THE THRUHIKE JOURNAL: Day 26 (Bakhawan to Lanao)

A SINGLE DAY OF REST coming in from twelve straight days of hiking the most demanding and the most difficult terrain of the Cebu Highlands Trail worked impressively on your body. What made the rest more awesome is that we spent it at the idyllic Bakhawan Beach Home. The day is colder than yesterday and the breeze caused by the northeast monsoon made it so. Today is February 13, 2017 and this is Day Twenty-six of the Thruhike.

I would have wanted to stay for a few more hours but this is not the best time to tinker with my itinerary. No. Never! Not today when we are expected to finish this first ever Thruhike of Cebu in two days. I have people who are expecting me to hit the route once again. They are fed, from time to time, on social media by my Lenovo A7000 and, perhaps, if it is still working, by the satellite navigation transmitter provided by Galileo Satellite Control Systems-Philippines.

 

Lani Perez, the owner of Bakhawan Beach Home, a good friend of mine, and a common acquaintance, Bebut Estillore, have left very early in the morning. Before leaving, she had instructed her people to cook something nice for us before we embark on our own journey. Jonathaniel Apurado, me and my guest hiker, supply team commander and Thruhike supporter, Markus Immer, would be walking north. We would leave Mirasol and Mark Lepon, Ronald and Christian Jacob Abella, Leomil Pino and Glyn Formentera as they prepared themselves for departure to Metro Cebu.

I am glad the spartan breakfasts of instant soups and rice had come to an end three days ago and I have not missed it today. Instead, we will enjoy a breakfast of leftover free-rein chicken which is now part of a soup with horse radish. After the meal, there is coffee and the second to the last bottle of Yakult cultured milk and the last capsules of Enervon multivitamin and Herbalife natural raw Guarana. I sent a text message to the Daanbantayan Police Station that we are resuming our journey soon.

This day, I will no longer carry something with my hand but the Therm-a-Rest sleeping pad, provided by Michael Schwarz, will still be a fixture, taking its favorite place on my front. I said goodbye to Doming once again. It is 07:30. We are late but I know where I am going now and we were well-rested. We retrace our route we took two days ago to where that notch at Pangadlawan Hills is located. Across me is the Dalingding Hills and, farther away, is Panugnawan Hills.

I would not be walking there but follow a dirt road going north to the small community of Pangadlawan and to the sugar cane fields of Hacienda Gomez, in the village of Paypay, Daanbantayan. The breeze blew strong, the power lines sung, the sugar cane leaves clashed, while the coconut leaves overhead danced. I shivered at the wind. The winter coldness of Siberia, Japan, Manchuria and the Korean Peninsula can be felt as the northeast wind brought its below zero temperatures down the equator.

 

We are in the best of weather and time. The sun gave out its energy of light and warmth but the cool northern winds tempered it. I looked back at Markus and he gave me a thumbs up. Farther away is Jon, his umbrella blocking away the sun from his face. Everyone is okay, no need to rush. I have to enjoy this walk. It is now rolling terrain and we are now on the plains. The high places are over. I am walking in seventh heaven for I am now starting to cut distance and time to that elusive jewel on the north.

We walked on empty spaces and amidst communities where life seemed to have gone elsewhere. It is silent except for the hum of the power cables strummed by the amihan. Then there is the yakitty-yak of a political commentary on AM radio. It is a strange place to be in, unbelievable even. We reach an asphalted road and I have to follow it northeastward. Fish are dried beside the road in Dalingding, Daanbantayan. People stare at us and dismiss our presence. I understand why? Markus.

A foreigner in your strand, exempts you from inquisitive looks. Markus, my trouble saver. People now throw jokes at us about Markus and then laugh when Markus answered them in pidgin Cebuano, amused at themselves of being caught offguard. These same people which the policemen have dismissed their reports six months ago as nothing but rumor mongering, ignored us now and appeared jolly and carefree. I hope it stays that way for the rest of the route for this day.

We cross a wide steel bridge. Soon we would arrive at a road corner where there is a store and we would rest. At 10:12, we reach the corner of Libertad, Daanbantayan. We would rehydrate with the coldest Coca Cola of the planet and home-baked bread known as “burikat” from this store. There is a kiosk and we stayed in the shadiest and windiest part as I explained to Markus the significance of the bread’s name.

