Centennial trek winds up
a
It was supposed to be just a simple climb for fun but the centennial climb hosted by the Green Earth Mountaineers became a trek worthy of a day in the life of Cebu Katipuneros.
The Centennial Trek, organized to give participants a glimpse of Cebu's glorious past, kicked off at Fort San P edro where 11 mountaineers set off to visit Cebu's historical landmarks like the University of San Jose Recolletos and Tres de Abril St. where Pantaleon Villegas fought a bloody battle with the Spaniards.
From
the city the squad -- including a polio victim, a stroke survivor, and a judge
-- proceeded to Buhisan Dam. There the ill-effects of the El Nino and
the coming La Nina could be seen looking at the water filling up the dehydrated
soil.
Here it all began.
The guide was supposed to lead the team through a short cut to the RCPI tower where other members of the Club were waiting, but a slight miscommunication occurred thus resulting in a change of route, a longer one.
At ten in the morning the team left trail signs all throughout a dry riverbed that used to feed the dam, MCWD's watersource.
The scorching heat of the noonday sun dried the throats of the trekkers the way it sent a river off to temporary oblivion while spiny plants pricked and scratched the unprotected areas on the skin of the mountaineers.
A few clicks later just as canteens clanged with resounding emptiness the team reached an area appropriately nicknamed "forest of desolation" by a fellow trekker. The place looked like a soon to be dessert devoid of all life, plants hardly showed any trace of green. Exhausted and weary, the team stopped for a few moments under an almost non-existent shade provided by one of the many seemingly dead trees in the area.
The short rest revived some of the trekkers' energy and seeing a downhill trail relieved some because they thought it was easy which it was not.
The way downhill was a hard one considering the soil which was very loose due to lack of moisture. This was proven by this author when I fell on my buns and slid a few feet down the slope where I luckily found a dead sapling to hang on to like my life depended on it.
The team looked forward to finding water ahead but at the foot of the slope another dry river lay.
Onward went the trekkers, hurdling boulders, stooping under vines and brushing off insects of a genus that never got tired of pestering humans.
Then
relief came when the squad reached a part of the river slowly coming to life.
(By a stroke of luck, they chanced upon a family that lives in the vicinity
and who knew how to find fresh running water by simply digging with their
hands for a hidden spring in the river bed -- Ed.).
From hereon there was no place to go but up. Up the dry river and what were formerly waterfalls. For the remainder of the afternoon the team strained against gravity and the urge to drain all the liquid from their refilled canteens.
Night came the ascent continued following a path once trodden by revolutionaries who had a stronghold in the Babag hills.
With darkness came the rain.
But with the goal in sight, the lighted tower marking the campsite, nobody thought of turning back.
Drenched by the rain, engulfed by the fog, and pierced to the bones by the cold, the mountaineers hurdled a steep slope which was, this time, made slippery by mud.
The eerie night sounds of the place worsened the clattering of teeth of the less experienced mountaineers who lagged behind. But the determination of Jimbo, the polio victim, drove the tired onward and upward.
Covered in mist for the duration of the trip the trekkers seemed to be walking in clouds and breathed in an atmosphere that can only be described as heavenly.
It
was now close to midnight, thus, while resting some of the members way past
their bedtime sought shelter in an abandoned hut and snored for a while.
The long trip was taking its toll on the mountaineers who got drenched after
getting heated up in the uphill climb.
Just a short distance away loomed the campsite, a place where the heroes of Cebu left their footprints a hundred years ago.
With one final burst of superhuman effort the squad hurdled one last hill atop the Babag mountains, a feat that took their breath away.
The hill, however, was only partly responsible for knocking the air out of the trekkers' lungs. By then the clouds had cleared thus offering an awe-inspiring view of the metropolis, seemingly through the eyes of God.
It was one in the morning.