"Sure, you can exercise by playing basketball but can you tell stories like these about your games?" Judge P asked Vic, my collegue from San Miguel.
We just finished our 3:00 p.m. lunch at the Sala campsite after trekking and rapelling down from the Babag clifftower. Anecdotes and jokes flew fast and furious as we engaged one another and a handful of observers with animated conversation.
Judge P recounted their recent cross-country river trek from Boljoon to Malabuyoc. This was the fourth exploratory trek of the Green Earth Mountaineers in preparation for an eco-challenge competition it is organizing. Those who joined include Jojo, Rene, Edmund, Ross, and Lilibeth. Judge P had us chuckling as he narrated the antics of Ross who brought a plywood, again! (see Baybay trek). This came in handy when the trekkers had to lean on their floating backpacks and swim when the river got too deep. Done incorrectly the backpack will overturn -- almost drowning Judge P who grabbed a lifevest-wearing Lito who couldn't swim during their third trek. Ross didn't have to worry about that, he simply put his pack on top of the floating plywood. We warned Lilibeth that he is a character but she couldn't help laughing when he tied colored plastic straws to secure his sandals prior to the river trek.
Jojo and Lito had me drooling as they described the trail -- none really, except the river itself between two rockwalls; the wildlife -- leeches, giant fruit bats, freshwater lobsters, oversized ipil-ipil trees; and the people -- friendly and helpful. "We're going back there next weekend," Lito said. My face fell because I will be working on a video presentation on Saturday. "No, Tonette," he comforted me, "wait until the eco-challenge so you'll have more to be excited about."
This particular trek with rappelling in Babag is what I have been asking for after missing out on many GEM treks for three months. A day trek was just what my out-of-shape body needed for the grueling two-day river trek.
I arranged for a tree-planting activity for GEM at the San Miguel reforestation site in Kantipla with Vic. Due to a series of miscommunications, the four-wheel utility vehicle of Soil and Water Conservation Foundation was not available and so Vic borrowed the pick-up truck of Metro Cebu Water District. Both groups are San Miguel's partners in various environmental projects.
Judge P made other plans. He invited the people at the Sala campsite to trek with us to the Babag clifftower so they can plan and design the canopy walks they would construct for us in exchange for the legal services of GEM's lawyers. On our way to the tree-planting site Judge P instructed the driver to make a detour because he thought we'd do the trek first. The other members voted to do the tree-planting first, and the trek after lunch. But it wasn't meant to be -- the brakes of the vehicle malfunctioned and everybody had to get off. Vic stayed with the driver.
And so we went trekking: yours truly with Judge P, Lito, Jojo, Edmund, Ely and four scoutmasters. Almost got lost too, the trail was unrecognizable as more crops and wild plants grew around it. The rainy season has been kind to the vegetation but it made the trail slick and muddy. Judge P picked the Ladies' Trail again over the more challenging Pedro's Trail. "Why the Ladies Trail, when we there are no ladies with us?" Edmund asked. Realizing his gaffe he added, "It should be called "Lady Trail" because there's only one lady." Geez, and I thought he was confident I could handle the steep Pedro's Trail. Of course I can, minutes earlier I was mumbling to nobody and everybody that I was getting bored with the Ladies' Trail.
Not Jojo. It was his first time to try this route and he found it more tedious. It certainly was circuitous, and entailed some crawling through and under thorny rattan vines, over dried-up waterfalls, and a badly eroded rocky footpath through corn, banana and taro "gardens." By the time we got to the cave in the heart of the clifftower, Jojo's arms and legs were already covered with red cuts and bruises.
We resumed climbing by gingerly making our way up the fissure holding on to the sturdy roots and vines of the trees that clung to the limestone walls. It was a vertical rock climb and we had to use our arms to pull ourselves up instead of our legs because there was hardly any foothold to step on. Judge P was not even paying attention to us, he was busy explaining to the scoutmasters where and how he wants the ropes for the canopy walk. Jojo was right behind me when we both slipped, one after the other. Two loud thuds got his full attention, "will you two be careful, didn't I tell you to use your arms and to not trust your legs!?"
Feeling like a chastised child I grabbed the jagged cracks of the limestone with bare hands and heaved myself up in ten secs. Jojo got stuck. Panting, he ran out of air as the strength left his arms. I asked Lito if he can grab Jojo. "Oh no, he's much too heavy for me," Lito recalled their Malabuyoc river trek together when he had to drag Jojo. They finally got him up by using rappelling ropes and harness. The scoutmasters were pleased with their knowledge of which knots to use for this occasion. That was one of the stories they recounted with glee as we went over the day's highlights for the benefit of the caretakers at the campsite and Vic who came back with another vehicle. The scoutmasters were all elated to rappell for the first time. For sure they will be talking about it and bragging to their friends for months.
Ah, the wonderful tales we tell each other and friends. My personal favorite was the time when I got stuck, again, in that confounded branch midway. I was yelling down to Edmund to save me and he just yelled back, "there's nothing I can do, you just have to help yourself!" Damn it, #^*0!@#>x+& I followed all the instructions this time -- spread my legs, kept the arms behind me back, loosened the rope.
Earlier Lito warned the judge that the barometric pressure was shifting. "Huh?" Judge P said. Our president meant that the wind was blowing strong in changing directions. I sensed all the men's eyes on my 90-lbs. frame, then one scoutmaster remarked that maybe they should put some rocks or weights on my pack so I won't be blown away.
And so, after what seemed like an eternity of hanging there like a limp doll, gritting my teeth, tugging at the rope that wouldn't budge an inch, and sensing that the wind was gathering force again I called out to Edmund with more urgency, "Nothing's happening, I'm not moving. I'm really, really, really stuck here!" I didn't know 'till later that he could clearly see that from below because the rope was looped around a twig.
"You must free yourself, you have to cut the twig," he yelled three times. I wondered if he meant that I open my butt pack and get the machete wrapped in plastic bag to cut off the branches. What, let go of the rope? Ho-ho, I'm not going to do that again. Instead I moved my right hand to the front and the shift caused me to swivel sharply 180 degrees to the right and I was free again.
Only problem now is I couldn't put my right hand back behind me. Edmund was holding the rope below as a safety measure so I won't go down too fast. Realizing that I was ready to move on he gave the rope some slack and I resumed my descent, stopping only once for that Kodak moment 10 meters from the ground.
My hands and knees were shaking. "Do you see that," I held up one trembling hand to Jojo and Ely, "this is the last straw. I've had it with rappelling, I'll never do this again." On the ride back to civilization Lito turns to me, "we should try rappelling from a hovering helicopter." Well ... "
Nov. 15, 1998