Trek to the top of Mt. Pulag

Editor’s note: In the early hours of February 17, a group of 90 climbers headed up to the summit of Mount Pulag, Luzon’s highest peak at over 9,700 feet above sea level straddling the provinces of Nueva Vizcaya, Benguet, and Ifugao. Its watershed serves four dams: Binga, Magat, San Roque and Ambuklao.

What made this group special was that it was headed by Oscar Lopez, chairman of the Lopez Group, and included four of his children, assorted executives of the various companies in the Lopez Group, as well as Mount Everest climbers Leo Oracion and Pastor Emata, and Noelle Wenceslao and Carina Dayondon who aim to be the first Filipinas and Southeast Asians to traverse Mount Everest (climb up one face and go down the other).

For Lopez, 76, this was a personal triumph: "It looks daunting and in my case, mission impossible when my doctor advised me against climbing it. I had wanted to climb Mount Pulag, the highest peak in Luzon but I was told that the air was so thin...my aging heart would be too stressed by the climb. As a nature lover and fitness advocate, this did not sit well with me and I challenged myself to prove to my doctor that I was in perfect shape to try for Pulag. It didn’t happen overnight. Like all things worthwhile, I had to work at it. I walked daily, ate moderately, climbed six flights of steps to my office every morning, and in the summer of 2006, went to Mount Santo Tomas in Batangas, which is 7,500 feet high. After that feat, my doctor yielded..."

Taking off from Baguio, the group proceeded to the DENR station in Ambangeg for a mandatory briefing before heading for the Ranger Station in Babadak, where they split up into nine groups for the four-hour trek up to Camp 2, where they spent the night. Following is the account of Benjamin Liboro, president of First Balfor Inc., who joined the lead group behind Lopez for the pre-dawn ascent to the summit. The climb is the centerpiece of the Lopez Lifelong Wellness Program.

We emerged from our tents one by one, ready for the attack on the summit, guarding our private anxieties on whether we would be up to the task. I joined the line behind Mr. Lopez, thinking that the pace that would be set for him by the experienced climbers would likely suit me as well. As we started off, many were still emerging from their tents and getting their groups organized. 

After about half an hour of climbing, we had our first rest. Looking back to the campsite, I saw a winding string of white and yellow lights from the trekking lights that we all wore on our heads, and recalled the scene from "The Lost Horizon" when the stragglers from the crashed plane first entered Shangri-La and saw the procession of lights below them. This seemed very much like Shangri-La. 

Hiking in the pre-dawn, you cannot see very much of Mt. Pulag. You focus your beam ahead and below so that you see where the person ahead is stepping and you try to step where he has stepped. The trail is wide and flat in some areas, but as you gain altitude and begin to traverse the sides of the mountain on the way to the summit, the trail narrows to as little as a foot wide in places. 

Neither is it smooth. Once in a while, you look to the side and train your beam down the slope. It is steep, grassy, bereft of handholds, and stretches down to a dark, seemingly bottomless abyss. It occurs to you that if you slip and fall, nothing will stop you till you hit bottom hundreds of feet below. 

An experienced climber somewhere further back in the line advises that in the event you slip, throw yourself against the mountain and try to obtain a foot- or hand-hold to arrest your fall. It doesn’t sound comforting or assuring, so you focus your beam ahead, and try to forget the steep slope beside you. 

As we trekked, faster groups began to pass us and forge ahead. We would go for 20 minutes, rest for five. The groups that had gone ahead began to seem farther and farther ahead, and higher and higher above. Then, against the graying skies of early dawn, we saw the outline of the summit and lights about halfway there. It seemed very distant and steep.   

We traversed one last slope, crossed a short flat plateau, and began the final climb. It was steep and we slowed our pace, zig-zagging instead of going straight up. We fell silent, each with his own thoughts, concentrating on breathing properly and on taking one rising step at a time.  I was a bit breathless but not fatigued, and my calf muscles had begun to tighten up. In vacant moments, I thought of how great a foot massage would be when we got back down to Baguio.   

Then we heard cries of triumph from far above! We saw flashguns going off: The lead climbers had reached the summit. Those sounds got us re-energized and climbed with new vigor. It took ten, maybe as long as 20 minutes, then the line came to a stop. I thought it was another pause for rest, then, it occurred to me that we were about to reach the summit of Mt. Pulag and the line had slowed and stopped to allow for the taking of pictures as Mr. Lopez stepped onto the summit. The line move again amid a cacophony of noise and flashes, and we too were on the summit. 

