Rambo Polygon and Mount Amuyao

Batad's "Amphitheatre" Rice Terraces from the trail above

That's the water-carved 'trail' between Rambo's legs

The hike was beautiful and difficult, but not too slippery. All I had to do was remember Mt Kanlaon, and this mountain seemed like cake. Usually, people climb the much shorter, other side (there are stairs made with roots and branches there), and then down the way we had come. Instead, we started at the location of lowest elevation and climbed up. People asked why we chose the hardest route, and Piotr and I explained why we prefer climbing to descending. Descending is hard on the knees and has more potential for slips and falls. Especially on these slippery mountains.

The night before we climb, Rambo warned us about the New People's Army one minute, and listed fees the next. Fifty pesos in Pat-yay, the jump-off village at the base of the mountain, and fifty pesos in Barlig, the jump-off village on the other side of the mountain, were supposed to be for trail maintenance. Then he told us there was a 100 peso fee at the summit for the "guards" of the Globe cell tower, collected without a receipt to pay for water and supplies for the guards. Then 20 pesos in Barlig for the police. It paints a picture of risk with authorities and locals alike, and dependence on Rambo. This image slowly dissolved throughout the hike.

Approaching tiny Pat-yay

Lunch in Pat-yay

We left Batad just after sunrise following a trail that gave us a great view of the Batad Rice Terraces, which are often described as an "amphitheatre". We passed above the waterfalls from the day before and continued towards the town of Pat-yay. It's a small village of only 40-50 homes, with no road nearby. Any bags of cement, junk foods, or other materials that can't be gathered from the natural surroundings have to be carried in from Batad. We took the time to cook lunch in Pat-yay because Rambo claimed there was no burnable wood where we planned to camp that night. The campsite was supposed to be about 1-2 hours from the summit. We gorged ourselves, rested a little bit, and stored the leftovers in plastic bags for the rest of the journey.

Aerating the boots

What was supposed to be a 3-4 hour hike to the campsite metamorphosed over and over again as we climbed. Wherever we were in the hike, Rambo would give ETAs to the campsite ranging from 1 to 7 hours. He would say it's another 2 hours to the campsite; and then, after 2 hours had passed, he would say it's 3 hours to the campsite as if he'd never given a prediction. He understood plenty of English, but would feign poor English when he lied. It was more complicated than it sounds because of his intriguingly charming personality. He had a wonderful smile, he was exactly the same age as Piotr and I (we asked him before he knew our ages), and he made plenty of jokes that may or may not have been told many times before. Some of his jokes were distasteful towards women, but some of them were slow to come out that you didn't realize it was a dirty joke till he finished telling it. Any small reprimand or showing of distaste came out as broken as the original joke. When we exposed one of his lies about the climb, the discussion came out like we were discussing a joke.

Gearing up to leave Pat-yay

When Piotr and I asked when the last opportunity to gather water from a stream would be, Rambo replied that there would be one more and then the next water would be on the other side of the mountain. So once we reached a very small trickle of water from a mountain spring, we asked him if this was the last water, and he affirmed it was. I drink a lot of water, and knowing we still needed some to cook rice for dinner, I filled up 3 of my 4 water bottles. I carried those 4 liters or so until we reached the summit...

At one point, he randomly started carving out walking sticks for us all to use. Didn't realize until soon after that we would actually need them. The shrub-covered washes we had been following for the majority of the way, gave way to mossy forest. We weren't walking on solid ground so much as moss-covered branches that had fallen to straddle large, sprawling tree roots. Sometimes there was this kind of  'floor' underneath you, sometimes your foot stepped 2 feet deep into a gap between the roots. The walking sticks gave a split-second warning--sometimes.