 

After 20 minutes, we continue. Somewhere over the road we would stop again for our noonbreak. I do not know where is that but I just wish it would be sooner as the noontime sun begins to feel uncomfortable. Among built-up areas that looked more urbane than rural, the luxury of the endless bursts of cooler winds are now missing. The concrete pavements bounce back heat towards our faces. Good thing I have dark sunglasses provided by Zue Fashion to shield my eyes from glare.

Markus and Jon has wide brimmed hats while I favored my drab green meshed shawl to cover my head and part of my face. I could wet it and cover my head when heat would be unbearable which I did before this Thruhike. I can fold it without taking space, can be washed easily, dries fast and I can use it as an alternative mosquito net for my face. It had seen good days and look tattered with some threads coming loose.

We passed by the village of Malingin, Daanbantayan and asked a village watchman. He knew us coming and is very helpful. The idea of us being expected in town removed the furrows of worry on my forehead. It made me feel good walking on concrete pavement even under a scorching noontime sun. My steps become light and sprightly and the buildup of fatigue dispersed about downwind. Just a few kilometers more and we would stop.

At 11:35, we stop by a store at the village of Pajo, Daanbantayan. It has good shade and there is a long bench. Across it is a road that would lead us to Lanao, hopefully, later. In the meantime, we just have to rest, rehydrate with water and cold RC Cola, and eat our rations. For me, it is another Fitbar energy cereal. I bought another bottle of RC and keep myself well hydrated. I updated my base support team about our whereabouts as I had done in every place we stopped and where there are phone signals to catch.

 

By 13:00, we lurched forward and cross the highway and enter that road across us. A few meters from the corner, vacant lands were converted into a garbage dumping area. Under the heat of the day, shreds of thin plastic and whole plastic bags danced on the empty air as the breeze tease it where it went tossed. It is dragged from the ground and spiraled up an invisible vortex and carried high among thermals to be part of the next day’s garbage to be dumped here.

The road is narrow with thin asphalt pavements. It winds irregularly among rehabilitated communities that were once flattened by Typhoon Haiyan in 2013. Several relief agencies have left their good marks here and the residents have recovered from that debacle and are busy engaging in their livelihood. A signboard says that we are now in the village of Tominjao, Daanbantayan. A few kilometers more and we will strike our day’s refuge.

At 13:50, I reach a corner where a sign reads “Welcome Barangay Lanao”. Lanao is named after a lake which I saw six months ago. Almost everyone knows not the presence of this body of water but it should be there even when there has been no rain for the last ten days. A middle aged woman asked us if we are the hikers and we were ushered to their village hall at 14:10. They expected us at 16:00 based on the itinerary I gave to both the Office of the Provincial Governor and the Cebu Police Provincial Office.

We were received by the village chairwoman, the Hon. Remedios Layos. Immediately, she mobilized her village council to prepare something for the visitors. It is quite strange that, six months ago, I was not entertained here and, here they are, giving me respect as if I and my companions are VIPs. I have made my peace with the people of Lanao when I came back here last November 3, 2016 to visit and talk to Hon. Remedios about my purpose and to ask her blessings. That day I finished the exploration and the completion of the CHT.

Her people were busy going in and out and calling other people so I asked her if we could visit Lake Lanao since we have a lot of time. That gave her the needed space to relieve pressure. She immediately provided a vehicle so we would be shuttled there accompanied by her councilor, Hon. Celso Montana, and three village watchmen. They would serve as our “tour guides” and our “security”. 

 

Lake Lanao, as I have said before, is unknown to most people outside of Daanbantayan. It is rain fed, a large pond, roughly five hectares in size and has an outlet that drains into the Bantayan Channel when it is filled beyond its capacity. It has an island near the southern shore. During its heyday, the lake used to provide freshwater fish to the communities when the seas were very rough for fishing. It is also a rich roosting ground for migratory birds.

The size of the lake decreased through the years as the shallow shorelines were converted into farmlands planted with rice and other crops. Overfishing and introduction of exotic fishes caused decline of the native fish species while migratory birds who still visit do not come in great numbers anymore. There is a secret burial ground of ancient Cebuanos inside a cave with which entrance is submerged in water. There is now a dry swamp where there are very large Leichardt pines grow (Local name: hambabalod).

