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The Unforgiving Trail (For Future Reference)
By Bidz Dela Cruz
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Note: Read this when you are having a luxurious coffee break, not when you are in a hurry.

Putang Inang Trail Yan!

No, we did not curse the trail nor nature which was made intricately by God’s own hands. It was a suitable (I’m being euphemistic here) expression to address our amazement on the beautiful trail that taunted us, and told us repeatedly to read her properly. One of us (climbers), Gerald Paragas confirmed this: he saw the trail with matrices of mathematical equations where one should decipher the code of positioning your body properly to adapt to the demands of the trail. For me, this trail I’m talking about (the Tamayong-Talomo-Agco Trail of Mt. Apo), is like a beautiful girl --- you have to woo her hard before you can have her.

Climbing the grand daddy of Philippine Mountains is one thing, taking the hardest route up is wildly insane! Four and a half days of excruciating pain on our lumbars, lower joints, and shoulders (the validity of this statement can only be verified when we continued trekking, because every time we rested it seemed that our whole body ached. Our hands’ condition was not far from the hands of Jesus depicted in the Passion of the Christ (that scene when he was whipped and battered so brutally). Awi and Dora’s legs looked like they just joined a sadistic sorority --- too much bruises all over. Not one from us ever thought that nature’s splendor, in all its charm and beauty, could hit us so badly it broke our spirits.

Indeed the Tamayong-Talomo trail of Mt. Apo is the longest and hardest way up the roof of the Philippines and every minute that we spend in this trail, we ask ourselves why are we doing this? No one would ask for my autograph just because I made it through and got out of this trail in one piece, right? There is no monetary reward out there that will commensurate the efforts we exerted in this trail, yet why did we do it? All our sweats, near death experiences, and injuries would not warrant a marching band when we come back alive, yet we still did what was unthinkable to most people. The question is why? Well, for most of us, going out of our comfort zone is the only way we can know ourselves better. It is not a masochistic approach. It is a continuous endeavor that wrings determination from within us all the time, just when we think we have nothing more to salvage. So this article is dedicated to the 13 people who risked their lives in search of their selves; who braved the harsh elements to bring glory to their mountaineering organization (Jamboree Mountaineers), taking one for the team; who pushed their limits to inspire humanity that they may know their capabilities; and who undoubtedly mustered adequate strength to raise the bar for the progression of climbing. This is their marching band!  Their only reward was to witness the grand view up there in the summit and to come back alive to tell us the story. This is their story:

DAY 1:

A word of warning: do not believe in any posts made in the local mountaineering site which claims to have tried the trail but is only fooling us to believe they did.

Disclaimer: We are not the first group to have tried this trail and we are not a strong bunch, but ours is an amazing story to tell.

And so this day started with a mixture of unpreparedness and excitement. Unpreparedness because everybody expected that we will start the day late (1PM), excitement because we don’t have any other feelings left to harbor. But contrary to our expectations, we were all up by 2:30AM (if my memory serves right, none of us had any sleep at all the night before) and we started trekking by 5AM. It was an hour and a half walk up the wide and muddy rough road with only the banana plantation to reward us with some view. We thought this was a good warm-up so we didn’t start with a formal warm-up on the jump-off, no stretching whatsoever, only a fervent prayer that lifted us with hopes that we are going to be safe on this adventurous climb.  The sun was still lazy trying to get up from its sleep when we reached the registration area in Tamayong. It was a humble village with a great view like that of Sagada. And since some of us were already struggling to catch their breaths, we were joking among ourselves that we stage the summiting here already, go back, and just rather enjoy the beach. Have we known what was ahead of us, this joke could have been the wisest decision we have ever made.

During our registration, we met our porters. We were planning to get only one when we were still in Manila, then two the night before, but when the porters tried on the porter bags assigned to them, they bargained if we could add another porter. Initially, it was difficult lump to swallow because it would cost us extra, but later on this climb we would realize again that it was another wise decision we had made. We needed porters because one of us (Johann) will be celebrating his birthday up the mountain, so we brought Red Horse beers, gins, and so many food. Again, had we known the difficulty of the terrain, we could have left our pride instantly here in the registration area and got us porters each!
Now since the 3 porters were consuming some time unpacking, repacking and packing, we thought it wise to have our breakfast here. I wondered though why none of us paid any seriousness to the term “proper breakfast.” All I saw that time were scavenged bananas from the earlier trail and trail foods which were easily accessible from the top compartment of the packs. Looking back, I could understand now why we easily run out of steam on the first day, to put it frankly concise: on the first hour.