Now for the second half of the climb

Steep from bottom to top

I hike a little differently than Rambo and Piotr. They preferred a steady slow movement. I prefer to keep my momentum going, so I try to flow forward or upward or both. Once one foot is planted, my weight doesn't stop, that foot rests while my weight and the other foot come forward. Try walking a long distance or climbing steps when you're tired, and you'll realize you probably want to take it slower too. It just doesn't make sense if you have to keep it up for a really long distance. Especially if I'm a little bit fit, I don't move that way. If there are easier or flatter sections, I slow down and breathe deep into the muscles that are tired or sore. Same for if I take a break. I asked Piotr and Rambo to stay ahead because they preferred that slow and steady pace. So I would wait for them to move some distance ahead, then move at my pace. When I caught up to them, I would stop and let them move ahead again. Piotr said that when he looked back at me, resting on my walking stick, I looked like an elf---poised, motionless amid dense foliage as he moved forward. I laughed so hard, and I admit... I loved feeling like an elf.

Mossy forest

Following behind Piotr up through roots and
walking on a bed of moss-covered fallen branches

The sun touched the horizon and we still weren't at the 'campsite' yet. There was still plenty of wood around, and I was looking at what I could see of the skyline ahead, hoping for the trees to end, signalling that the campsite was close. I asked how far, and again Rambo said 2 hours. Piotr and I were getting frustrated with the different numbers and their absence from reality. That put us well after dark, and I expressed to Rambo how much I HATE hiking a dangerous trail in the dark. It makes me frustrated and stressed, and it only happens at the end of a very hard day when you're desperate to find a place to sleep. Moonlit walks are completely different than hiking in dense forest or steep trails (or both!) in the dark. A few minutes later an unseen owl hooted nearby (rare here), and at the next change in the trail, it levelled out somewhat into a rootless, rockless, flat-ish path just long enough for three people to sleep. I even stopped and put my pack down and prepared to unpack my camping equipment. At which point, Rambo said, no no, we can't stop here because there are people that hike during the night, usually NPA. Piotr and I looked at each other, 'yeah right'. So I asked one more time. Rambo, how long to the campsite? Only 40 minutes. Enough time to put us deep into the dark. Rambo claimed the first number was to the summit. So we don our headlamps and prepare for sundown. Ten minutes' sunlight, and five minutes' lamplight later, we arrive at a cement waiting shed with a metal roof. There's plenty of flat ground around, and we're still in the forest, so there's wood for a fire. Knowing Piotr would agree, I immediately stop and say, we're camping here. Rambo says, "I guess 40 minutes was only 15 minutes".

Tucking into a damn cozy bed

We were thrilled to know we were at the campsite. Whatever happens the next day, at least we knew we would make it over the summit and down to Barlig long before the end of the day. Rambo says he'll be back in a moment, so I let him go while I unroll my sleeping mat and bag. A few minutes later, he disappears and comes back with wood. It's not just sticks found along the trail, it's split logs that someone obviously took great pains to cut, assemble, and keep dry. I had never seen the likes of wood like that anywhere before or since. I ask Rambo, "Where the hell did that come from? Last night, you said there would be no wood at the campsite. You obviously knew there would be wood." "It's from a pile over there," he replies. "Why would you say it is several hours to the campsite when you knew it couldn't be that much from where we were?" He replies, "I always bring my guests to the top where there is a place to sleep. I ask, "You make people hike for hours into the night using flashlights?" "Yes." "Why?" "Because I know I will be warm when I sleep and have and a place to shower." "Seriously Rambo, you make people climb into the dark so you can be less prepared for a night in cooler mountain air, while they carry their sleeping bags and tents to be prepared for the cold?" "Yes", he says with that jokester smile.

"Campfire Cooking with Rambo Polygon"

Piotr and I get a fire going so we can warm up dinner, still amazed that we were going to have two hot meals that day. Mountain climbs usually involve cold leftovers or snacks for at least two days or much much longer for big climbs here or major mountains elsewhere. Rambo says he will be back, and we think nothing of it. He returns drinking from his newly full, small water bottle. "Where did you get that water?" "There is a place to fill." "Rambo, you made me carry more than 4 liters of water up that seriously steep and treacherous trail, when you KNEW there would be water at the campsite, which you also KNEW was not far ahead. Why?" I will never forget his response, which he gave through his charming prankster smile. "Because I see you are strong and like to see you carry it." "Rambo I am not any stronger than either of you. Maybe I just take pain differently than you." He laughs with that smile again. "Would you like a drink Rambo? I have all this water I need to get rid of now. You can save yours." More chuckling and he takes a long gulp from my bottle. "Rambo, you're fucked up." He laughs harder.

