigh poke my senses. Recovering my tattered sense of pride, I block those that have plans to overtake me and pushed myself up the hill and that danged shade-less flower farm.

Inhaling deep I begin crossing the exposed hillside and glad to have reach a shady part and, this time, I let the others go past me. Above me are more flower farms and I am now more comfortable with my pace with nobody behind me. I am the last to reach the big mango tree where houses are found underneath and I relish the coolness of the place.

I would have stayed long but Jungle Wil do not like that idea and I need to wake up from my stupor. Well, got to push my sorry ass now and save me some semblance of dignity. Obviously, I got the heaviest backpack and what made it worse is I carry a lot of unwanted bulges in my waist now and this is a serious battle. Yeah. I am serious!

My going is slow and I can see the others moving far ahead. When I reach a lot of shaded areas, my disposition is improving a little. I do not have to chase the air for my nose and the tell-tale cramp begins to disappear. From time to time, I see Mr. Bogs ahead in the same predicament as mine but I try not to notice so he would not force himself to work double.

Finally, over the horizon, I see the big tamarind tree. Underneath it is the Roble homestead and my friends should be there by now making coffee. The last stretch would be hot so I conserve my strength for this moment. It is now or never and I give my one last good puff of rested breath and I am there after a great effort of ignoring pain, heat and weight.

I got hold of the bench post and how I am glad that the nearest bench is empty. It is shaded and the bamboo seats are very cool and I immediately let go of my backpack as I momentarily closed my eyes to savor at this luxury. Wow, I could go on like this and not move but I need to retrieve the goods that I intend to give to the Roble family.

Yes, I got it and I bring the rice, the meat and the bread to the house and give it to Fele. His wife just arrive from their farm up another ridge and she showed a smile of gratitude and thanks. That’s all I need to keep my spirit moving and it’s a good feeling. Now, time to get my steel cup for that steaming coffee.

Ernie begins his magic on the cooking while Randell, Dom and Bogs take care of the milled corn. Me and Wil are engaged in a long conversation about the possibility of putting up a wilderness skills school. The green coconuts arrive and so is Manwel. Ernie is able to finish the mixed-vegetable soup and pork adobo and we progress to eating these as our much-awaited lunch.

After an hour of rest and pleasant conversations, we bade goodbye to the Roble family and proceed to Babag Ridge. Jungle Wil lead the way while I follow him. We are now climbing the Babag East Ridge Pass. It seem that I recovered my rhythm. Blame that to the lighter weight although I get to carry eight cobs of corn that Fele’s wife gave me.

The progress to reach the ridge take more than an hour. I am a bit disturbed that there are now barbed-wire fences where there were none the last time I climbed here. A no entry signage is now found on the short cut route to Manwel’s Peak. People are now getting greedy, I guess, and they are falsely claiming land where, I know, are classified as timberland.

We walk the Babag Ridge Road under the noontime heat but it is cooler here since it is above 600 meters above sea level. By the time I see a landmark where the trail to Kalunasan start, we separate from the road. I lead while others follow. I see the steep trail being furrowed in the middle caused by motorcycles. Water runoffs from rain made it deep and it is an ugly sight.

Down and down we go over very slippery terrain and polished stones and into scattered copse of southern mahogany trees. Here and there are mango trees and flower farms. This is the No-Santol-Tree Trail which I found and explored in 2009. The last time I used this path was during the Night Navigation Training on April 5, 2012 which ended on the early hours of the following day – April 6.

After more than an hour of walking, we reach the Kalunasan Circumferential Road and we walk south towards Napo. It is 4:00 PM and I am satisfied with my effort today in battling myself of those unwanted bulges. We take motorcyles-for-hire back to the Our Lady of Guadalupe Church and then transfer to the Red Hours Convenience Store for our customary post-activity discussions.

What a day and I just wish it could go on like this everyday but I cannot since I am free only on just a couple of Sundays every month. Nevertheless, it’s a good start and I feel good now. My limbs are working fine and I feel a sense of a looseness now. I think I am ready for 2013 and that project that Jungle Wil proposed to me.

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NAPO TO BABAG TALES LII: Black Saturday Night Training

THERE IS SOMETHING exciting when people hike in the mountains during the night. I know of outdoor clubs or groups of hikers doing that every now and then. They go up – one way - to their campsite destinations in a long chain of lights, a wonderful sight to behold in the woods from the eyes of a startled toad.

