Gone in Nagcarlan

During the start of June, I declared to be on a climbing hiatus, for several reasons mentioned in a previous entry. However, I wasn't able to live up to that declaration because of a previous self-promise that I deemed more weighty. It was a promise of going to at least one out-of-town trip or adventure trip every month, in fulfilment of my ultimate goal of travelling all over the world someday, (beginning with my home country).

And so, towards the end of June, I abruptly began planning for a day climb with Adventurebuddy. I wanted to go with my staple go-out friends, whom I got to take interest in climbing, but they unfortunately had other plans that weekend. In the end, after much anxiety and hesitation for fear of accidents and inability to respond properly to situations, Adventurebuddy and I went on to climb Mt. Nagcarlan in Laguna four days before the month ended.

It wasn’t an easy trip not only because we didn't train for it but also because it wasn’t an ideal time for climbing. It was the rainy season and the recent storm had just passed. Because of this, the mountain was swarming with a thousand newly-hatched, starving, dengue mosquitoes whose bites go through clothing and who happily fed on my blood. By the end of the climb, I got almost a hundred bites, mostly on my upper left back thigh. Not a great souvenir at all.

Moreover, because no one have been using the trails, vegetation already covered some parts of it, causing us to get lost several times and forcing us to make our own path. We climbed over fallen bamboo trees enveloped by black ants, walked through bushes and spider webs, and earned scratches and cuts in the process. At first, it was a bit delightful. But after 30mins of constantly diving through thick foliage, I started thinking of being lost forever. I recalled the episodes I saw in the Discovery Channel about people getting stuck in the wilderness and almost dying, ("I Shouldn't Be Alive"). Fortunately for them, they have 911 and forest rangers. Unluckily for us, the Philippines has a non-efficient and unreliable system of those.

The disappearing trail

Anyway, after almost an hour of being lost, we spotted an ill-constructed hut and headed for it. And then, we were back on the trail. We reached the summit almost at noon, an hour late from our IT. Although it had

a magnificent view of the lakes,

the nearby mountains,

and the towns below,

we couldn't quite enjoy it because it was too hot. There was absolutely no shade and we just resolved into enveloping ourselves under the "banig" Adventurebuddy brought. After 30 minutes of trying to hide from the sun, we decided to go down to have a real shade under the trees.

White cross erected at the summit

Although we were mostly alone during the whole trip, we did meet some interesting characters. First, there was Manongtricycledriver who kept trying to converse with us amidst the riotous noise of the tricycle on our way to the Barangay Hall. It was really loud and it was difficult to hear each other because of that and the strong wind but he kept bragging to us about how often and how conveniently he would climb the mountain--how tired he was of it already. Although he was kind enough to direct us to the right registration area, he may have also over-charged us. Anyway, he was more helpful than harmful.

Next was Manongnapaakyatdin whom we met after getting back to the trail. He was with his dog, whom he called Blackie and who kept barking and coming at us, and his horse, who looked very exhausted and unfortunate because of his heavy load. Manong politely invited us to walk with him to avoid getting lost (although we already did). We tried to keep up with him  but we were already very tired and ended up way behind him. At times, we would be able to catch up with him because his horse would stop out of extreme exhaustion. I was quite thankful every time that happened. However, he would immediately start hitting and scolding the horse to keep going. It was pretty obvious that the horse is already worn-out, especially that it carried all the supplies, but Manongnapaakyatdin didn't seem to care. Either way, although he mistreated his horse, in my opinion, he was still kind enough to point us towards the peak.

Lastly, there was Mang Bibing whom we met on the hike down. We were taking a break from the afternoon sun when we saw him walk towards us. We asked for directions towards the highway and to Pansol and he was happy enough to give it in detail. Afterwards, he asked if we know someone interested to buy land. If not, he said we could look for one and inform him about it so that we could share commission. He was basically hiring us as real estate agent. Although we promised to come back if ever a buyer comes up, I don't think that will happen, especially that we really don't intend to actively look for a buyer.

Anyway, those three strangers all have one thing in common. They kept asking us where the others are and why was there only the two of us. Although I understand that it was more customary to climb in groups, I still wish that people not get surprised if they see something out of the ordinary.

Cheers to climbing and to random people.

Mt. Nagcarlan