Lost in time

CEBU, Philippines - She refused entry to an all-female climb we organized in April 2004. On her black brownish foot, at the La Carlota City side (Negros Occidental), lies Barangay Ara-al where we had to camp out amid a gloomy atmosphere of her ash spews and restiveness. We had to contend with her foul temper. We had to submit to her mood swings. After all, what’s the label “unpredictable” for?

Being the most active volcano in the Visayas, Kanlaon, erupted 25 times since 1886. Said eruptions were described to be “typically phreatic explosions of small-to-moderate size that produce minor ashfalls.” This means the eruptions could come without warning, making it the most dangerous place to be on this side of the earth!

We contented ourselves with what pleasure and bliss Abaga Falls could offer before breaking camp. And, miserably, we bid her farewell as we endured pangs of pain conveyed by that aborted climb.

Seven years later, I still hoped against hope she would allow us in — even for a moment (I was with climbing buddy Cris Comendador this time). The trek may have ingrained a journey to the grave, but I do admit I was astir at her restlessness.

It was a delight to finally get a permit from the Office of the Protected Area Superintendent headed by Biologist Angelo “Eioi” Bibar to enter into Mount Kanlaon National Park via the Guintubdan Trail in La Carlota. It was a relief to have found the most able “sherpa” available from May 20-22 in the person of Paul Anthony Oliveros of Murcia town. It was enthralling to be up there on the awesome but creepy summit crater – 8,000 feet above sea level.

“The most important thing is not being concerned about having the money, time or skills to climb, but the desire. Don’t think too hard. Just do it.” This wisdom I imbibed from Junko Tabei, the first woman on Everest.

Those were always my concerns — fees, getting fit for the challenges, how to survive the elements. And always, nature works well, in deep sympathies to my frailties and imperfections. The downpour came before we could even take a single step into the established DENR trail which takes about an hour to the emergency campsite near Buslogan Falls where we could fetch water for the “cookout”.

When the rain stopped and the fogs cleared, we started the journey. Compared to my Mt. Talinis climb in September 2010 (Oriental Negros), the MKNP canopy is not as dense. In fact, sunrays could penetrate parts of the earth. I could see clearly how those creepy black and green leeches found their way into my boots, my socks. Then, I lost count of them as I got accustomed to their pretty annoying presence! Or was it the other way around?

The ascent was gradual with 45 degrees slope. With a difficulty of 7/9 and being the shortest route, the climb allowed the body to adjust well and immediate to the changes in altitude. With unlimited supply of anions, the lungs display moments of vigor and vitality. Heartbeats become audible, in synchrony with the crunching of trodden twigs and sloshes of mud and forest litter. But boy! The thermostat dropped 11 degrees Celsius, making fingers numb, sending knees a-jerking and tummy a-throbbing.

On Day 2, we continued the ascent at 7 a.m. so that by 1 p.m. we were 1.10 kilometers away from the summit crater. Intimidating Mount Kanlaon was draped in thick mist but we saw her verdant shoulder called “Saddle in the Sky” replete with grasses. Her neck somehow displayed telltale signs of horror as hurled boulders and loose rocks were scattered in ecstatic jumble.

Paul said it would take another 30 minutes to scale the saddle. But we could not assault in such a state! “We have to wait for the area to clear,” he reminded us of one mountaineer who fell off a ravine when negotiating downhill on a foggy afternoon. He also pointed to us where “fallen comrade” Neil Perez breathed his last. And he mentioned of those foreign mountaineers who either perished or got hurt when Kanlaon sent her fury in episodes of phreatic explosions in 1996 and in 2008 while they were standing at the summit. Bless their souls! I know now what they had to endure for the love of climbing.

Since it would be risky to push through summiting with the winds getting stronger and the veil of fog getting thicker, we decided to pitch tent at the campsite, a good distance from the Pagatpat Ridge. The location was nice because it was hidden from view and we had all the trees in the world as windbreakers. We busied ourselves tying up a makeshift rain shelter, preparing meals. Ah! Coffee and rainwater taste so good after a draining two-day walk to the shoulder of Kanlaon. Will she be so gracious as to let me - and Cris - in this time?

At 4:30 p.m. of May 21, the very day predicted to be end of the world, we were allowed to get a glimpse of the portal of one of the scariest places in the Visayas. The mist gave way, like pulled curtain on a commemorative wall. Paul showed us the rock – the Hagkanan - which serves as gateway to the mountain. And on it we, the first-timers, planted reverential kisses.

Mount Kanlaon is gorgeous but she has this atmosphere of eeriness. She is truly very beautiful but she scared me to death when one side of her with deposited rocks crumbled. The landslide sounded more like a roar bellowing from her bowels, a guttural cry. And in less than five minutes, we backtracked at the sight of tawny smoke billowing from the dregs of the earth.

We only craved for a second. She gave us around four minutes to wander (and wonder) at her sheer presence. Then, haze embraced her again. We had to hurry down before losing good sight of the winding path covered with extremely beautiful blooms sans proper names.

We were laughing at how we reacted to our sightings of death! “Mahadlok sad diay ta mamatay sa? Abi nako, we’re ready to go if doomsday’s indeed today!?” We went nuts poking fun at our experience.

Had we given up too soon, we might have never discovered that sublime impression she created on us. Had we dropped the plan for good, we might have missed that grand and imposing entrance to the Unknown.

We were right to have stopped only when the journey’s done. To have paid attention at how Kanlaon would want to rewrite our expedition. Indeed, no climber – even the seasoned ones – can underestimate her. At certain points, she’s a hottie. At times, she’s wrapped by her own desolation. She allowed some to kiss her, tickle her, dance on her, drink from the pools of waters collected on her breasts at the raincloud’s initial bursts. She hid herself to some. She even claimed lives!

But on May 21, when we were supposed to watch the earth melt, crumble, and disintegrate — we were snatched by some kind of rapture! We had her for less than five minutes, and we were extremely awed!

For at her disposition, we witnessed how fleeting life is, like the morning dew.