Close Calls

(another retro-post from 2008)

Tragedy makes for a good screenplay; unless the tragedy is yours, then it sucks.

When disaster hits, it sometimes comes from the most unlikely places. The recent unfortunate incident in Pundaquit reminded me of some close calls I've had in "fairly simple/easy" destinations that I (we) underestimated.

(2004) Famy, Laguna - We planned nothing out of the ordinary four years ago during our trip to this very popular camping site. The hike was simple and straightforward, the abseil down Buruwisan Falls was exhilarating, but controlled- everything was going well.

There was still plenty of daylight left so we decided to check the falls further downstream then follow the circuit trail back to the campsite. We lost track of time, and thus overstayed our welcome. By the time we headed back to camp, it was getting dark and the trail wasn't visible. The skills we learned during my UPM training in the previous months were tested. Having no luck locating the trail in the dark, we decided to find a clearing and build a temporary shelter and campfire instead.

A few fiascos later, we were warm and secure, although not as comfortable as we would have been had we returned to our camp earlier. Daybreak couldn’t have come sooner. At first light we headed back, and were quite surprised on how easy we found the trail. After that experience, we just drowned our misery with ice-cold beer on our way back to Manila.

While we handled the situation relatively well, it could have become worse, like if it had rained or if suddenly lions burst into our makeshift camp. From then on I promised myself I would never subject myself to a similar situation. Which brings us to...

(2007) Anawangin, Zambales - The very place where two people lost their lives this weekend. Another straighforward trip to celebrate a birthday. But I had the notion of checking out a possible hiking route going to Anawangin solo, while the rest of the group boarded a boat and traveled in style.

It was already 3 in the afternoon when I started (I calculated that it will take me about 4-5 hours to complete the hike). I packed two liters of water, packets of peanuts (peanuts??? I must be nuts!), and other emergency supplies and printed a satellite photo from Google Earth with my planned route. It seemed I was prepared enough for anything. Anything but the crazy-ass heat!

Halfway up Mt. Pundaquit, I decided to change course because it was unlikely that I will reach a critical junction before nightfall, which would spell danger for me. I chose instead to take the coastal route through an adjacent cove and up a hill in between this cove and Anawangin. The heat was unbearable that by the time I reached the foot of that hill, I was out of water. The sun was unforgiving, punishing me with its rays all throughout. I found a stream, but passed it off since I was not sure if it was clean.

Mt. Pundaquit

With little daylight left, I had to push on. My "map" was reliable enough, but it did not show the contours of the terrain, which led me to some tricky and dangerous inclines. And since I was terribly thirsty, every step upward became a chore.

At nightfall, the apex I was aiming for was still far away. At this point all I could think of was how hungry and thirsty I am. I had the "brilliant" idea of eating the salted peanuts for energy, which made my predicament worse. Out of desperation, I resorted to sucking the sweat from my shirt. That was one of the lowest point in my life; and I've had many.

It entered my mind to just stop, sit, and wait for daylight to come. It might be easier to hike down if I can see where I was going. That notion was quickly thwarted when I realized that staying would be foolish and that I should continue going down at any cost, probably short of killing myself. Pride got the better of me then, thinking how embarrassing it would have been if I passed away up on a hill in Pundaquit, where endless summer is a possibility and not the eventuality of death.  

I continued walking and reached the apex-a burst of energy surged within me when suddenly I saw the pinpoints of light of the campsite. There they all were, partying and drinking copious amounts of alcohol while poor little me was pining for just a few sips of water. I had to get down.

So I trudged on pathetically, down a steep, “unconventional path" until I reached sea level and headed to the shore. I was still a cove away from Anawangin, but at least I know the campsite was within reach. I stupidly sipped sea water to quench my thirst (yes, it was dumb) before making my way through the beach, crossing a rocky divider, and finally reaching the safety of our campsite.

The first thing I asked for was something to drink: I finished almost a liter of coke in one gulp while getting an earful from the people around me. I deserved it. I made the perfect recipe for a disaster. Fortunately, I'm not that good of a cook.

Several realizations came my way that night up on the hill. The following day I scanned the hillside to check where I've been, all the while accepting my stupidity. I then proceeded to get wasted, and lost 4 hours of consciousness while worshiping a throne of feces (but that's another story).

Close calls make you stronger and wiser. But you can only get so close to the great beyond without risking going through the barrier between here and the afterlife. 

Luck will take you a long way, until it runs out. Then you have to depend on yourself to survive.

-- June 2008