We entered the SUPER mossy forest at around 10:30AM, and it was like that FOREVER! Seriously, the trail was not right, it was not even legal! It was a trail like no other! We just stared at it for a time and didn’t even know at first how we are going to climb it. It was a difficult trail (Note: I have been climbing for 22 years already, and when I say the trail is difficult, it is difficult!) teeming with super tall trees like the ones in Avatar. The trees were all covered with different kinds of moss. This is good for the forest, it means that the ecological area is healthy, but it is not good for us climbers because we could hardly grasp the trunks and branches for support, plus the moss is wet. Hypothermia could easily creep in via our wet hands. But there is no other way but up, so we just allowed our feet to race one another, and to their dismay, the high steps are really high (and I don’t want to sound redundant here, just a matter of fact)!
By noon time, our guide Kuya Bong haggled if we can still push and have our lunch around 1PM so we can hit the river. Lunch by the river sounds great so I cannot help but succumb to his suggestion. It’s as if Yoda was hypnotizing me with the ‘force’. And so we hit the river at 1PM. To our surprise, even the rocks in the river were covered entirely of moss! It was difficult to move around and cook. There were countless times of members slipping from the rocks. You cannot even find a good place to sit where you will not slip. But the food was great, thanks to Team Hazel and Team Awi! We also refilled our trail waters here. The water was cool and refreshing. You might think you just took it out of the refrigerator.
We resumed trekking at 2:30PM. From here it was a wetter mossy forest and a more difficult trail. We were on 8-wheel drive (hands, elbows, knees, and feet) from this time on! Day 1 was a long climb up. We were expecting to reach the 1st campsite at 9PM. Early in the afternoon we were already transferring some items from the packs of the ones that lack adequate stamina to the stronger ones. The act is both a show of camaraderie and a climbing technique where pride has no place. Around 4:30PM, I sent my first matrix of the advance team, hoping that they could go ahead, pitch the tents and cook food for the remainder of the team. It was around 8PM when one of us could no longer go on. Our guide told us to push and leave them be. Two of our members volunteered to stay at the tail while the rest of us, 6 now, pushed. But the trail played hard to get from this hour. With darkness on its side, it was more difficult to climb it. And without any guide at this time, navigating in the dark thick forest was the greatest navigation I ever did in my entire life as a mountaineer. From the initial formula of 30 minutes trek and 5 minutes rest, we shifted to a slower pace formula of 20 minutes trek and 7 minutes rest. 9PM and we were still trekking. At this hour, one of us again could no longer go on. He just disappeared from behind us. We tried calling him aloud but to no avail. One of us even backtracked for 2 minutes just to call him. We got scared. Anything could happen to him.   Haphazardly, Kuya Bong overtook us and told us that the member we were shouting at was already sleeping at the trail. Kuya Bong managed to solicit some words from him which he interpreted as a gesture allowing us to advance without him. And so Kuya Bong advanced up the trail to get help from the porters who were now at the campsite at this hour. We tried to follow his lead but in less than a minute he was nowhere to be found. Now, the 7 minutes rest periods gave way to our involuntary 5-minute naps on the trail. We sat on wet forest floor and rested our backs on our packs. Every time we rested we would grab some nap time that we hope would rejuvenate us one way or another. It was under this formula that we reached the campsite at 11PM. It was the summit of Mt. Talomo, a level 3 mountain. Legend has it that this mountain is the love partner of Mt. Apo, hence the empirical evidence: they are facing each other. We found out that the advance team weren’t able to prepare food because the wind chill drained their strength. I was so exhausted myself I didn’t care to have dinner. Dinner must have been prepared in an hour or two, but I wouldn’t know. As soon as my feet have trodden Mt. talomo’s summit, I rushed to pitch my tent for I was already at the early stages of hypothermia. And as soon as my tent was up, I threw all my things inside and threw my chilling body as well. I laid down as the night progresses to meet the day, but I had a difficult time sleeping. I would get up countless times just to rub off the hypothermia sinking in my extremities until finally daylight broke. And I was surprised to cross Day 2 alive!

