Mt. Kanlaon Summit Trek - Day 1

Did I say climbing Mt. Kanlaon should be easier than Mt. Kinabalu or Mt. Rinjani because it isn't as high?  Yes I did. And I was wrong.  Despite being nearly 5,500 ft lower than Mt. Kinabalu,  Mt. Kanlaon presents its own unique challenges and conditions that still make it a tough climb.

There are principally two reasons for this: firstly, you have to carry all your own water for drinking and cooking.  For the time involved this a not an insignificant amount and therefore it's a considerable weight to lug up a mountain. On Kinabalu there is a lodge just below the summit where you can rest overnight before making the ascent to the peak, and it is a place where you can sleep, eat, drink and even buy souvenirs.  It's kept supplied by locals who are paid by the kilo to lug everything up the mountain to keep the place well stocked for soft westerners like myself.  As you climb up you're frequently overtaken by locals with tree-trunk thick legs carrying crates of water, packs of food or other supplies, including materials for building repairs and maintenance.  On one occasion I saw a guy carrying a refrigerator strapped to his back and he had the thickest legs I've ever seen.  As a consequence, when climbing Mt. Kinabalu all you have to carry is a camera, raincoat and a Mars Bar.  It was the same for climbing Rinjani: whilst there was no lodge, a team of porters was employed to carry all your water, food, camping equipment and even the portable chemical toilet up, down and around the mountain.  And they do it wearing flip-flops.

For Mt. Kanlaon I was told by the organiser of the trek that it was not possible to find local porters who were willing to carry kit or equipment for financial remuneration.  This either says a great deal about how much the organiser was willing to pay and/or something about Filipino characteristics.

The second key factor was the route, which on Kanlaon is largely through thickly wooded areas, so for a largish person (such as myself), carrying a bulky rucksack, it makes for tough going as you are frequently having to climb over or crawl under fallen branches and trees.  In the really dense forest you are constantly becoming snagged and tangled on trees, branches, vines and brambles.  It really is energy sapping and soul destroying.

We left Iloilo on the 19th March to travel to Kanlaon City on the south-western side of Mt. Kanlaon.  The day started off well with bright clear weather and no cancellations or delays to the ferry from Dumangus to Bacolod.  Despite sitting in the shade on the top deck of the ferry, I still managed to get my face, arms and legs rather sunburnt, probably from reflected sunlight off of the decks and sea.

Hiding from the Sun

So clear was the weather that right from leaving Dumangas we could see the the outline of Mt. Kanlaon nearly 40 miles in the distance.

Kanlaon from the Ferry

On arriving at Bacolod we had lunch and then headed for Kanlaon City.  We made the most of the clear weather by stopping frequently to photograph the scenery.  We arrived at the Midway Traveler's Inn at around 5:00pm where my driver dropped me off and then went to visit his folks in Dumaguete.  I had arrived ahead of the others who were on the tour and who were travelling from Cebu, so I checked in (very informal) and was shown my room.  It was very basic but reasonably clean, despite the hoards of ants forming moving black lines over the bathroom walls.  There was however, hot water in the shower, complete with the usual exposed electrical wiring joined with electrical tape. The room also had an aircon, albeit a rather asthmatic, wheezing air-con.  I dropped my rucksack off and unpacked it to review again what I would and wouldn't be carrying with me up the mountain.  There really didn't seem much scope for leaving anything behind, except my rather bulky and heavy medium format camera that I really, really wanted to use.  I left everything unpacked and decided to give it more thought and went and sat outside and waited for the others to arrive. 

As I sat on the road side I watched the sun setting and the world go by, which seemed to be almost exclusively noisy scooters whizzing past with the riders and passengers yelling "Hey Joe!"

Sun Setting Behind Mt. Kanlaon

The others arrived before sundown.  I'd expected them to turn up in a mini bus emblazoned with PLANET ACTION! painted down the side with some fancy artwork depicting all manner of activities on offer: white water rafting, para-sailing, mountain climbing, river climbing, scuba diving.  But no, they arrived crammed into a local mini bus with their bags tied with string to the roof and the rear tyres almost touching the wheel arches. Not a good sign, I thought.

The occupants of the bus spilled out onto the roadside and we informally introduced ourselves.   The group consisted of a varied mix of nationalities:

• English - me of course; 
• German - the organiser who had lived in the Philippines for the past 20 years (again, not a good sign).
• Irish - an expat since 1996 who had worked as a deck hand on sailing charters and was now working as a dive instructor.  Referred to as the Leprechaun.  
• Finnish - a Rutger Hauer lookalike barman who split his time working between Sweden (yes, Sweden, not Finland) and the Philippines.  Sounded a bit suspect to me.
• Polish - working in London (where else?!) as an accountant, and her partner;
• Nepalese - working for KFC (not in the "do you want fries to go with that" capacity but more the executive side of KFC).
• Filipino - Super Mario was the coolest guy there and our guide.  He know how to cook, camp and trek.  If we were in a survival situation, Mario was going to be my best friend!

All younger than me and all clearly much fitter too - although that's not difficult.

After the bags were dropped off we all walked into town.  There was a fiesta at the time so the place was buzzing with activity.  We stopped for a local coffee that looked, and tasted, like tar and shopped for mangoes before heading back to the Midway for dinner.

Dinner was dominated by two Long Tailed Macaque monkeys in a cage in the restaurant.  Indignant at not being invited to the table the more dominant one of the two rattled the cage, shook the branch inside and bashed away at the building's aluminium eaves that made a deafening noise.  Dinner was of a typical Philippine fare.  Fried fish, chicken, vegetables and incinerated pork chops.  No real food frights here.

After dinner it was off to bed for an early night.  Well at least I was off to bed.  Because of the fiesta the guest house was fully booked (apart from the room I'd blagged) and so the rest of the group had to sleep in the tents on the floor of the restaurant.  Again, not a good sign regarding pre-planning and organisation, I thought.  I did for a moment consider offering up my relatively comfy room to the only female in the group but rather unchivalrously I convinced myself that being the oldest in the group, my need was greater.