Normally, when you’re exhausted, it takes no effort at all to fall into sleep. But I doubt that any of us got a decent shut-eye that night because, despite the blankets, it was hella cold. Especially towards the dawn, I think the temperature dropped somewhere between 6 and 8 degrees Celsius. And the wind was so strong, too, that I thought a storm was coming. When the lights turned on at 3:00 am, everyone just roused easily, mayhap because they have been awake all along.
For my part, I woke up countless times through the night, checking the time on my phone and feeling frustrated, thinking “WHY ISN’T IT 3 AM YET!”
(This is the second of a 2-part blog series on the Mt. Ugo Traverse I joined last January 12 & 13, 2019. All photos are mine, unless otherwise indicated.)
Read the first part about this traverse on here.
By 4 am, everyone has all packed up and ready to go. Those who couldn’t function without coffee already had their first cuppa for the day. We weren’t even out of the classroom where we stayed the night, and we were already close to freezing our a$$es off.
Then our two guides arrived and, around 4:20 am, we set off for the assault to the summit.
It was cold, and it was dark, and the chill was unforgiving. Each of us went on our own pace, and at one point I remember being alone, with no sign of the headlamp of the one before me, and of those behind me. Just me and the sound of my harsh breaths and rapid heartbeat as I slowly trudged up the trail, in partial darkness (partial because I had my own headlamp on).
That moment, I was reminded of my FIRST EVER CLIMB, way back in 2017. It was also around 4am when we started the assault for the summit of Mt. Pulag from the campsite. The conditions were much harsher then, because there was a storm brewing. I remember feeling short of breath that time, to the point that I thought I’d pass out, had I not stopped for a few seconds to regain my bearings. (You can read about my visits to Mt Pulag here.)
Several times I had to stop so I won’t overdo it. It was a matter of listening to your body and relying on your senses, I suppose. Plus I loved the silence that surrounded me. Forget the cold, there was a sense of serenity to be had at that moment.
But, of course, I always looked forward to arriving at the summit.
In this case, however, our stop was not at the summit, exactly, but at the campsite, because that’s where you’d get a view of the sunrise.
It was 5:25 when I finally arrived at the campsite, dropped my bag and sat my butt down on the cold, hard ground, and started the wait.
The wait wasn’t boring, though. Sure, it was cold and all, and the wind chill factor wasn’t letting up. But stories flew around and laughter filled the air. There were campers that spent the night at the campsite, and our arrival most likely roused them. Others also started heating some water for more coffee and cooking breakfast. Others, me included, just sat there, waiting.
It was 6.28 am when the horizon started lighting up.
It was a slow burn. At least, that’s how it felt to me.
To say that all exhaustion the previous day and just the hour before melted away as the sun rose would be an understatement. You know how, when faced with something so beautiful, you tend to forget everything else, as if your mind is a slate wiped clean?
This was one of those moments.
Hunger pangs were also momentarily forgotten as everyone got into the mood of taking photos. Lots of them.
This tree looked dry and dead, but it was able to take my (plus more) weight, so I’d like to think there’s a bit of life left in there. And who wouldn’t feel alive, when seeing the sun rise every morning, from this vantage point?
I loved how everything seemed to turn into having a hint of gold as the sun came out even more. The trees, the sea of clouds, the blades of grass…
The sun practically transformed this part of the mountain into something so gorgeous you don’t know where to look.
I love sleep, but if you are to ask me to choose between getting a few more minutes or an hour of sleep and getting up early to witness this beautiful scene, then hands down, I’d choose the latter.
At times like these, I feel blessed to be seeing this, when there are many others who are unable to do so.
The best part, personally, would be feeling that heat from the sun permeate my skin. It makes the experience more real, you know what I mean?
We had breakfast while watching the sun slowly rise up higher in the sky. We were also mentally preparing for the hours of descent ahead of us, because we know it’s going to be much tougher, especially on the knees.
Someone even described it as ‘basagan ng tuhod‘ or, literally, “knee-shattering”. That’s… not really a comforting thought, but hey, it’s not like we can turn back, right?
At 7:35 we all geared up again and made that short hike from the campsite to the summit.
