flip'n travels

Pain is temporary. It may last a minute, or an hour, or a day, or a year, but eventually it will subside and something else will take its place.  ~Lance Armstrong

 As I approached Panar Laban, my feet gave in and I fell a few steps before I reached the door.I did not resist the fall. I sat down for minutes thinking it was a well deserved rest. Finally, I picked myself up and dragged my painful body inside the hut to sleep. 45 minutes later, Ron arrived and we started to prepare ourselves for the final showdown: the trip back home…

We hurried to the restaurant to eat our breakfast and started our descent. As was expected, I went on ahead and left Ron to the mercy of the mountains. After going past the 2 kilometer mark, I felt the burning pain on my feet. My muscles started to shake and my hands were blistered as I used a cane to support my weight as I go down. My ipod died on me and I had to hum ACDC songs to pick up my speed.

As I walked down, I met people asking me how the sight was. I told them about the place where we stopped and it was magnificent. I’m sure the sight on the summit was a hundred times more fabulous. I saw excitement on their eyes, much like our excitement the day before. And try as I may to complain about the pain I felt, I did not utter anything that would dampen their spirits. I was ashamed for even thinking of exhaustion when I see porters climb up with their heavy load.

The people I walked with were my distraction. We were talking non-stop even as we drink our fill on pit stops. I even saw a Japanese guy strumming a guitar as he climbed. We even got to sing a few songs before parting ways. I felt the pain leave my body as I met brave souls trying to conquer nature.

Finally, I saw the gate from where we started. I had to stop every few steps to rest. As I cross the threshold, I was almost close to tears. I made it out of Kinabalu alive.

Somewhere between the climb up, I thought of quitting. Looking back, I’m glad I didn’t. There was something about this crazy idea of mountain climbing that made me something else, maybe even something more…

I have conquered my metaphor of fear, I no longer fear pain…

OK, now that the biggest Philippine soap is over (READ: Elections), We’re back to our regular programming:

… We sat in silence as we drowned ourselves with fresh mountain air. We rested our bodies and stretched our limbs and savored every moment of being on top of Mt. Kinabalu. As much as we wanted to spread our arms and scream on the top of our lungs–“I’m the king of the world!” it’s too cliché, not gonna happen, we were also just too tired and the air is too cold it felt like it will freeze our brain if we open out mouth.

Monette’s obligatory victory smoke…

Antonio, my camera, seemed to be so affected by the temperature, the flash stopped working. I had to put it inside my jacket close to my body for several minutes for it to work. Good thing it did. I grew up in a tropical island and I am not accustomed to low temperature environment. Gripping a lens and fine tuning a focus rim in this unforgiving weather condition is a skill I have yet to hone.

The weak sunlight barely helped thawing our frozen ears, butts and fingertips. After an hour of sitting on a cold stone, and as much as we wanted to feel and enjoy the laurels of our climb, our knees were trembling vigorously, and so, we both agreed on starting our descend.

Finally, after a day and a half of uphill battle, the gravity will be working on our side, and it will be easier from that point forward… or so we thought. 

Monette decided to walk ahead of me. I started moving and the first few meters felt like heaven as the shift of tension on my body mechanics gave relief to my worn tortured muscles. But that was short-lived. 

After the first few hours, I started feeling a different kind of pain on my knees and distal limbs. My legs felt like that of a marionette’s. Having a strong background in orthopedic medicine I can visualize a physiology of my joints everytime I closed my eyes. Labral tear, patellar fracture, cruciate ligament injury and the list goes on. But that’s nothing as compared to the fear that we felt upon passing the plateau to a more dangerous part of the assault—the cliff.

It dawned on us that the wall we were climbing few hours ago was a part of a dangerous cliff. A sudden rush of cold air chilled my spine when I saw that we were walking on 85 degree wall of rock with embedded rope as our only life line. It was dark when we climbed so we didn’t see that dangerous drop. At that point, fear was amplified as we literally sat down and crawled slowly to advance down the cliff. One wrong move will lead to painful mortality. I was hyperventilating and NO I’m not yet ready to die, not excited to see H-E-Double hockey sticks, not yet.

There has been reported cases of climbers who fell in this cliff and never been found. Even if you survive the fall, no one can rescue you as the thick vast forest plays labyrinth to lost climbers. And even if you scream your soul out, the altitude, rock formations and trees may distort sound waves, making it impossible to identify your actual location.

Fear of gruesome death, cold temperature and body weakened by pain is not the best combination when you’re conquering a feat and you’re alone on a very dangerous situation. The safe landing flat form is still nowhere to be seen, all you can do is start moving and stop scaring yourself.

