Making a mountain out of a molehill
The summer before I went away for college, a couple of friends and I set out for a three-day hike very much against my parents' preferences. I'd gone hiking before, but never long-term. We planned to scale Mt. Mandalagan in Silay (elevation according to various googled sites: 3,000 to 6,000 feet) and spend the night at Tinagong Dagat, a wide valley believed to be an old crater that turns into a lake during the rainy season and reverts back into a mossy plain during summer.
From Silay (a city about half an hour from Bacolod) we took a jeepney to an old hospital in Patag where the trail started. Everybody else had packs to carry, with the tents and stoves and food and water for ten people, and I had a tiny little backpack with a sleeping bag and I still had to stop a couple of times so they could load me up with more Red Bull.
Once, we stopped at a stream to wash up, and a dozen leeches with suckers at both ends of their body immediately attached themselves to my track pants. As night fell, we finally stopped at a clearing, built a bonfire, pitched our tents and slept uncomfortably atop twigs.
We got to Tinagong Dagat early in the morning and as the fog slowly lifted, I saw the most breathtaking sight.
This is Tinagong Dagat after a heavy downpour:
and on a sunny day:
We spent the day lounging and running around, the only people for miles. This was about ten years ago and everything felt untouched - our own little secret world. It was very Jurassic Park.
The descent was much easier and took quicker, with no more Red Bull breaks for me. For weeks afterward I felt closer to and hung out with the same group of people. I've never been back since and have lost touch with most of them.
I've been reading Bill Bryson's A Walk in the Woods and it brought back so many vivid memories of that summer - the rush of adrenaline I felt when we faced the first steep climb, my mother's rubber shoes caked with mud, my green parachute pants laid out to dry on top of a bush, the guy I had a crush on pulling me up an incline, standing in the middle of the plaza of Silay, grimy and skinny and smiling.
I've no photos of my own (they're in Bacolod) so I stole them here. And more here.
The summer before I went away for college, a couple of friends and I set out for a three-day hike very much against my parents' preferences. I'd gone hiking before, but never long-term. We planned to scale Mt. Mandalagan in Silay (elevation according to various googled sites: 3,000 to 6,000 feet) and spend the night at Tinagong Dagat, a wide valley believed to be an old crater that turns into a lake during the rainy season and reverts back into a mossy plain during summer.
From Silay (a city about half an hour from Bacolod) we took a jeepney to an old hospital in Patag where the trail started. Everybody else had packs to carry, with the tents and stoves and food and water for ten people, and I had a tiny little backpack with a sleeping bag and I still had to stop a couple of times so they could load me up with more Red Bull.
Once, we stopped at a stream to wash up, and a dozen leeches with suckers at both ends of their body immediately attached themselves to my track pants. As night fell, we finally stopped at a clearing, built a bonfire, pitched our tents and slept uncomfortably atop twigs.
We got to Tinagong Dagat early in the morning and as the fog slowly lifted, I saw the most breathtaking sight.
This is Tinagong Dagat after a heavy downpour:
and on a sunny day:
We spent the day lounging and running around, the only people for miles. This was about ten years ago and everything felt untouched - our own little secret world. It was very Jurassic Park.
The descent was much easier and took quicker, with no more Red Bull breaks for me. For weeks afterward I felt closer to and hung out with the same group of people. I've never been back since and have lost touch with most of them.
I've been reading Bill Bryson's A Walk in the Woods and it brought back so many vivid memories of that summer - the rush of adrenaline I felt when we faced the first steep climb, my mother's rubber shoes caked with mud, my green parachute pants laid out to dry on top of a bush, the guy I had a crush on pulling me up an incline, standing in the middle of the plaza of Silay, grimy and skinny and smiling.
I've no photos of my own (they're in Bacolod) so I stole them here. And more here.
2 Comments:
melai! i had to look at previous blog entries to confirm your statement (what a geek, huh?), and yes, i guess i am happy. haha. looking forward to going back to ateneo next week.
i love the photos you posted here. makes me wanna hike through Tinagong Dagat myself.
gani, san-o ta ma kit-anay man? are you coming home for the holidays? anyway, whenever and whereever it might be, i look forward to it! mwah!
hey drey! all my lies and truth are half-truths! so, are you going back to school?? that's exciting! and you're taking up lit!? yipee!
yeah, i'd love to go back there, but i don't think my paunch and i are going to be able to make that climb.
i'm not coming home this year. next year pa ang sched. it gets expensive.
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