DAY 2:

We were supposed to get up at 5AM, prepare and eat breakfast, and cook our packed lunch, then start trekking Day 2 at no later than 7AM. But when Hazel got up at 5AM, no one was still up, so she decided to steal some more sleep. When everybody was up, we missed the sunrise already. I got out of my tent at 8AM, the sun was a bit high already but it was still cold. It was around 9:30AM when we got to have a group picture at the (Mt. Talomo) summit with Mt. Apo peak in the background, unselfishly clearing itself of rain clouds so we can have a vivid shot. After the group shot, the first team started trekking. It was a long ridge climbing for the rest of the morning. If yesterday was root climbing by our hands and thorn hacking by our forearms, today was worse! More root climbing and more annoying thorns greeted us this morning. Most of the time we were not treading on solid ground, the makeshift ground we were stepping on was made of decomposed forest materials, not soil! If it cannot carry our weight, our feet and subsequently our legs would bore a hole in it and we would feel the deep space beneath it. Then there’s the usual precipices, deep gorges and ravines that we got used to already because it is a constant thing when walking along a ridge. The sun light guided us with ample light to see the deadly trail but we would still warn each other by shouting, “Bangin sa kanan!” “Bangin sa kaliwa!” “Bangin sa Kanan at kaliwa!” or the occasional “Guys, bangin everywhere!” (this is a warning that spells major danger to the ones who will be hearing it and automatic disaster to the one’s that won’t, you know it’s highly important than the rest because of the inclusion of ‘Guys’ in the start of the warning). I have heard these warnings in different combos and combinations for several times before we hit the summit of Mt. Lipupukan (another summit which we have to pay homage to before Apo would allow us to face him). We had a good rest stop here. After 5minutes, we resumed trek.

The sun now was starting to scorch our skins and for the umpteenth time I heard the warning, “Bangin sa kaliwa!” With all my know-hows in the concept of foot holds, I maneuvered elegantly to evade the ravine I was warned of. Then after 10 minutes of hot trekking, we reached another summit: Mt. Telelan. Here we had our lunch. It was a fun lunchtime. We discussed and agreed upon that we would go on petics mode for the rest of the trekking day. What a promising day!
And so at around 1:15PM, I, and the new advance team descended the trail. We were to hit the river campsite below. The guide said that it’s just a 3-hour descent from the lunch stop. We thought that the trek down would be easy, but lo and behold, the trail was more dangerous! We passed by a nearly 90-degree wall that we have to traverse towards the left so an unstable makeshift ground could welcome us. But the landing area could only accommodate 3 people with full packs so each time a fourth member would traverse the wall, one of us would already be leaving the makeshift ground which was suspended approximately 50 feet high. And the start of the trail that was connected to this makeshift ground was a giant fallen tree limping and hanging horizontally some 50 feet above the cliff below. This tree provided us with a wet and slippery trunk to walk on, as if the wall was not enough obstacle for us. I wondered if this were a Japanese game show, I could have won and taken home a large sum of money by now. But it’s not. It is a pass. A pass that you would risk your life because you have no other choice but be careful, and our solitary reward would be an extension of our lives, that we would not burden our love ones with unnecessary and untimely funeral costs.

But God is good! We still live to tell the story. An hour and 30 more minutes from that suspended-in-mid-air trunk, we reached a small river. We thought that this was the river the guide was referring to earlier, unfortunately it’s not. Crossing this river was not a problem, approaching and leaving it was! To reach the river we have to balance ourselves on a narrow trunk fixed on a steep angle (almost 45 degrees). So narrow the trunk was, I thought it could not bear my weight. And mind you, nothing in this trail is not wet, this trunk included. So good luck to slippery!

Leaving the small river is another major, major challenge. Another trunk awaited us. Wrapped in mud, this trunk was as narrow as the one before the river but a bit longer so I really thought that at some point between this trunk, it would snap in half. God-willingly, we (the new advance team) all managed to cross these trunks at the river. Resuming the trek and pace now, we were solidly thinking about the rest of the team. We were worried how they could traverse the wall, cross the suspended trunk and balance on the two smaller trunks. And as if our worries weren’t enough, it started to rain. Poor petics team we thought. The rain greeted us miserably with wind chill. We had to stop quickly to put on our ponchos, for some of us raincoats. A wetter trek this time, but we managed to reach the porter-proclaimed emergency campsite in 30 minutes.