But one wrong balancing act may lead to death. With that in mind, I gripped hard on the rope while praying. This ordeal lasted for almost two hours. I got a safe spot on a protruded rock on my way down, and I sat there for almost 40 minutes for it could be my last rest. I closed my eyes and my mind went flat line.

I said to my soul, be still and wait… So the darkness shall be the light, and the stillness the dancing… ~T.S. Eliot

I never realized I’d be able to survive the 7-hour climb to Laban Rata. Unlike Ron, I never vowed to quit smoking but decided to swear off mountain climbing for the rest of my life. The agony was unspeakable as I approached Waras Hut, the first sign of a good night sleep. I moved closer to the hotel and went straight to the dining hall to gorge on food. The late comers started trickling in and Ron finally was able to drag himself to the chair beside me. He was close to dying.

We got our fill and drowned ourselves in coffee. The sun started to set as everyone stared in awe at the magnificence that was around us. The air was cold and heavy as we pulled our coats closer to us. At this point, we were not talking anymore of the pain we felt while climbing but the overwhelming feeling of being able to reach our first pit stop. My heart was swelling with pride.

After several cups of coffee and a couple of cigarettes, we decided to settle in our cottage, Panar Laban. Our group will meet Julius at 2am for dinner before heading to the summit. We had to walk a few hundred meters more before we arrived at our cottage where we found a Holland based couple who were celebrating their nth year together and decided to climb Mt. Kinabalu. The room was not heated much to our dismay. I had to put on all my clothes (three long-sleeved shirts, my jacket, a leg warmer, and pants) and hide myself under a cotton blanket plus two wool comforters. Ron did the same. We felt like we weren’t able to sleep properly because of the cold. Ron was even telling me I was talking in my sleep.

Our greatest fear was to not be able to move when we wake up, but our alarms rang and we automatically jumped out of bed and started preparing for the most difficult assault. We headed back to the dining hall and filled ourselves to the brim and dragged ourselves out of the hotel to assemble with the group and started walking.

Then the darkness enveloped us… The million stars did not help at all. We relied on our headlamps and the trail of people walking to the same destination. The cold was unbearable and the altitude made it more difficult for us to breathe. The frosted stones and wooden planks made it harder for us to climb all the more. The German couple we were with when we started climbing were long gone and our guide was nowhere in sight. Suddenly, we felt the terrain change. There were no more trees, only mammoth slabs of granite rock in front of us. And the rope that was to serve as our guide and support to the summit materialized. I was scared for my life.

The pain slowly started to make my body weak, so did the darkness to my heart. Ron whom I was encouraging earlier in the climb was now the one who was pushing me to go forward. Our headlamps mysteriously died off, we were leaning against a cold wall of rock and walking on what felt like a ledge not more than 6 inches wide. It was so dark that we could not see what was there below. Ron, due to freezing wind and fear, was trembling and repeatedly telling me “don’t lose the grip! don’t lose the grip!” I grabbed the rope and started walking while crying and cursing like I’ve never cried and cursed in my life. At some point, we thought we were the last people at the end of the line, we just wanted to sit and wait for the light of day. The only thing that kept me going was the thought of staring at god on the face. It was a chance I would never want to pass on.

Steadily, the dawn began to break and the rock we were trying to overcome became visible in front of us. We did not dare to look back lest our spirits lose courage.

Three hours, a little after passing Ugly Sister’s peak, we finally stopped. We have reached the plateu that goes up toLow’s Peak, the summit. Our legs refused to carry us any longer and we sat in silence.

I had great many challenges in my life. I guess the mountain is the manifestation of all things I need to overcome to be a better person. It makes me proud that Ron and I have done that.

Now I know why mountain climbers have to do what they do. To stand on top of the world and to realize how tiny we are and how insignificant we are in this immense universe is the most humbling feeling. And to be a part, to be a speck, to be a stardust in this infite space gives us a sense of belongingness. After drowning in darkness, I was able to emerge. I do have a brave heart after all.

Faith is walking face-first and full-speed into the dark. If we truly knew all the answers in advance as to the meaning of life and the nature of God and the destiny of our souls, our belief would not be a leap of faith and it would not be a courageous act of humanity; it would just be… a prudent insurance policy. ~Elizabeth Gilbert

7 1/2 hours to Laban Rata…

4 hours to summit…

13,435 ft worth of intense pain, altitude sickness and freezing temperature…

So here you go beckies and gentlemen!

Kwento later…