The battery-powered flashlight, which have developed from a low-voltage incandescent bulb to halogen to light-emitting diodes (LED), is the standard equipment that you will find inside the hiker’s backpack and a lot of them are known to carry an extra. The LED have multiplied the ordinary bulb’s lumen power a hundred times over and changed the name of the flashlight into a torch. Credit that to technology.

However, when you use a torch, there is one primeval function that you inadvertently choose to ignore and disregard. It is not one’s fault though but this is an instinct that have evolved through constant use in the past by our earliest ancestors and have, likewise, declined through neglect, through our dependence with modern technology and through ignorance.

 

This natural night vision is developed to great advantage by nocturnal hunters. I am not a hunter but I prefer to use my eyes to work my way in the dark. That is a fact. I have led people on the trails many times and, by situations beyond my control, commit them to walk in the night. Of course, they used lights but I advance my natural sight to good use on myself.

Actually, hiking in the night is strictly prohibited if you jerk yourself hard to read Leave No Trace. That is true. Night has more of its hazards than day. There are only three instances where you could do night navigation in the mountains: (1) When you are caught up with dusk as you try to make it to the campsite or to a pre-defined destination; (2) You rouse early from sleep and start at early dawn; and (3) You are training in a controlled environment.

Night Navigation Training does not come often and when it does I make sure my people at Camp Red is given priority. Actually, NNT is a prescribed skill for bushcraft and survival. However, I am generous enough to welcome members from other outdoor clubs or anyone who is/are willing to learn upon my invitation or through referrals.

Fourteen participants arrive at Guadalupe in the late afternoon of Black Saturday – April 7, 2012. They are Justine, Faith, Bogs, Dominikus, Glenn, Eli, Paul, Edwina, Bette, Ivy, Jessie, Ernie, Boy and James. Seven of them are registered nurses and some are connected with the Philippine National Red Cross as volunteers. I give a short overview of NNT and final briefing.

We start from Napo, Sapangdaku at 6:00 PM. I advised the participants to use their torch when crossing streams and when in doubt of the ground where they are going to tread at. Always fix a certain celestial body as reference when the moon have not yet risen. By the way, the full moon is still a full day old and it may rise any moment.

Our pace is slow, deliberately done to control the brain from sending the wrong signals. We arrive at Lower Kahugan Spring at 7:00 PM and proceed to refill water bottles. Sooner, we will be at the place where we will prepare, cook and eat our dinner. Camp Red prefer to eat their meals fresh from the cooking fire.

By the time we leave the spring, at a rise along the trail, the moon shine its silver sheen. I could see better the path. I lead them to a steep switchback and, at exactly 8:00 PM, we reach the Roble homestead. There is nobody in the house and it is dark. I prepare anyway the ingredients for our meal and started cooking first the milled corn.

I chopped the taro leaf stems, eggplants, gumbos and green peppers while Ernie start to saute garlic and onions in edible oil in a big pot. Water is added and I drop all the chopped green things inside including horse radish leaves I plucked along the trail. Meanwhile, dried fish is cooked in oil by the rest of the guys. Canned tuna are, likewise, reheated.

The cooking took long due to strong headwinds brought about by moonrise that play on the stoves. Mists accumulate and become rain clouds and the night temperature begins to drop. The moon give its full shine on our stay at the Roble place and the participants take advantage of this by talking among themselves, exchanging notes and email ads.

We eat our supper an hour late. We were supposed to leave the place for Babag Ridge at 10:00 PM but it is now 11:00 PM. Nevertheless, NNT should proceed without haste. This day is my last day of fasting. I do this every Holy Week and I should have broke my fast at 6:00 PM but my commitment to teach NNT precedes over my gut.

We follow the East Ridge Pass and a soft shower begins to fall. Even in the middle of summer, this is normal during a full moon. The moon’s gravity carry the mists from the ocean and land, condenses when cooled by the turbulent air that is channeled by the Babag Mountain Range from the sea and accumulates into rain clouds.

The branches and leaves sag as I pass by, brought heavy by water. I could still see clearly the trail. The clouds covered the moon yet it is still bright enough for my eyes to see. Behind me, most of the participants use their headlamps. Their confidence begins to wilt under the pressure of rain and an inner fear of a misstep.

Sooner or later, their brains will play games on them unless I have to stop and reassure everyone that I am in charge of this whole thing. Rest is given to those who toil and everyone give their best to ignore pain, cold and that primeval fear of the dark. Safety in numbers negate that fear and those who paced faster wait for those who lagged.