And... "Lessons in Elfin Living with David Cacanindin"

I explain that he will not pay the fee at the top or in Barlig. We will. Not sure if he heard us well, we get on with our preparations for the evening. Nevertheless, finally feeling on the same page, feeling that we understand each other, the three of us cook, we talk, and we laugh, and we go to sleep. Even in the last though, it was difficult to get Rambo to keep the fire out or at least away from Piotr's nylon tent so sparks wouldn't punch holes in the walls (it happens to these ultralight tents every time a campfire is nearby). He eventually moved the fire a short distance away, only to make it big again several times in the night. When I woke up to the sight of it in the night, all I could think was, "Hard to believe we're paying this asshole to bring us up the mountains so we can carry the burden for his unpreparedness." Usually, it's the other way around. Tourists often get caught unprepared or unaware. That's what was so great about traveling with Piotr was that we were both prepared to adapt to almost anything. I had helped him get those final tools of cook pot and metal spoon though, because sometimes you just can't find usable chopsticks in the mountains. My one-person pot just wasn't going to make enough food for the three of us.

Rambo had explained only after we were ready for sleep that the last jeepney leaving from our destination, Barlig, leaves around 10am. We squeezed harder ETAs out of Rambo for the summit and down and decided that we weren't going to hurry to the top and then back down. As Piotr had said earlier at sundown, we went on this climb for leisure and beauty, not for a race. Still, we awoke before sunrise and made sure to leave at first light. The approach to the summit is my favorite part of the climbs I've done here. You can clearly see your end goal above you because the low-lying forest is gone. The clouds swirl around you with moist, cool air. We even passed through this really cool dwarf bamboo that was just above our heads at the highest. Very wet and dense, it made the person in front of you look like their head was floating alone through tall grass.

How can there possibly be no cell signal?

We arrived at the summit almost exactly two hours after we left the campsite, true to Rambo's initial predictions, and the view was stunning. There is a huge cell tower at the top, operated by Globe, which has a reputation of being the rich person's cell phone company. Piotr and I both have Globe SIM cards in our phones, but even there we Piotr couldn't get a signal. The "guard station" Rambo had warned us about simply housed a pair of poor caretakers living at the top. They do collect a fee for anyone who wants to sleep at the top, but not from every passerby like the lawless bandits Rambo had originally made them out to be. We lingered for less than half an hour, admiring the view, and began the walk down to Barlig.

Stairs made from shallow, live roots and natural materials lined the path all the way down. It was obvious to Piotr and I that Globe pays for the maintenance of the trail, pays and supplies the summit guards, and maintains equipment all the way down. Electrical and phone lines from the cell tower followed the trail. We passed several men and women who were hired to carry petrol or even unrefined oil to the top, walking at an unfathomably brisk pace. We were only beginning to understand how physically strong the Igorot people are, even children. We took only one break on the way down, but the time seemed right time to just enjoy the nostalgic (for me) fragrance of pine trees and the beautiful view. We rested for a good 20-30 min reclining on the hillside throwing rocks at the metal cords holding up the telephone poles and enjoying the silence.