I tried to argue with the porter that the space could not accommodate all our tents and that we should be hitting the agreed river campsite. But my plea landed on deaf ears. The porter said that at the other team’s pace, it would spell another 3 hours from this emergency camp site. I could only feel remorse for the whole team while I set up my tent on a suspended makeshift ground made of decomposed forest fibers (and to make things worse, it was steadily raining). And I was ready for a cramped camp setting. Midway when I was pitching my tent, Vic asked me to help him fix the waterproofing system of his tent. He depended on me once on this area during our Mt. Pulag Climb last year via the Akiki Trail, and so he thought I could still render the same service. Luckily, I remembered how to handle it. After helping Vic and Buds pitch their tent, I finished pitching mine. Then I called out to the 2 advance groups and offered my services in their food preparation. Buds responded quickly that I had my hands full, chopping vegetables and spices for their dinner. I kept on calling out on the other group that they would give me the stuff needed to prepare their dinner but to no avail. My priority strain at that moment was to finish the chopping then maybe go back for the packs of the other members who were still trekking. But halfway through my chopping, the rest of the team arrived, wet and all. Then my feared expectations started coming to reality. The camp was so cramped Awi was so disappointed she had to settle pitching her tent on an elevated space only one third of  which could fit in, the rest was hanging on mid air. How three of them managed to sleep in that tent that night was unfathomable! Then there was the controversial food preparation where Awi’s expectation crushed instantly upon arriving at the camp. So controversial, it became a taboo for the rest of the climb to discuss the said failure.

But like the veteran climbers would always say, “There will always be a post climb for all of these!” This mentality probably propelled everybody in the team to lift their spirits once again and celebrate Johann’s birthday after dinner. Sooner than we thought, lights were out and each of us were regenerating our bodies. I was lucky to have Louie share my tent with me, an additional body spelled added warmth inside my tent (though I could still feel the cold during my sleep, piercing my body from beneath because of the damped forest filaments).

DAY 3:

When we woke up, our tents seemed like generators giving us the vestibular evoked myogenic potential we need to start another trekking day. People were singing gleefully during breakfast preparation, there’s a promise of a better day! I remember Vic serenading us with one of Gary Valenciano’s hits while Buds was polluting our air some 3 meters away uphill. We can actually see his face as he dumped his feces beneath the forest floor. This must be his way of going light.

We started trekking only an hour late, it was already a big improvement was the previous day. We reached the great river below in less than an hour. We gave supplementary breakfasts to our guides, managed to rinse some mud away from our soles and resumed trek. The first log crossing was the welcome sign of a difficult trail ahead. It was 45 degrees crazily leaning on a muddy awaiting trail ahead. It was moving and if you would ask me if it’s stable, I would say no, but there’s no other option. After this log was a difficult hurdle on an uphill plane. Maybe I have not just stated the obvious, but most of us were trekking on wet shoes and soggy socks for days already, and this adds to the difficulty of the terrain.

A minute of pure uphill, there was a giant trunk blocking the trail and below it was a crevice so it was a puzzle if we would go over or under it. Most of us ended up bear-hugging it with packs before we could drop on the other side of it. Then it was a steep ascent all through out till 12 noon. When the trail finally changed to a downhill slope, the pushing team became the advance team. The advance team hit the river via a ninja pace and went back for the packs of 2 other members. We had our packed lunch at 1PM. We had an alarming realization: we were running out of food supplies to last the 4-day climb.

Around 1:30PM when Awi told me that she’ll trek ahead. Some of us followed her lead. 6 of us were left at the river with the guides. Then a little later, Johann pushed. After 10 minutes, I asked JM to follow Johann. Then another 10 minutes had passed when I told Gerald to push. Another 10 minutes followed before Me, Vic, and Buds were able to follow Gerald. We reached Gerald’s mobile position in 20 minutes of solid trekking. It was another steep ascent. Mud puddles were like quicksand. One wrong step, and you sink knee-high!

We told Gerald that the 2 guides behind will sweep him, we just need to push and find out if Johann and JM were safe. And so we continued at a superb pace. We reached Johann and JM’ at an area where there were a lot of chopped down trees, leaves and branches littered unnaturally around. There was also a tarp oddly situated in the middle of the mess. Later on at the post climb that would follow days after this afternoon, one of the guides admitted that it was a meeting camp of the NPA rebels. Good heavens!

God is really good! We passed by the scrambling safe.

After the above-mentioned rebel camp, was a giant trunk, 20 feet long, suspended horizontally 10 feet above the ground. It got its support from two more trunks on both its ends. Mossy and all, we had to cross this. And as if the challenge was not yet enough, Johann and JM decided to take pictures while crossing this trunk. After the picture taking, it was a semi-steep but wide trekking through the not-so-dense (this time) but still mossy forest. Vic tried to walk ahead of us and made a quick poo-poo off trail. Of course, like Buds, his head stuck out of the foliage. I was beginning to think that it was an in thing nowadays among the mountaineering community, or perhaps he would just like to keep an eye on his pack while excreting. Whatever his reasons were, he later on regretted doing it meters away the rebel camp.
After passing Vic the trail began to be steep again, but still the trail was wide so it wasn’t that difficult to climb. 5PM when we reached one major rest stop (sadly, we missed the rest of the team) where the 2 porters were waiting to get Johann and Gerald’s full packs. Seeing the two porters carry these packs over their already heavy porter packs gave me a mixture of 2 feelings: one, I was in great awe of their super human strength, and two I felt kind of insulted. I thought to myself: “So you think you are strong Bidz Dela Cruz!”