We returned to the village on foot after more than an hour and we were served with snacks of espinossum seaweed (guso), sweet potatoes and softdrinks. We were welcomed to stay and sleep inside their village hall and we were provided with coffee, crackers, cold and hot water, electricity and peace of mind. Early dinner came at 15:45 hosted by the people of Lanao. It is free-rein chicken soup, fried milkfish (bangus), grilled pork and rice cooked in little coconut baskets (puso).

When we were alone, we claimed our sleeping spaces on the concrete floor, charged our batteries and enjoyed a happy atmosphere since nothing could stop now our historic Thruhike of Cebu. We will claim that bragging right tomorrow on Day Twenty-seven. Meanwhile, I crossed out the day’s itinerary, checked my map for tomorrow and concluded the night with entries on my journal.

Distance Walked: 15.33 kilometers

Elevation Gained: 113 meters and a low of 3 meters

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BEBUT’S TRAIL XVI: Bushmen Also Love Trees

THE LAST TIME I PLANTED TREES was seven years ago. I planted it along the Babag East Ridge Pass and it involved representatives of local hiker groups. Despite my effort and sacrifice to personally water it every weekend, one by one, the young trees withered and died. I cannot blame the local climate because all were nurtured and grown in a small nursery adjacent to the trail and, therefore, fully acclimatized. Domestic animals and fowls were the main culprit.

The last species to die was a boat-fruited mangrove (Local name: dungon). I lost it in 2015 to goats despite protecting it with bamboo barbs. After that, I did not spearhead a tree-planting activity again if local caretakers do not want it or are not interested to protect it. Local attitudes, mindsets and acceptance play a big part and, if they are not willing to get involved, why should I exert myself to nothing? Besides that, choosing which species to plant also plays a big part for me and that needs more time.

I am very critical about tree-planting activities. I do not take short cuts like most people do like planting mahogany, white leadtree (ipil-ipil), gmelina, Brazilian flame trees and other exotic species. I prefer indigenous species and fruit-bearing trees, even though these, unknown to you, were introduced many years ago by our Spanish and American colonizers. The good thing about these fruit trees are it had adapted well and are “good neighbors” with their native counterparts and now plays a perfect role in our local ecology. 

But today, March 4, 2017, gave me an opportunity to, once again, plant a tree. Jhurds Neo, the head shed of Camp Red Bushcraft and Survival Guild got the green light from Ceno Laborte of Baksan, Sapangdaku, Cebu City to have his land planted with trees. Any kind. The Guild would be dirtying their hands. I suggested that he concentrate on collecting fruit tree seedlings and hardwood species, with a few mahoganies that Ceno could harvest once it matured for construction of a future house.

The tree-planting activity would also be a school project for the students of the University of San Carlos, of which Jhurds is teaching and he involved his CWTS class. From the Guild, came Ernie Salomon, Glenn Pestaño, Ann Jillian Yap, Justin Abella, Jonathaniel Apurado, Nyor Pino, Glyn Formentera, Jenmar de Leon and guest blogger Jean Louise Mainit. Coming with his father, is Jacob Neo. He likes the freedom of the outdoors so he could play “dirt time” with his local friends. From the parking lot of the Our Lady of Guadalupe Parish, we hired transportations to bring us all to Baksan.

From the road, it would be a twenty-minute walk to the property of Ceno. Each one carried gently a young tree on one of their palms. The species are soursop, guava, acacia, narra, lanzones, rambutan, cacao and mahogany. The hike took almost an hour for the USC students for they were not used to walking on dirt trails. For some, it is their first time. It does not surprise me. These are millennials. They are normally “wired” to the electric socket and the WiFi and are mall creatures.

The idea of walking on soil with abundant forest cover amazes them so much that they forgot Android phones for a while. Some recovered at the shock and paused for self-portraits but finding phone signals wanting they just used its other function of capturing images in still photos and in video. Some, unable to shake off their cosmopolitan nature, donned headphones wired to their phones and sang in sync with the subdued melodies. It was a wonder to watch these kids but Jacob ignored them. Jacob is miles away from them.

