Wings of Night

El Nido is an hour flight and 9 hours by land. Detached, seemingly unspoiled. Clear blue waters and creamy white beaches. All the islands verdant and fresh. The inclement weather couldn't spoil their majesty. And I couldn't have found a better companion to that serene place.

I've always wanted to ride a horse.

Riding a horse is one of the quintessential elements of an adventure. At least that was how it seemed to me when I was a kid, growing among stacks of books about knights and lords, quests and battles, medieval European cities and the old American way of life. And so on a whim I went to ranch near Dau, Pampanga and rode a horse for the first time.

A slow trot was all I dared but still I was thrilled. The spotted white gelding was gentle and well trained. I wonder when I will ride again. Perhaps on another whim.

It's been a while. It felt good to climb down the steep slide of sedimentary rock and boulders, my friends, before and behind me. The air was cool though it was almost noon. Perfect for a long walk. Our guide led us nimbly through a rough path across many streams. Here and there they were awash in either sulphur or iron oxide, a medley of yellow and red. We were hemmed in by arms of the mountain on either side. Some were sheer walls of rock, others green with vegetation. We've lost communication with the outside world since the hour long 4x4 jeep ride into the desolate plains cut off all our mobile phones. The same path will became impassable when the rains come.

It felt good to be on another adventure. Good to walk amidst nature's domain and breathe fresh air. Good to walk on a path that challenged your balance and endurance and demanded your attention. Good to feel a sheen of sweat from healthy excercise.

It took us a two hour hike to get to the lip of the crater. The view was spectacular. I've never seen such emerald green waters. The crater lake is much larger than I imagined. I dared not swim lest the freezing waters cramp my tired legs. We contented ourselves to sitting on banks that plunged at 45 degree angles into the depths.

It was getting late before long and another two hour hike saw us back to the jump off point. A bumpy 30 minute ride brought us to the Springs. There were three pools: hot, hotter and hottest. We wallowed in the first and could only look in wonder at the steaming 3rd. I could have sat there all night but we had to return.

It was dark when the 4x4 took us on the hour long ride to the Spa town where we started that morning. We bumped along holding on for dear life while white ash-dust billowed all round us again. There were no real roads. Only the winding tracks of 4x4s crisscrossing the plains of sand and rock between the mountains. I stared hard at the passing landscape and knew I may never go back there again.

In the wake of another storm my friends and I started on the long planned trip to Subic. We were going to ride a ferry to Orion Pier in Bataan, Grab a bus to the Crown Peak Hotel where we had free accomodations, check out the JEST Jungle Survival Training camp and hit a few beaches. But things don't always go as planned...

The ferry was no longer operating. We took a bus to Olongapo instead. Had to get another one to take us to the city proper. Turns out it would take us more transfers to get to the hotel. Along the way it started to rain and when we got to the Victory Liner Station at the city, the thought of overnight at Subic lost its luster. We had plenty of food, enough money in our pockets and a yearning for adventure. A few minutes later we found ourselves on the bus to San Antonio, Zambales, once again on the road to Pundaquit and the Island of Capones.

Last I was here with this group, there were a lot more of us. Twelve to be exact. The four I have with me this time seem to be the most daring of the lot when it comes to nature trekking. It was easy finding accomodations as it was no longer peak season. The first order of business once we settled down was food. We brought plenty of cold cuts, canned meat, bread and greens to make ourselves gourmet sandwiches which are going to be our staple for the next 24 hours or so.

Then, we took a swim. The sea was a rougher than it was last summer. There were plenty of surfers taking advantage of it. We let ourselves be carried by the rolling waves until their beating and the strong undertow tired us out. We were swimming near where the Pundaquit river joined the sea so the water wasn't very salty.

Drinks and music served for desert as the cottage had a videoke machine. So true that some alcohol can help loosen vocal chords. Or is it just that we no longer cared too much about how we sang? Maybe it was both.

Rest and sleep. And snores and blanket pulling. Still it was restful and plenty.

We had broke our fast on egg, corned beef, and sausage sandwiches. Lathered with plenty of mayo or liver spread . And don't forget the onions, tomatoes, cheese and lettuce. Sometimes all of them together. Each to his own.

We had to cross to the beach on the other side of the river to get to our boat. We crossed where the river was thigh deep. Not surprising that the current was very strong there. Enough to carry one away if not careful.

The sea was not calm still though the storm has gone. The weather was perfect though; bright and cloudy with a gentle breeze. The beach at this time of year was on the other side of the island from where we stayed last summer. The sky cleared towards noon. At least this side had lush vegetation and plenty of shade. We had Capones Island to ourselves. We swam, played in the water, the sand and on the stream flowing from the cliffs then down to the sea, explored the length of the beach, sunned ourselves, troubled some hermit crabs, took lots of pictures, collected plenty of sea shells and contemplated serenity while lying on the sand in the shade of the trees. It was bliss.