Still, I shared with the team’s universal gladness that our team as a whole will now pick up a faster pace. To add more joy at this hour, the trail became gradually easy. It was a dominantly a light ridge walk. The only challenge now is the cold. We were so high up in the forest and the night was kicking in so the temperature naturally dropped. It was a long walk until 7:30PM. After hours of night trekking in the cold, we, the tail team finally reached the other members who were now salvaging some nap while chilling (shivering, not relaxing) in the dark. We were only blessed with 10 minutes of togetherness before they decided to push, Venado Lake campsite-bound. 10minutes since they have left, Gerald and the 2 guides arrived at the rest stop. Then, we pushed as well leaving Kuya Bong with some reminders and trusting him and the other guide (Piolo) with Gerald.

Resuming the trek was a necessity because we were all suffering from the cold (our feet’s wetness added greatly to this), but it was also a heart-breaking thing because the trail multiplied its difficulty by 10. We should have rested longer.
Trekking in the night with a hypothermic weather was already difficult, trekking with this situation on a difficult trail was demoralizing. We started to think it’s unfair.  Some of us where already questioning the rationale of the climb. Around 8:30PM everybody was silent, each minding their own manner of psyching up themselves. Until a hum, then a tune finally emerged from Johann (who is now carrying the pack of another team member). It was so contagious in the tail that me, Buds, and Vic blasted in singing loudly despite the unforgiving trail. For me, this was the worst trail of the whole climb, but it was the most uplifting part of the experience, not the summit. Recalling this night makes my tear glands spray whimsically.

The tail sang at least 30 songs while squirming, edging, wedging, scrambling, and forcing our way up the trail. It was a very steep muddy trail with less roots to grab and step on to. To avoid losing our balance, some of us would sacrifice our hands, block the pain, and grab on thorny vines. Finally, just as the song Meron Akong Ano by the late Francis M. made its fifth repetition, we saw lights coming from headlamps frolicking at what seemed to be a flat surface some 50 meters below. It was the vas Lake Venado Campsite, and we reached it before 10PM.

The UP Mountaineers (UPM) were already settled when we got there. They have been in the aforementioned campsite for 2 days already. They have summited Mt. Apo earlier that day. The familiar voice of my UMP batchmate Twylah (also an honorary member of the Jamboree Mountaineers) greeted us all as they prepared hot soup and gin drinks for all us freezing. The camp lifted our spirits once again! At last, solid ground, wide flat lands, a great view of the lake aided by the starry night, and a feeling of security (knowing we are to sleep together in one camp with the best mountaineering group in the land in terms of outdoor knowledge and safety)!

I finally saw smiles on faces that gave me looks of exhaustion for days. I spent some good quality time bonding with the UP Mountaineers lead by my batchmates, Ram-mon, Twylah, and Bopeep. I welcomed alcohol for the first time of the climb. I have so many reasons to celebrate anyway: having survived long days of trekking, experiencing the most difficult trail of Mt. Apo, and pushing the team into safety with no major injuries.

It was a night that I thought I could sleep soundly this time. After I made my last rounds for the night on the two groups that comprises our team, who haggled that we summit at 6AM instead of the dreaded 3AM assault, I entered my tent and attempted to rest. My mind was resting but my physical body was shivering from the cold. To worsen the situation, rain poured heavily until 6AM.

DAY 4:

This was the main reason why no one got up at 5AM to eat breakfast. The team declared that it was another petics climb for us. “The day we summit Mt. Apo, a petics climb,” I thought to myself. 9:30Am when we started the much-awaited assault. We left our camp to dry with our tents on it. I was busy hurrying everyone to prepare, but not without doing my morning ritual. That morning ritual was a disaster. I was looking for a good spot to unload, far from the camp and away from the river, that I ended up climbing a muddy slope filled with thorny vines around. I have to hack the vines with what I only carry: a  trowel (good thing it was a heavy duty one)! This trek to unload was miserable for I was only wearing house slippers. I almost tripped. And the spot that I could salvage for such body waste disposal was not fit for any man, but it was the only spot away from the river. My spot was sloping. The ground was made up of decomposed forest materials, and the ground was suspended 7 feet up the solid ground. I had to be extra careful. When I assumed to the position, it was an endurance squat I could brag about! With no ample balance, I pierced the tip of my trowel to the ground and held on to its handle for stability while I unloaded.   So much for shitting in the mountain! When I came back to the camp, the team was about to do some warm-up stretches.