The summit is literally that: the highest point of Mt. Ugo. And when we got there, there was an abundance of dwarf bamboos, which again reminded me of the Mt. Pulag summit. (Are there still any of those dwarf bamboos at the summit today, tho?)
From the campsite, the hike to the summit took roughly 20 minutes. A bit further was the sign or marker indicating your location. Of course, cue for more photos to be taken.
As much as we wanted to hang around for a bit longer, we know we couldn’t put things off any longer. We had to get started on getting back down.
From here, the knee-shattering descent began. And what a steep descent it was. There were long drops, unfriendly terrain, and basically a steep slope, which went on for more than 30 minutes, until the trail became slightly friendlier, angle- or slope-wise.
Still, at many points, you cannot help but stop and appreciate the view that you are given.
I can see why this is a favorite among trail runners; it’s perfect for it.
I’ve no aspirations of being a trail runner, though. Or being a runner, for that matter. I like to stop, take my time, walk, and smell the roses. Figuratively, of course. Although I won’t mind seeing a wild rose on the mountain trails.
Except for cows grazing here and there, we didn’t meet anyone on the long trail, despite the fact that this is also an entry point among hikers bound for Mt. Ugo.
At one point, there was just Christine and me, and we wondered if we were on the right track. But we kept pushing on, following the trail before us. Thankfully, we all soon converged, so our instincts were right, haha!
I had several slips, and a couple of times I even ended up sitting on my bum, which then caused a fit of giggles escaping from me, because REALLY, IT WAS BOUND TO HAPPEN, especially when you mix ME and LOOSE ROCKS on the trail.
The descent certainly causes a lot of strain on the legs, especially the knees. For me, it was my thighs that started to burn. And I just knew that it’s going to be a sore Monday and Tuesday for me.
At 10:45, we arrived at this shed by these rice fields… which marked the part that we were getting close to civilization.
We arrived at a sitio and rested for a good 20 minutes on a kind soul’s front yard, before pushing off again. By this time, our enemy was the heat of the sun, because as cold as it gets at night and during the dawn, it can get hellishly hot in the middle of the day.
And it was the kind of heat that you’d imagine is going to burn through you. I had faith that my trusty sun cream is gonna help me out, though.
At 1 pm, at a “trailside” store, some of us even took some momentary relief from the heat by eating halo-halo and iced juices. Then continued on again.
When we arrived at this hanging bridge, we knew we were getting close to the end of the trail.
This is actually where it got the hottest, because we were walking practically unprotected from the sun. The pathway was concrete, but the heat made every step almost an ordeal.
I think this was where the real test was for some of us, haha!
Finally, at 2:15 pm, roughly 6 hours since leaving the summit, we arrived at the waiting shed in Sitio Cayoco, the jump-off point for those going up Mt. Ugo using Itogon as the entry point. There, our jeepney ride was waiting, and took us to the Barangay Hall of Tinongdan, where we had some refreshments, tried our best to freshen up, and also get our Certificates issued by the Barangay.
I didn’t know what I expected prior to this climb, but I sure as heck did not expect to have this much of a blast. The company was great, that’s for sure, and this group even arranged to do another long hike in a couple of months. Which I look so forward to, and plan on joining again. That time, I resolve to be more prepared, haha!
This Mt. Ugo Traverse is certainly going to be one of the more memorable climbs/hikes I’ve ever had, for numerous reasons. But then again, every climb I go on is etched in my memory for some reason or another.
I truthfully did not expect to be able to go up Mt. Ugo, since it was never on top of my radar, so to speak. I’m just glad that I got to do so before throughts like “I’m too old for this sh*t” start crowding in my head. There are still lots of adventures waiting for me, and I hope to be able to grab as much as I can of them.
In conclusion, with this as my first climb, I think I made the best start for this adventurous year 2019.
(Thanks to each and every member of the Why Hikers, as this group came to be called, and also Sir Daniel Feliciano of The Cordilleran Sun for organizing it. Until next time, folks!)
you’re a great storyteller with a fantastic grasp of English. And a true adventure spirit. Thanks!
Thank you for thinking and saying so~!