mt. pulag the second time around

Five months after my first climb to Mt. Pulag, J and I went back to the mountain again. And because I found out in my first climb that a mountain as big as Pulag can change its mind about the weather in a whim, I came with little expectations but with a lot of hope. Of course, how can I give up? And what else is there but hope?

DENR Office
May 2014

​It was May and a popular season for climbing the mountain. J was finding it difficult to get a slot for a weekend hike so we decided to climb on a Friday (as the mountain was already full on weekends) and to save us from the challenge of looking for a group to hike with, we decided to go on our own (which J fondly calls a duo hike, one of the many we embarked on).

The thought that concerned me the most was the commute to Benguet and to the Babadak Ranger Station. Without the comfort of a monster jeep, I didn't think it was going to be easy to work out a reliable transportation. Frankly, I'm all for comfort in traveling and I find it quite stressful to plan trips that include numerous and various kinds of transfers. And I guess this is why I'm so very lucky to have a master travel planner for a boyfriend. J is so organized and sufficiently detailed as he planned for our trip. He made all the necessary arrangements for our duo hike to Mt. Pulag that May. All I had to do was buy my trail food, cook our camp food, pack my bag and ride the bus that took us to Baguio.

From Baguio, we went to the Slaughterhouse where we found the van bound to Kabayan. We asked the driver to drop us off in Bokod. From there, we met the habal-habal drivers J contracted for our trip. They took us to the DENR office for our orientation and then to the Babadak Ranger Station afterwards. These were the same habal-habal we took when we went back to Bokod the following day.

The van that took us to Bokod, Benguet from Baguio.

The habal-habal ride was a thrill in itself. Steep and muddy roads were a nice start to our adventure. In the Ranger Station, we met A and J, two newbie hikers who we decided to team up with to save on the guide's fee.

The habal-habal ride.

Our hike was fun albeit being relatively quiet (compared to the first time). There weren't as many hikers and the trail provided the peace and quiet I wanted. It wasn't as foggy unlike the first time I hiked and my hopes started building up.

Wild berries along the Ambangeg trail.

However, by the time we reached the Mossy Forest, the fog came out of nowhere and it was becoming too quiet for comfort. We pushed on until we arrived at the campsite and it was then that the rains came. Punishingly quick and hard. It scared me.

Foggy trail inside the Mossy Forest.

My guide reacted quickly and nonchalantly, finding a spot among the dwarf bamboos and sitting down. She must have had sensed my panic because she quickly came to my rescue and suggested I do the same. But my fear wasn't assuaged. Instead, it ballooned and the worse case scenarios came flashing in my mind like a montage. What if the rain continued until midnight? What if we couldn't pitch our tents? What if all of our clothes got wet? What if the rain turned into a storm? What if we got cold while having no shelter? What if we got hypothermia?

What if? It is easy to expect the worst of a situation especially when you're out of your comfort zone, when you're exposed to the elements, and when the circumstances push you to face the limits of your capability to control the situation. At that point when I was greatly terrified, I was reminded of the thought I started the hike with: what else is there but hope? Hope that the rain will stop. Hope that we can pitch our tents. Hope that we can come down from the mountain safe, healthy and unscathed. Hope that God will protect us.

​

And the rain did stop - as quickly as it came. And what ensued was a calm that made me thankful for a greater power. Up that high and at the mercy of the elements, I couldn't help but feel small. Compared to the vastness of the land before me and the force of the elements that could weaken me, I was nothing but a tiny speck. The space I occupied was but a grain of sand in a wide stretch of shore. And yet, I still felt significant - as significant as the smallest plant and the tiniest insect in that mountain. I was so overwhelmed by the thoughts that ran in my head that for a teary moment, I felt something in me moving and somehow an understanding dawned on me. We were able to pitch our tent without a glitch and it provided the warmth we needed for the night. Not a single drop of rain came from the sky that night.

We woke up early the following morning to resume our trek to the summit. It was dark and cold when we started our hike. But it wasn't wet and that was a good sign. But still, I didn't want to expect. I didn't want to get my hopes up only to be crushed again the second time.

Early morning and slightly groggy.

We got to the summit with enough time to wait for the sunrise. The clouds in the distance excited me. It was as if we were given a special privilege that morning. As the sun rose among the clouds that rolled like gentle waves in a calm sea, my heart was filled with awe and gratitude. God doesn't disappoint. Like a masterpiece unfolding before your eyes with God directing the movement of each element at a precise moment - it was the best show I have ever seen and one that inspired joy and love. Frankly, there are no words for the beauty I have seen that sunrise in May 2014, only feelings that fill my heart with goodness until today. Only God can do that.

J and I at the summit.
May 2014.

Best seat on the best show on earth.

Going down the summit with our new friends, J and A with our Mt. Pulag local guide.

The mossy forest on our way back was something out of a dream. The colors were vibrant and it was no longer the eerie place it had been the day before. It was joyful and warm, as if God has given us the perfect day. And a perfect day it was.

In Mt. Pulag's Mossy Forest.

Mt. Pulag
May 2014

meditation

"When you flip the switch in the attic, it doesn't matter whether it's been dark for 10 minutes, 10 years, or 10 decades. The light still illuminates the room and banishes the murkiness, letting you see the things you couldn't see before. It's never too late to take a moment to look." - Sharon Salzberg, Real Happiness: The Power of Meditation

the decisions we make

I was reading a daily reflection piece online that moved me,

"In every decision of life we are making ourselves a certain kind of person. It is possible that some can gain all the things they set their heart on, only to wake up suddenly and discover that they missed the most important thing of all. A true disciple is ready to give all that he or she has in exchange for happiness and life with God. The life which God offers is abundant, everlasting life. And the joy which God places in our hearts no sadness or loss can diminish."

It resonated with something in me. It brought up many questions:

What kind of a person am I? 

Am I happy with the kind of person I am?

What kind of person do I want to be?

Am I growing into the kind of person I want to be?

Am I making decisions based on who I want to be?

The reflection made me realize the simple truth that every decision we make - be it daily decisions (like what to eat, when to exercise, when and how long to rest, etc.) or the life-changing decisions ones (like who to let in our lives, who to let go, where to live, where to work, what to work for, etc.) - mold us into something. Hopefully, all those choices we make bring us closer to the person we want to be.

It got me thinking of what my life choices say about me and if it is aligned with the kind of person I have always hoped to become. It got me thinking about my priorities and whether those priorities are truly still important to me now. It made me happy to have this moment of true reflection, a moment of introspection so that I can know myself better.