Before anything else, I would like to say that this is Kat's idea. She did not force me to it; I said yes, enthusiastically even. But this is her idea. (Peace, Kat)
 |
| Scenic Batulao. |
The meet up was at Mcdo in El Pueblo, and we were there as early as 3AM. There were already small groups of people waiting at Mcdo and I could see the trail guides going around, with a checklist. They approached every group except for us -- the two fat ladies at the corner who looked like they got out of bed for a midnight snack at Mcdo. Actually, one guide's eyes strayed to us, and then looked past us, as if in denial. Or fear that he would eventually carry us on his back across the ridges of Batulao. And then, after about 10 minutes of looking for "Kat and Helen," he went to our table, looking quite defeated, and took our remaining balance for the hike fee. The entire time, Kat was like, "Grabe Helen, bakit payat silang lahat." I worried too, but then I'm with Kat. And Kat has been to Mt. Everest base camp in Nepal. We swore that whatever happened, we would not leave each other. Chos, haha.
 |
| Peak (in red circle). That's where we are trying to get to. |
And so the climb began. Batulao is really a beginner's mountain, with gentle slopes, and frequent stops.
But I could already see that Kat, who has lupus, was struggling to keep up. We took this trip because Kat believes her days are numbered, and given the treacherous nature of her lupus, she wanted to take advantage of every period of wellness she has. I started to worry by Peak 4, because I remembered that just a few months before, she had an inflamed heart. Which she took care of by taking steroids, which made her quite plump, and which made it more difficult for her to move. But this brave, brave girl soldiered on and never gave up.
Well, she almost did, about two more peaks later (I think there are 20+ peaks). I think she was embarrassed that we were holding up the group (they were already at the next rest stop, and we were way, way behind, with Mik, the poor unfortunate guide who was assigned as sweeper). She kept apologizing to me, saying she'd just go back, but Mik wouldn't let her. I tried all all sorts of encouragement I can think of. Mik recounted all propitious, inspiring mountain climbing stories he could recall. Yet every time Kat sees a group of returning hikers, she'd beg Mik and I to let her go with them back to the base camp. Actually, I did not try hard enough convincing Kat to go on, because I was partly scared that her heart would give out, and I debated whether or not I should tell the guides about her medical condition. I did not. In hindsight, I should have, because after the peak, the climb would turn for the worse. Actually, had I known what was waiting for us during descent, I should have feigned a mild heart attack at that point.
 |
| Knife's Edge. |
 |
| Kat getting the Mik Pep Talk. |
I dunno how long it took, but finally, we reached the peak. We were supposed to have lunch but I was so tired I just nibbled on my sandwich. Then Kat took out her steroids, and everyone asked what she was taking, so Kat had to explain her lupus. Thankfully, there's a Malaysian(?) doctor in the group. He didnt really do anything, but having a doctor around made me feel better.
 |
| Abot-tanaw na ang summit. |
Then it started to rain, right before they told us we have to rappel down this almost-90 degree incline. It was a short one, about twenty feet down. I panicked because I have really weak arms, and I was so tired already. And I wanted to blame someone, anyone, for advertising this mountain as a beginner's mountain. Well I also thought I was being a crybaby but more and more people started voicing the same sentiments and it encouraged my despair. Most of them climbed Mt. Pulag already, and they said this climb is a lot more difficult.
I dunno how Kat and I managed to climb down, but we did. As we waited for the rest to go down, the rain no longer held back. It came in buckets. I have a raincoat, but at that point, I didn't have any energy left to take it out of my backpack, so I just sat on the rocks, the rain beating at my back, thinking I will stay there until the rescue chopper comes. Rescue chopper, my ass. Pretty soon, we were moving again, on slippery slopes, deep mud, crumbling rocks. My hands were bloody from grasping at the sharp blades of grass. I don't know how many grass I've uprooted, trying not to fall off cliffs. I no longer took pictures. One girl tore her tights apart, in the butt area, and I can see her pale rump, grazing the rocks and being smeared by mud. I was just thinking what kind of nut would wear tights on a climb, when her slippers gave out too. Slippers as in flip flops. And FYI, this girl has already been to Mt. Pulag, you'd think she'd have more sense to dress appropriately. Suddenly, I no longer felt foolish that Kat and I dared this climb. The girl went on barefoot and predictably, injured her feet. Mik had to lend her a pair of slippers, which were still no match for the terrain, so someone took out some strings and fashioned those slippers into gladiator sandals. Very ingenious. I don't remember the guy now, but I thought he looked like Prince Charming then. The mountains have this power, to cast spells like that. To make the strong ones look really, really attractive.
I started to appreciate the hike guides more. Their long thin arms can surprisingly steady you until you've found your footing. There was this girl hike guide, so petite that the slightest gust of wind could blow her away, who caught me just when I was about to fall. And wow, she was solid as a rock. Plus, they were all very kind and patient, especially to Kat, which I deeply appreciated. And I marveled at how cheerful and chatty they stayed, when I was in near tears already.
Like the peaks of Batulao, my mood was also going up and down. At one point, I ran out of water, and was just putting one foot in front of the other, already shutting off. I remember the Snicker bars (I had three!) in my pocket and I started cramming them in my mouth, zombie-like. I didn't notice that Mik was behind me, still trying to keep the chatter going, "
Uy, S
nickers,
energy bar, that's good. You know whenever I climb Pulag, I'd be so tired at night, I can no longer cook dinner. I just stay at my tent, eating chocolates until I fall asleep." Well I was at the end of my rope, and I felt like I needed complete silence at that moment, so I suddenly felt this intense hostility towards him and gave him a look that said, Fuck You. I hope he did not notice.