At the summit

As we made it down the mountain, we checked our time-telling devices and realized we probably wouldn't make it by 10am, so Piotr and I resolved to hitch hike out of Barlig when we got there. We could see the town almost all the way down. It usually takes hikers around 4 hours to come down from the mountain. We walked pretty fast, and if you subtract our long break we made it in just over 2 hours to Barlig. As we were making the last descent, the time was approaching 11am when on the other side of the valley, only 15 minutes' walk across some rice terraces, we saw the last jeepney leave town fully laden with cargo and travellers on top. As it headed up the opposite valley face, we accepted that the future held hitch hiking for us. So Rambo's hurrying was almost in vain. We felt better knowing we didn't give in to his plan to get us to the summit early so he could get back home to Batad by afternoon of the second day. We would have felt really cheated if we had paid 850 pesos each for two days' hike that ended at 9:30am on Day 2. Near the bottom of the valley, a crew of around 15 heavily sweating Filipinos were taking shifts carrying some sort of huge electrical component, an expensive-looking cylinder with spirals on four opposite corners was hanging between two sturdy bamboo. The leader said it weighed 250 kilograms. Six people were underneath the bamboo at all times and each step seemed to take a toll. Knowing and seeing the strength of these people so worn down at the very beginning of the hike, I could only wonder how they were going to get it to the summit by the end of the day. It was astounding and humbling.

Barlig, the end of our climb from the opposite side of the valley

We were all together until early afternoon. After we saw the jeep leave, we rinsed our heads and limbs in drinkable spring water coming from a tube in a wall, climbed the surprisingly difficult stairs on the other side of the valley, and ate lunch by the road. There was a restaurant there with vegan vegetables! A healthy portion with 2-3 cups' worth of rice cost only 55 pesos. In cities, one cup of cooked rice at a restaurant costs 35-50 pesos! After lunch Piotr and I walked up the road and waited for three hours until we caught a ride on a small pickup truck. It was bright yellow, no padding anywhere, and I was in the fully enclosed back seat where I was fumugated with the noxious exhaust from this destroyed vehicle. I felt pretty sick and lightheaded after the hour-long journey back up to the main road. The road was horrible. A handful of short paved stretches of road were quite a relief. People know the routine, and those who had tried walking were as thrilled as Piotr and I that a vehicle had come along. The driver stopped for everyone that looked remotely like they might need a ride. He was a one-man construction worker turned community jeepney. Rambo didn't come with us because he preferred to stay with a friend of his in Barlig and catch a ride with him a few hours later in the day.

My shins are still attached. I promise.

The Pinoy Mountaineer rated the hike we followed from Batad to the summit of Mt Amuyao to Barlig an 8 out of 9. Not many mountains here are that high of a difficulty rating. My first climb was Kanlaon Volcano, which they rated 8/9. Very few mountains get this rating, and I found only three of the many mountains here in the Philippines rated 9/9. The descriptions of climbs and how to make every one of maybe 200 treks happen are extraordinarily good. Mount Guiting-Guiting, the one I started in Sibuyan but had to abandon because of poor information and need for a third day, is one of those rated a 9/9. Mt Halcon on Mindoro is the second 9/9 rating. I learned later that my uncles climbed that mountain with a mountaineering crew of up to 20 people about ten years ago. It's particularly difficult because of the length of climb, about 4 days' worth of hiking. According to Pinoy Mountaineer, the most difficult mountain in the Philippines is Mt Mantaligajan in northern Palawan. There are no regular guides, no expected rates, no good information about this climb because no one does it. Only a handful of climbers climbed it between 2008 and 2011. "A hike to the mountain requires the sheer length of Halcon, and the sheer difficulty of Guiting-Guiting. Malaria is apparently also a common problem there. Hiking time takes about 5 days, or 4 and change. Palawan is probably my next destination when I leave Luzon in February, but I think I would have to work up to this one. Maybe it's not worth the hassle, but the description sounds spectacularly beautiful and unique.

Piotr's view from the noxious yellow pickup 

We rode in the small pickup truck all the way to Bontoc, where Piotr and I hoped to find a place to camp. Our ride dropped us at the bank so I could get some cash, and we proceeded to find vegetables for dinner first. That was the beginning of a blurry two days in Bontoc. Mt Amuyao was fantastic, and Rambo, for better and worse, was a huge part of the experience. Piotr and I look back on that climb and all we can do is end our reminiscing with rolled eyes and a simultaneous, "fucking Rambo. Rambo Polygon."