I arrive at Babag Ridge at 12:30 midnight and everyone take a rest to recover their breath. The fogs are thick and it is around twenty degrees Celsius. Ahead is a store – although closed at this hour - and I may have to boil water for coffee there. Everyone needs something hot inside their tummies. Just a kilometer more and we could have that hot coffee.

After the coffee break, it is time to resume the last half of our journey. This time it is perilous because the path is slippery and it is all downhill. The moon is on the downswing of its orbit and it may disappear anytime behind the mountain range and the rain fell again at 1:30 AM. This time I encourage everyone to use their lights.

This trail to Kalunasan is seldom taken by me and I always have trouble remembering my last route there even during daylight. The night presents a bit of a problem for me this time so I arm myself with a meter-long bamboo stick. I sharpen the end so I could use it as a weapon and as an anchor to stabilize my downward pace.

The No-Santol-Tree Trail is a route that I have discovered three years ago based upon the description of a local about the presence of a santol tree (sp. Sandoticum koetjapi) that marks the trailhead. The moment I looked for that tree, it is nowhere to be found, and I got lost as well, walking in circles obviously wanting to satisfy my exploring spirit never knowing that I found a different path.

I equip the female participants with wooden staffs as an aid to walking and balance. I have limited control this time and this is the most difficult part of the activity and I have to use my small LED light as well. I start at a snail’s pace but I slip and I smack my butt hard on the trail. Vegetation is much thicker here but I am not worried because I have a torch.

The shadows play on my brain and I begin to doubt at myself. The route I followed seems unfamiliar but I persisted until I see a hint of a faintly-familiar bend in the trail that led me to a more common contour. I am the navigator and guide and I use my trailcraft skills to the max to offset the deceptive appearance.

I cross a low saddle that lead into another ridge and, this time, I know where I am going but the going is not easy as I have expected. The path have been obliterated almost by thick growth due to non-use by people and I hack the vegetation with my bamboo sword to part a way. This is a path that is so narrow and where the soil is very soft.

Meanwhile, the peaceful night is shattered by blasts of firecrackers in the distance. A religious activity signifying the Resurrection of Christ has just started. I wait for the slow walkers and give myself a break. The trail is very misleading and I would prefer that those behind me are very visible from those much much behind. I walk as if without purpose just killing time so that those from the tail end could catch up.

Satisfied with the pace, I cross several arroyos – dry waterways – where loose broken rocks and detritus accumulate in an unstable manner. I arrive at the first of the many tamarind trees found along this trail. Four months ago, an unusual bat pestered me here and I wait for its presence. The time is 4:00 AM.

I walk on and rested below another tamarind tree. A bat did appear but it is not the one and I scare its wits by whacking it with my stick almost hitting it save for its timely last-second maneuver. It never returned.

The rain have stopped but it had left a wet and slippery ground. The eastern sky showed traces of light. In a little while the sky will be much brighter and there will be sunrise in an hour or so. Birds in their nests greeted the dawn. The small valley reverberate from the sound of its great number.

The sun did come just in time when I reach a copse of tamarind trees. This is the hub of four trails going east, west, south and north. I rest and waited for the participants to arrive. One by one they came and welcomed the opportunity to sit again after many hours of walk. I ask everyone if they were alright and everyone smiled erasing the tiredness showing in their eyes. 

 

By 6:00 AM, we were already at Guadalupe sipping hot chocolate drink and pairing it with sticky rice. We have come and walked from the dark mountains of yesterday to greet Easter Sunday. Osiyo!!!

TIPS FOR NIGHT HIKING:

• Night is different than day, caution should be exercised.
• The walking stick is very useful in night navigation. Not only it could aid you in your balance and a counter to gravity, it could be used as a probing stick and a weapon.
• Check night sky fixtures as your reference. It will aid you in your general direction.
• When using your natural night vision, refrain from switching on your torch. The glare of unnatural light destroys your night vision. If it does, switch off the light and close your eyes for ten seconds and blink several times afterward to fine tune it back.
• Use your peripheral vision to great advantage. It is that part where you could detect movement and other objects which cannot be detected by a frontal sight.
• Use your light when crossing a stream or when you are in doubt of the part of the path before you.
• Do not play in to your brain. The brain receives signal from your eyes and tenses the muscles and release more adrenaline. Heart pumps more blood and would need more oxygene. You hasten your pace and you gasp for air and you become fatigued. Save your energy instead as you are not chasing someone in the dark.
• Walk very slow. Take your time.
• Walk during full moon or at least where the moon is not less than half.
• Wear visible clothing.
• Prepare a route card and leave it to your base support crew, a friend or to the authorities; and indicate the time when you will arrive or notify them.

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