Back to 9:30AM when we started the day by assaulting the grand daddy of Philippine Mountains (JM corrected and said that the transliteration would mean grandson), yet there were some from among us who started the day insulting the highest peak by not warming up properly and not bringing with them any trail food to spare (for we would be hitting the summit approximately at lunch time).

The walk around the rim of Venado Lake was a bit challenging because of the huge wet trunk that greeted us several meters away from the camp which we have to hurdle, plus the marsh area that sank our feet for 20 minutes of trekking. Before we entered the mini forest was a series of mud puddles where we also sank our feet, plus the hanging trunks on them that we need to crouch beneath them while splitting our legs wide apart so we won’t fall the mud puddles. It’s hard to imagine how someone can crouch while splitting his legs apart, yet it’s harder to actually do it.

Upon entering the mini forest, I felt something wrong: an upset stomach. I have to borrow Doreen’s trowel carried by Johann. The team advanced while I was attending to another unloading ceremony. It was my 2nd for the morning. It spelled some consequences later on.

After unloading for the second time, I hurried after the team.   After 10 minutes of uphill running, I found them already exiting the mini forest. It was a boulder scrambling and a dominant super steep grassland climbing from this point on to the summit. It was hot at first because the sun was preparing to position himself in the middle of the sky. Then, 30 minutes away from one of the peaks, it rained lightly, giving us a cold wind chill, fogging the view from us. It was also at this 30-minute distance from the summit that I weakened. I figured it probably was due to the dehydration I suffered from my last unloading, losing substantial bodily fluids, salts, and electrolytes.

Hazel was so psyched she was way ahead of us. Buds tried to catch up with her pace and they were the first two to reach the nearest peak. I joined them after 20 minutes maybe, and we waited for half of the team before pushing to the highest point of Mt. Apo. The entire team reached Mt. Apo 2 quarters after noon. We were all happy. We took a lot of pictures and did a lot of posing under the sun. We feasted on the pack of raisins I asked Louie to carry for me. When it started pouring lightly and seemed like a bad weather was ahead of us, we started trekking down. We all wanted to stay longer, but we were also pressed for time. We still have the Agco trail to traverse to exit Mt. Apo. We were all having this feeling when Hazel requested an advance team that could break the camp so our tents and other stuff won’t get heavily damped by the rain. So Me, JM, and Buds became the advance team. We descended the ultra steep terrain with quick feet. It cost our lower joints much, but we slightly cared. We were thinking of the condition of the team with heavy packs if our stuff got wet, and we would not permit that.

We descended the summit and reached Lake Venado in 35 minutes. To me and JM’s surprise, the guides and porters left us with minimum stuff to tend to. They have managed to grab almost all of our stuff and bring them away from the rain before we reached camp.

The rest of team came with no pattern of interval. The last few of them, pushed by Vic, had to endure a heavy downpour already. We waited until the sky cleared before we ate our late lunch at 2:30PM (we were nearing the end of our food supply).  Then we broke camp. The first group to leave camp was exactly 4PM. The tail left at 4:30PM. The guides and porters gave us a heads-up that we would be probably trekking until 1AM and that we would be having a 30-minute river trekking come midnight. We all psyched ourselves up.

The entrance of the Agco Trail was miserable. It was a swamp area. We were walking on mud mixed with swamp water. Our feet sank entirely up to our shins every time we took a step. Then a hundred of balancing acts followed shortly where we sort of like high lined trunks and branches over mud puddles. It was a 30-minute uphill with a tolerable (the mud puddles were not) slope. Then the trail shifted downhill. This was the most terrifying downhill trekking I have ever made as a mountaineer and as a person. I was constantly praying on the trail. One member could cause a serious traffic on the trail for merely ascending a certain area. Makeshift ladders were placed on walls so we could climb down. It was hard for us to trust these ladders from the looks of them. We doubt if they could carry our weights plus packs (and not to mention they’re wet!). So we only depended on them half-heartedly. Half of the time when climbing down on them our feet were pressed against the soil wall. The first one to have descended a ladder would have to coach half of the team down. This slowered our pace. In no time, our heads were already armed with headlamps.