And then another rest stop. Did you know they sell only Mountain Dews in the mountain? And I get why the sell buko juice, but there's also
arroz caldo and halo-halo. We also met this guy running in a tracksuit. And in that torrential rain, he was just zipping through the mountains like it was flat and made of concrete. The guides know him, and told us he is training for a marathon. Fucking show off, I thought.
 |
| One of them rest stops. |
I realized how my mettle is being tested right then and there and I am miserably failing. So i forced myself to smile. Or at least keep the scowl off my face. I was no longer thinking about Kat. Hell, I was not even talking to her anymore. All I wanted was to go home.
 |
| Tabi, tabi. |
Yet another rest stop. I noticed that the trails are becoming covered by horse dung. I can recognize them from regular mud because they're dark green in color, and they come in lumps. And then it started to get dark. I walked ahead of everyone, no longer caring how far Kat is behind me. I was only certain she was not the last one on the trail because injured butt girl was the slowest hiker now.
 |
| The Mt. Batulao Souvenir Shop. |
The trail had gone horribly soft, and with every step, my foot would sink up to my mid leg. This was when I started to go through the stages of grief:
Denial. As I pulled my foot out, my shoe got left behind. I debated whether or not to retrieve it with my hands, and wait, why is this mud looking greenish? Fuck, no, it's just the dimming light playing tricks on my eyes. It's brown, not green. I took a deep breath and dipped my foot again into the soupy mud, and searched for my shoes. Wiggled my foot to the left, then right, then deeper still, and yes, this is my shoe. It's okay, I can do this. Deep breaths.
Anger. I saw that the hiker I'm following is Mik, again. The Malaysian doctor should be behind me, but I could no longer see him. It was almost completely dark, and Mik's headlight was the only light I can see in the distance. I fall again. This time, I went on all fours. Horse shit and all, I may even have some on my face. I wanted to call out to Mik for help, but I remember him saying earlier, in a really worried voice, that this is the first time he got caught up here in the dark. And I thought he was implying that we, the fatties, caused this delay, and had it not been for us, he would have been back at the base hours before nightfall. I kinda felt guilty, and a little offended too, even though I keep on telling myself that's not what he meant. That what he meant is just that -- for the first time, it's 630PM already and he's still in the mountains. He turned around and saw me, asked me if I'm stuck. Oh hell no, I'm never giving you the satisfaction. I said I'm okay, and miraculously pulled myself out. See what pride and indignation can do?
Bargaining. And then I fucking fall again. And I have honestly no strength left to get up. All effort to move seems to only make me sink deeper and deeper in that horseshit-filled muck. I started to pray and I thought of how many times Jesus fell carrying His cross, before He was finally allowed to die, and I wonder if I'm anywhere near that number. So I could fucking die already. Then I noticed Mik's headlight moving, and I prayed, begged, offered everything, just to have Mik turn my way again. I promised I would be faithful to my diet, that I would start going to the gym again, that I would stop procrastinating at work, if only Mik will turn around and pluck me out of that rut. After an eternity, he turned, asked if I'm okay. I didn't trust myself to speak for fear that I would burst into tears. But I heard him walking towards me.
Depression. Mik lead the way. I forgot what I was holding on to, his shirt or a stick, I don't remember, but we kept walking and walking. I keep on falling, dragging him down with me each time. He said I should grab his arm, but my hands are covered with horse dung (I'm so fucking sure of that now). He said it was okay, and I thought this is no time to be
maarte, so I did. Then I fell again, on my knees. An old man suddenly appeared on my side, with a flashlight and picked me up. He said there's a tricycle a few more paces down, and we could just get a ride to the camp. I looked at Mik incredulously,
we can take a ride to the base?? I walked again with renewed purpose towards my salvation, Mik on my left arm and the old man on my right, literally dragging me with them like the invalid that I am.
Acceptance. Mik kept trying to fend off the old man, who was clearly expecting some reward in return. I wanted to tell Mik it was alright. I'll give the old man all I have to deliver me away from this hell. Finally, we reached the tricycle, which was parked on the first concrete ground I've seen all day. Mik told me to wait for him because he wanted retrieve (yes, as in "body retrieval") the Malaysian doctor. Twenty minutes passed before they came back. We started to make our way on board the tricycle, in complete darkness, when the engine made this scary sound and we were suddenly engulfed in thick, black smoke. Blacker than the darkness. I went,
shit, this is it, I'm gonna die, I'm gonna die. The driver asked us to get out. We pushed the tricycle back on the road, and were on our way again. But he drove that junk like a really bad Fast and Furious: Batulao Drift, and once, we almost collided with the wall of the mountain. Like, three inches away. The doctor said,
this is fun, like he really meant it. I wanted to smack him if I have any strength left in me. The engine died, we got out, pushed, got back inside. Five fucking times. By this time, I have resigned myself to the belief that I will never see my family again, or my dog, and shit, why didn't I get that St. Peter memorial plan when I had the chance.
 |
A pic of the trail taken during pre-rains, on ascent. Picture this after a day of raining, in total darkness.
|
I did reach base camp. A boy offered to wash the mud off my shoes. I took a bath in one of the houses. Kat arrived on a horse. A horse! She told me they were right behind our tricycle, and saw how messed up it was. She apologized again for this trip. I just kept shaking my head in disbelief.
 |
| One of Batulao's horses, tough enough to transport clueless, helpless mountain climbers |
Back in my bed, I was so tired I fell asleep with half my clothes on. By half, I meant that my pants were halfway down my legs. I fell asleep while taking them off. The following morning, I noticed that there was still caked mud at the back of my knees.
After a few days, the shock wore off and Kat and I posted pics on FB. And everyone was like,
Pulag naman tayo guys! And Kat and I went,
sige, Pulag! Pulag! *smh*
 |
| That's me with Ingrid Berghaus. Photo credit to Kat. |
