There are at least two things I expected from the second training climb: first, it’s going to be wet, second, there’s going to be an awful lot of pain. Boy, it did not disappoint.
In some of their stories, AMCI members mentioned emergency camps, limatik, teka-teka and all other things that make trekking more difficult than love (hugot #1). These are the things that would make you ask the very same questions you ponder on every Monday during status meetings: why am I doing what I’m doing, are we done yet, what is happening, watdahelpapajeezus, what is putang ina?
Anyway, Mt. Mingan stands at approximately 1,900 MASL, and is located in the province of Aurora—five hours away, depending on your driver’s brand of steroids. A quick desktop research would tell you that this mountain is not yet rated and definitely not frequented by hikers. True. The trail says it all.
The adventure begins at 45 MASL, Brgy. Davil-Davilan–from 85 up until about 300 MASL, it was a steady/slippery river trek + bouldering (that is potentially life threatening to clumsy people) with a few roped segments. Past the falls, where we had lunch, and you have a goddamn assault up to the campsite at Station 5, 1190 MASL.
In some parts of the trail, we found nice little patches that actually offered a view—but they were few and far between.
The assault *should* be relatively simple and straightforward in the absence of heavy rains. Except for me–I climbed with a 13-kg pack after volunteering to carry the tent and deliberately packing some extra alcohol + one tabo of trail food. Guess what, there are things worth suffering / dying for, like cheap merlot.
The tabo had about two packs of spicy mixed nuts, two packs of M&Ms peanuts, one small pack of Oreos, Jelly Ace 18’s, one Snickers bar (thank you again, Lira)—all of which were fucking gone before dinner. I walked and ate like it was tag-gutom and it was my last chance in life. In a mountain like Mingan, it doesn’t matter if you’re chewing M&Ms or fucking screwdrivers from Ace Hardware. Gotta keep your mouth busy. Lel.
By around 3:30 PM we were already in camp, safe from a classic TC2 horror story. But as it turns out, day one ain’t got nothing on day two. Because, yeah, day 2 had us going for another hour up to the summit of Mt. Cinco (1,430 MASL). The view was so stunning I almost cried tears of frustration and regret.
Anyway, we just enjoyed the trail because if a storm was about to hit us, then might as well give it the finger.
It was then that I made the most glaring mistakes, such as, but not limited to, not wearing leggings and deciding to bust my knees keeping up with AGL Sharon all the way down. I swear, when the group ahead gave us permission to OT and the trail cleared up, she and James just ran off like some motherfucker was chasing them with a machete. I had to follow, scamper while yelling putangina! putangina! putangina nyo po please!!
Hoho! Lunch happened at 403 MASL, Bukohan area, about an hour and a half ahead of the itinerary. Ganyan sila eh, atat mag-beach! From there, it was a chill walk down to the last river crossing and back to Davil-davilan.
Looking back, I think the most fun climbs are also the most difficult ones. Yes, I looked back.
I zoomed in.
And found gems.
Let me conclude this post with an inspirational cliche: you have to look through the rain to see the damn rainbow. Look here:
Now look again.
Good night, fuckers! ❤