I didn’t feel the inclination to jump for joy or shout in triumph. What I felt was a deep sense of satisfaction, knowing I had met the challenge, yet also feeling that it had not been so much an arduous challenge than a fun thing to experience. I looked around and many of the younger climbers were hamming it up in front of the cameras and whooping in exhaltation. I guess for those of us in our 50s and pushing 60, we can no longer take it for granted that things like this are well within our physical capabilities, as we probably did when we were younger. Therefore, this achievement fills us with deep and private satisfaction, for now it is ourselves that we challenge, not the mountain. I looked over at Mr. Lopez to see his reaction at having reached his goal of so many years, and I see the same quiet look of satisfaction. 

The Pulag summit itself is about five meters square, but so gentle are the slopes towards the north and south that one gets the impression of a summit the size of a football field. There were other groups there aside from the 90 or so in our party, groups that had also made the pre-dawn climb. 

The next hour was spent taking many photographs and waiting for dawn. Having witnessed a spectacular sunset the day before from Camp 2, sunrise at the summit was even more spectacular. It was sunset in reverse, but this time from the very top of the mountain which gave you a view of 360 degrees. 

First, we all faced east. A faint slash of red in the distant horizon first appeared, giving slight definition to the many mountain peaks surrounding us that had been invisible in the dark.  As the slash grew wider, deeper and redder, the sea of clouds was once more revealed to us. To the left, due south, the sight reminded me of looking up the California coast at Big Sur, just south of the Monterrey Peninsula, with mountains and trees reaching down to the coves and the sea.  Except here, it was a sea of clouds and not the ocean. 

Then with every passing minute of the emergence of a new day, the magnificence of sunrise was revealed, the reds and pinks and oranges dominating the greens and grays and blues, till the sun itself emerged on the horizon, blinding us. I glanced behind, to the west, and saw the tops of the mountains behind us glowing in gold. Little by little, the grassy slopes leading to our summit became more fully defined, and the lines of trails, the same trails we had taken to the summit, began to emerge.   

We were extremely fortunate to have caught Mt. Pulag at her most demonstrative, which is not always the case, according to park superintendent Emerita Albas, who we called Pasu. Often, it is raining and one can see very little from the summit, in addition to making the ascent difficult and treacherous. Sometimes, the weather is good, but there are no clouds, so that one glimpses a different kind of beauty from the summit, of peaks and valleys and lowlands all the way to the South China Sea. But the sea of clouds and colors is the most beautiful view and we are fortunate to be granted that view by the mountain, over and above the perfect climbing conditions we encountered.   

By six-thirty, we were in full daylight and we began to get ready for the descent to Camp 2. The way back to camp was beautiful in its own right. We had not seen this on the way up, because we had climbed in the dark. Now, the full route to the summit was in full view.

The grassy slopes of Mt. Pulag are inhabited by several types of mountain grass, and even one that looks like miniature bamboo. Looking down to the treeline and the forest underneath, we also notice that the canopy is not painted in green alone, but has reds, oranges and other colors in it. Every so many minutes during the next two hours, we looked back and marveled at the distance we have trekked, as the summit grew smaller and smaller in the distance. We had trekked 3.5 kilometers from Camp 2 to the summit, and again 3.5 kilometers back.   

Back at Camp 2, we had breakfast, then started packing up and breaking camp to get ready for the descent back to the ranger station.  Once again, our faithful porters were there to carry the heavy bags down.  As expected, the trek back to ranger station was largely uneventful.  After all, we had come this way before, and we had been to the summit! 

We were back in Baguio by mid-afternoon, and later that evening, we had a thanksgiving mass and dinner at Mr. Lopez’s house. What did we talk about over dinner?  The next mountain, of course!  Mt. Apo in September perhaps, and Mt. Kanlaon too. Then maybe Mt. Kinabalu in Malaysia next year? 

As  we have learned from the shared experience we call Mount Pulag, it starts with somebody’s dream and his determination not to be denied that dream. Incidentally, the records maintained by the Park Superintendent indicate that the oldest successful climber of Mt. Pulag before Mr. Lopez was 65 years old. Oscar Lopez, at 76, is now the oldest conqueror of this mountain—his mountain.