We arrive in a place called Sibalas. I have been here many times. This place was “opened” to us after we had successfully conducted outreach programs for the children of Baksan. In fact, the place is referred by one local as “kinapusuran sa Baksan”, which can be translated in English as the center of Baksan. It has a deep well where, not too long ago, was an open spout of water. Its flow never faltered the whole year round, even in the warmest drought season. People, as far as Gethsemane Hills, come here to collect its precious liquid during the worst times.

Watering and nurturing the young trees would not be a problem here. It is shady with breaks in the forest cover allowing adequate sunlight. The mature trees would mother the young trees from direct sunlight while retaining moisture on the ground after a rain. Sibalas has the capacity to retain water and its natural spring is a testament of its healthy underground water dynamics. The residents have valued this spot and they have refrained from rearing hogs along a radius of about 1,000 meters. That is why we chose this place and adopted the community for our outreach.

Jhurds begins to brief the students and assigned them the places to plant. They would also be assigned to plant fruit trees only and grouped into five individuals each, assisted by one adult from Camp Red, for they will be handling edged tools. The rest of the Camp Red people would gather bamboo and fashion these into long stakes to protect the young trees from stray farm animals and for easy recognition. The empty spaces along the path would be designated for fruit trees. The young mahogany would be planted by Camp Red people on a slope while I would plant the narra and acacia species on difficult spots.

Holes were dug four meters from each other and it lined along the trail. More holes were dug on the next layer and then the next. The last layer was reserved for mahogany trees, which holes were placed on sloped areas and would act as debris catchers when it matures. Debris would impede water from running directly to water channels and brooks. The acacia and narra species were placed on areas where it could water itself by its location within a few feet from depressions along water channels.

Every student carried with him or her, a packed meal. When noonbreak came, most of the young trees were planted and everybody paused for lunch. Likewise, with the Camp Red bushmen. Ernie, our camp fixer, was exempt from the tree planting activity. He has at his task of providing delicious nourishment for us. As always, three dishes, plus a dessert of raw cucumber and tomatoes in vinegar. Jacob has his special meal courtesy of Jolibee. There is an unfinished hut that served as our resting place. There is a table and benches on three sides.

This structure is one of two that we are constructing. When finished, it will be used as a recreation area and as an outdoor education center. People will be taught here about bushcraft, wilderness survival, homesteading, campsite management, backcountry ethics and safety, trailcraft, first aid, prepping, land navigation, child woodlore, specialist topics and outdoors leadership. This would be a base camp for trails going into the Buhisan Watershed Area, Mount Bokatol, Tagaytay Ridge, Arcos Ridge and the wilderness of Pagatpat, Buwabog and Cato-ogan.

The rest of the day was reserved for watering the twenty-six mixed-fruit varieties and ten for mahogany and placing the bamboo stakes on each individual plant. But my task was not yet finished. I have to dig holes and plant the last three narra and acacia trees. I have planted five already but mine was the most difficult location and the farthest. The good thing is that you do not have to water for the ground is moist and it is cooler. Just the same, I placed stakes around each for easy identification.

We finished early and Jhurds accompany Jacob and his students to facilitate their quick departure back to Guadalupe. Assisting him were Jonathan, Glyn and Jenmar. Ernie, Nyor and Justin washed the pots near the water source while Glenn and I entertained Ann and Jean at the hut. We boiled water and had coffee to pair with a few pieces of bread. The wash brigade came and joined us. Slowly, they packed their things while waiting for Jhurds and company.

I do not have to pack. I just carried a simple leather frontiersman-style bag that contained a Seseblade Sinalung, a Seseblade Matabia, a Victorinox Ranger SAK, an extra t-shirt and a one-liter juice retort pouch which I repurposed into a collapsible water bottle. The leather bag was a gift from Alan Poole of the UK, the Sinalung and the Matabia are from Dr. Arvin Sese and the SAK from Markus Immer of Switzerland.

We finally left at 15:30, retracing the path we took in the morning. Waiting is a Fuso Elf passenger van that Jhurds have commandeered from his father’s garage. It was roomy at the back. Jacob sat at the front beside his dad. We planted forty-six young trees today and we believed that most of these would survive, except for a few that were handled improperly. That was just the start. We would plant soon another batch of young trees. We would source indigenous ones and more fruit varieties. We would reforest Sibalas and beyond.

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