Trekking up at night (last night) was difficult, but trekking down was five times as hard, especially on your fourth day of trekking when your legs and lower joints are starting to betray you.  We agreed to have our dinner (the last meal of the climb proper) at 9PM, wherever we find ourselves in the trail. But we were so beaten up that we were not talking for hours and we were just hoping that we would reach the river soon. We were like this for hours (like zombies ascending a mountain) when I was surprised to find out that it was already 10:30PM. The realization hit me --- my team was running on emergency gasoline already, they were like on auto-pilot mode. We would be glad to sit for a quick dinner stop but there was no space to do it. Ravines and precipices were in front of us, on our left side and on our right. Our two feet could hardly fit in any given landing the trail provided us with.  And if we luckily found a place for a dinner stop, what will we eat?

Somehow the sound of the roaring river below kept us from trekking down. The sound became louder and louder but we weren’t getting any closer to it. After cheating death for 3 times due to the loose rocks, miscalculated movements on the ravines, and the unexpected roots sticking out to trip and demoralize, I found out that I have been poisoned by a special thorn on my right palm. I tried to dislodge the feeling and separate it from the lumbar and knee pains I was already having so that I could focus more on the trail. Everyone at this point was making a hard attempt to psyche themselves. It was a heavy mental struggle. Our internal monologues were mainly composed of intrapersonal debates.
We reached the first river at the unholy hour of 11. The current was so fierce everyone of us needed the assistance of the porters to cross it. A few steps away, we decided to wait for the remaining members Johann and Gerald. While doing that, Awi’s team prepared fresh carrots for dinner, no rice, you just dip the carrot slice into a tuna spread, and that’s dinner! Hazel’s team, after days of performing better, slumped down individually where they saw it fitting, with their packs on. Sir Oli leaned on a tree and slept while Hazel accidentally leaned on him. I shared Dora and Buds last trail food as my supplementary dinner for the night. That was the last I saw before I also unknowingly doze off.

DAY 5:

12:30AM when Dora shook me awake. There was a faint utterance from her mouth but I figured that she was mentioning Johann’s arrival. I looked at the clock and was shocked that we all doze off involuntarily for more than an hour! I was in a daze, totally confused! We still have 3 more hours of night trekking and 30 minutes of wild river crossing ahead of us, I have a team that is sleeping in their unwanted position while shivering in the cold, and I still have Gerald to wait for. Johann, assured me that Gerald is not far behind, just 5 minutes away at most. At this moment, Johann dropped the bomb on me: he admitted that his knees had already betrayed him and that he will need to give his pack to a porter from this point on. The porter has done this 2-pack carry on the 3rd night of the climb, but doing it now crossing the raging river is insane. So when Gerald arrived in the area, I asked his condition, then consulted the guides and porters. While we were exchanging the explanation of situations (me explaining the condition of the team, and them explaining the doable river current), I was also busy consulting the Lord. After consulting God and the guides and porters, I woke the team up, consulted them, and presented to them our current situation plus what to expect. The team agreed to have an emergency camp in spite the fact that we have food supply problems. Gerald was peacefully adamant about the idea of the emergency camp because he has a plane to catch at 6AM. He appealed if I could give him a porter for himself and then allow him to push at this hour. This was one of my most difficult decision-making situations, but I have to come up with a decision fast because every second counted. And so I gave Gerald the strongest and fastest porter we have and then told the team to start finding spaces to pitch their tents. After that decision, the porter busied himself with collecting all of Gerald’s stuff while Gerald made some calls to Manila friends.

The memory of the hustling porter and Gerald on the phone lingered as I attended to Louie’s request summoning me to find my own space and pitch my tent. Louie and I made a few steps away from Gerald when Buds started appealing that for Gerald’s safety, I don’t allow Gerald to push. It was a reasonable appeal, but I told Buds Gerald has already made up his mind. But I told Buds that it was his prerogative to reason out with Gerald and convince him otherwise.
I don’t know what transpired between Buds and Gerald while me and Louie were pitching my tent on a cramped space full of thorny roots, but whatever it was, it made Gerald stay with us. We all felt at peace. It was around 3AM when Louie finally came inside my tent. I found out that he just came from helping Gerald pitch his tent for the first time in this climb. And when Louie crawled inside the tent, he brought with him the story of how the guides and porters caught forest frogs for dinner because we failed to give them a decent one.