Our last stop was the falls. I knew the trail from when I was here last. We had it to ourselves, too. It wasn't very high but the broken in stages and steps. Fed by the rains the falls' waters were fast flowing. The fresh water pools were as clear as ever. A lot of great photo-ops. We climbed the rocks and boulders on our bare feet for better traction. They were slippery at points and couldn't be trusted. We were surprised to see how effortless we seemed to be clinging to them in the pictures we took.

The waves have sealed the river's mouth with sand making the river was eat away at its banks and the beach in its effort to meet the sea. Left alone it would collapse more of the beach and take with it the nearest huts. So the village folk dug a trench to let the water out in the middle of the dammed river mouth. We swam a little in the calmer parts of the river before crossing in the now chest deep waters to get back to our lodgings.

This trip is a lot better than the one we had last summer. We didn't have to trouble with cooking. We got to sleep better. We were able to do a lot more exploring. The sea was more exciting. We had a lot of the scenic spots to ourselves; as if we had a private island and falls. We were better prepared in a way. And every one was game and up to the challenges of communing with nature. All in all very invigorating.

Photos at: http://www.kodakgallery.com/I.jsp?c=ugor43r.9vs6o7av&x=0&y=uxslzh&localeid=en_US

There are just so many places to go. So much to see. So much beauty just waiting around some nook or cranny. Or mountain or sea for that matter. Nothing to do but find the time and a glorious meeting of minds and opportunity.

This time, undaunted by the storm we went to Zambales yet again. A quaint little town called Pundaquit became our jump point. From there a boat took us to the fabled island of Capones. Not to its pristine beaches of finely crushed white corals and shells this time but way down the other end to seek the ancient Spanish lighthouse. You wouldn’t believe the crystal clear waters that greeted us at the foot of a climb that constitutes the beginning of the fastest trail.

Half way up we found dozens of paved steps. Across a rolling savanna and through a thick grove of trees we came upon it. The hike was no more than half an hour, but trust Kim to ensure plenty of rest stops for taking pictures.

From there a half hour boat ride took us to Anawangin cove. Its beauty was muted by the impending storm but fascinating none the less. Instead of palms we found pine trees shading the white beach. Beneath their bows we set up camp. The sun set behind the right arm of the mountains hemming the cove. The swimming was better at the island as the sea floor in the cove was rocky.

It was refreshing to be somewhere unpolluted by none of man’s machines. The only signs of civilization were an old manual water pump, the caretaker’s huts and the tents set up by transients such as us. That night the first of the rains poured bringing with it the wind; heavy drops that angered the farther sea and threatened to blow our tents away. When it stopped as abruptly as it came we explored the beach some more in the darkness. There were at least 3 more camping parties scattered on the beach. No, not at all crowded.

We planned to explore the grove in the morn but our boatman came earlier than planned. The brunt of the storm was arriving faster than expected and we had to leave while it was still safe for boats to cross the sea. We reluctantly broke camp and vowed to come back in better conditions. The ride back was an exhilarating roller coaster ride on violently tossing waters. It was the first time I’ve seen 4-5 foot waves up close but I wouldn't have forgone that for anything.

A slight drizzle started once back at the Pundaquit beach but not enough to daunt us from completing our last stop, Pundaquit falls. We forded the mouth of the Pundaquit River, which was at that time almost choked by sand, on foot. Then, a short walk inland to the base of the mountains. Took us no more than a 15 minutes in all. It was a scenic step falls with plenty of pools and boulders. A pity there were so many people at that time.

Back at the resort we realized we were stranded. The then raging storm flooded the city and made the twisting cliff side roads treacherous.

It was quite an experience. We learned the next morning that we got out of the cove just in time. Some were stranded there and some, who foolishly attempted to hike back across the mountains, lost 3 of their comrades to the raging river. Their torn bodies were found the next day on the beach. It was all the more humbling because though I knew at the back of my mind that danger lurked, in my heart I felt safe even amidst the worst waves. Nature in all her majesty can also be treacherous. In all our forays into what remains of her realm, she remains untamed and it pays to know when to jump and when to stay put. We were foolhardy ourselves. Yet, just enough.

More Photos:
http://www.kodakgallery.com/I.jsp?c=ugor43r.9vs6o7av&x=0&y=uxslzh&localeid=en_US
http://www.slide.com/r/JD8vxKV15T-P_dv3q4OPjOdjgE-cM-fE?previous_view=lt_embedded_url