“ Whatever agonies and miseries the sufferer may endure on his pilgrimage to the heights, and however often he may swear never to return there, the longing to do so is certain to recur.” —————————————————————————————— C.F. Meade, British Mountaineer
(Aug. 17-18, ’02)
DAY 1
It became a reunion of sort for us six pioneer members of Escape last weekend as we decided together to leave again our comfort zones to heed the call of the mountains. Our Japan-based friend Bob have just arrived from his 3-month stint so he was able to join us on this trip. After fueling up with Nwell’s famous fried boneless bangus with rice available at (Tabs & Bobs) in his house in Cavite, we hit the road and headed to San Juan, Batangas to climb Mt. Daguldul. We all agreed to make this an exploratory trip to discover a new place since all of us except Leon have already been to the more accessible Pico de Loro.
Trusting the driving expertise of our hunk pilot Pane, we tried to doze off the supposed 3-hour journey but found this impossible with Nwell constantly singing his lungs out in the front seat. Of course, this road trip wouldn’t be complete without the usual exchanges of personal insults and obscene banter that only the pioneer members have the stomach for. But we are clearly again in our element. In fact, we got so distracted that we missed the bend on the highway and overshot the town of San Juan, Batangas by more than 25 kilometers, until Nwell realized we were already in Candelaria, Quezon! We even stupidly mistook Mt. Banahaw for Mt. Daguldul. Pane quickly turned around and we eventually reached Brgy. Laiya in San Juan (our take-off point) at a little past 1 p.m. There we saw some mountaineers readying their gear beside a 4x4. Though we expected company at the summit, we were surprised to see more than 50 people from different clubs already registered that day. After a quick lunch of Nwell’s special marinated porkchops with rice (also served at T & B), we hired a friendly guide named Mar who claims to be a former CAFGU.
Our trek began with a nice leisurely stroll along a sandy beach lined with a row of bancas and private resthouses. The far end revealed a more rugged coastline strewn with rocks and dead coral fragments exposed by the receding tide. Our pace quickened to beat the 4-hour average hiking time as we gradually moved inland towards the forest trail leading to the mountain. The sand and surf scene was now replaced with lush tropical greenery. We were lucky to be blessed with overcast skies and a balmy weather that we were able to walk continuously without breaking too much sweat. But reality caught up with us as the terrain became steeper. Our strained legs and knees now started to groan with each uphill step. When Nwell quipped “I think we’re getting too old for this,” I couldn’t agree more.
We trudged on for hours deeper and higher into the mountain. Trampling the decaying undergrowth and avoiding the occasional horse/carabao dung that littered the damp narrow trail. Hordes of tiny ants with attitude rule the landscape. The trail became unforgiving and made treacherous by the slippery mud. In between our panting, we sometimes pause to admire the grandness of nature around us. A just reward for all our struggles. To his credit, Mar is a conscientious guide. Always making sure that none of us will lose the way. Patiently waiting for whoever is lagging behind. He shared that Mt. Daguldul got its name from the sound created by thumping an enormous tree that used to stand in the middle of the forest but has since been cut down for timber. Along the trail, Nwell encountered a young farmer named Ben who offered to let his packhorse carry his bag (at no charge) all the way to the campsite since he happens to live within that area.
A light drizzle and a cacophony of insect sounds heralded our arrival at the campsite around 6 p.m. Mar chose for us a nice elevated spot far from the maddening crowd of campers (I counted more than 20 tents in there) in the grassland below. It was a small outcrop on a hill barely able to accommodate our two tents but offers a stunning eagle’s view of the province of Batangas. You can recognize the familiar outlines of Mt. Maculot and Mt. Banahaw in the far horizon behind a thin veil of mist. We pitched our tents with darkness closing in.
It could be either Nwell’s magnetic charm and legendary mass appeal or the mouth-watering scent of fried porkchops filling the air that prompted Ben to visit our camp that evening accompanied by his 3 friends. A guide from another group also joined in our camaraderie. A light fog later rose to envelop the camp. Nwell playfully tried to slice the white smoke with the long, powerful beam of his headlamp a la Anakin Skywalker (he coerced me to mention this, really!) but he ends up looking more like Jabba the Hutt fiddling with Yoda’s lightsaber during a drinking session with the dwarf jedi. And speaking of drinking session, that’s exactly what followed. With Master Bartender PJ dispensing shots of his Beefeater Gin-Tang Pomelo potent mix, our newfound friends Mar, Ben and company shared with us through the night their in-depth comparative analysis of the different mountaineers they have guided in the past.
DAY 2
Early the next morning, we jumpstarted our nerves with cups of strong “barako” coffee sweetened by “asukal na pula” compliments of Ben. We broke camp and quickly proceeded to the peak before the congregation below beat us to it. After at least a 30-minute hike, we found ourselves alone on top of Mt. Daguldul, awed by the breath-taking view of Batangas province under our feet and the idyllic Tayabas Bay in the distance. We sat quietly for a few minutes on this immense barren rock covered with random patches of moss and breathed the cool summit air. Finally, another Escape goal was achieved.
After the mandatory “kodakan” and the Let-the-world-know-we-are-here-right-now texting frenzy (full-bar sa peak!), we began our long arduous descent. We traversed on the other side of the mountain and found the same forest trail we took on the way up. Our muddy ordeal will be repeated. Only this time, there were small rewards along the way to alleviate our suffering. We stopped by a small clearing in the forest where two boys were already waiting for us with freshly chopped bukos. We drank greedily the sweet juice and ate its contents till our stomachs were ready to burst. There will still be nilagang mais and delicious halo-halo waiting for us along the trail. With gravity on our side this time, it didn’t take us too long to finally get down the mountain.
What better way to cap our adventure than with a rejuvenating swim in La Luz Beach Resort. We frolicked in the sand like horny teenagers and let the huge barreling waves crash in our naked bodies and send us tumbling ass-and-tea-kettle towards the shore. Boy, we had a glorious fun time! With nothing but the big empty sky above us, our heads bobbed in the surface of the salty water with our faces grinning like crazy. While anticipating the next round of big waves swelling up in the horizon, we became children again. Seeing life the way we’ve seen it before in the countless other sublime places that Escape has found itself in.
(written by Gary J. Liong)