We were supposed to wake up at 5AM and start trekking at 6AM, but we were all so beaten up that only 4 managed to wake up at 5AM. Hazel’s team was able to cook sayote soup from the last piece of sayote they were saving since day 2. While we were breaking camp, I told Louie that a hot Milo drink would suffice as my breakfast and could already start my engine. To my joy, Louie prepared me one.

The first part of the team left at 7AM. Gerald followed them at 7:15AM while Me, Buds and Vic comprised the tail and left at 7:30AM. Gerald was so amaze at the sight of the river that we caught up on him taking pictures after 7 minutes of trail running. He was now picking up a better pace and I think that running on river boulders is his thing. We caught up with JM and Hazel after 5 more minutes of river crossing. We made one major river cross where Hazel managed to take some good shots and the rest was a wild trail run. I seemed to have lost my daredevil mantras during the trail. Being a father made me extra cautious on the narrow trails with ravines on the side.

We caught up with Awi, Johann, and Dora at around 8:30AM. A couple of minutes more, we caught up with the rest of the team. From there, we experienced the most turbulent river crossings (for most of us). The current was so strong and it came from several directions. The river was dotted with ferocious boulders that we were aiding one another when crossing --- BMC applied to the fullest extent!

The last of the river crossing required a porter to submerged half of his body to aid us in crossing a two-log bridge (both were cylindrically small, and fixed side by side over an angry current) resting on slippery boulders to each side. Reaching the other side was a glorious feeling of defying death. The other side had sand too, and so we rested. It was our last rest stop. We took some pictures, some bathe in the calmer part of the river upstream, while Gilbert asked Kiko to take a video of him crossing the said two-log bridge again (this time, without the aid of anyone). We all watched in amazement as Gilbert did his version of high lining. I myself was jealous. I wondered where he could have mustered the courage and psyche for he was a dad too like me, both of us fathering a newborn baby girl. Anyway, he pulled it off so easily, with shades and all. Just watch the video when he uploads it.

It was past 9AM when the first part of the team pushed. The tail followed at 9:45AM. We have a new tail member: Hazel. Discovering Hazel in this climb as the new next strongest Jamboree girl climber to Twylah was one of my greatest joys of the entire climb. Anyway, it was steep but wide ‘runnable’ trail ahead of us, but before we could start trail running, a local kid amazed us with his incredible balance, agility and speed. This kid run over the two-log bridge Gilbert balanced on. He probably had just landed two steps on the bridge and he was already on the other side. Then there was the incident where one of his girl playmates accidentally dropped one of her slippers on the raging current. The slipper drifted swiftly downstream. Then, we all froze to where we were standing as we watched the skilled kid race after the slipper, hopping on boulders, and was able to fish the slipper with his bare hand out of the wild river. We all applauded him. It did not seem to matter to him – both his heroic antics and our acclamation. He continued to play, running from boulder to boulder as if he were the young Son Gokou. It was a good show that we all regretted to have had a frozen reaction: we weren’t able to document the kid. Up to now, the memory of the kid is so inspiring.

Every show has its end, and ours ended swiftly as the kid so we started trail running the last leg of the Agco Trail.  Finally, we reached the sulfuric part of the Agco Trail where sulfurs erupted in vast places of the ground around. Then, it was a sweet descent to where the rest of the team was. It was also where the habal-habal drivers were waiting since 11PM the night before.

The communal fear of riding the habal-habal in groups of three were over swept by the relief that we finally exited the hardest trail combo of Mt. Apo. After an hour of habal-habal riding over a rugged terrain we were officially at the foot of Mt. Apo.  We finished the supposed 4-day trail with an additional half day. Adding half a day to the climb was a decision we were all grateful for. Our body might have ached severely and scarred our minds from the trauma of the climb, but we were all blessed to have come out of alive!

Final tangential musings:

Around the world dedicated climbers are testing the limits of their bodies and minds with a single goal of moving climbing forward, foregoing the safety of calculated action and going out of bounds from their comfort zones. Behind every breakthrough in the progression of climbing, there's a true story of doubt and determination, intense effort to be triumphant, perseverance in the face of failure. From the alps, to the big walls, to the tropical rainforests, the people who chose climbing as a way of life share a commitment, to do whatever it takes to achieve their vision and raise the bar for all humanity. Modesty aside, putting this down in words serves as an empirical evidence of our contribution to the progression of climbing. We hope that this would be beneficial to climbers and climbers-to-be. And thank you very much for patiently reading this and being part of our marching band!