Why do we climb mountains?

"It's a piece of cake!" my friend assured me when she asked me to join the Jamboree Mountaineers' Mt. Manalmon climb. As I had successfully climbed Pico de Loro almost a year ago, I figured I could also climb Mt. Manalmon, more a hill than a mountain, in the historical Biak-na-bato National Park. Sure enough, I reached the top of Mt. Manalmon but as it turns out the climb was no piece of cake. I should have known I was in trouble when I saw the itinerary, which included monkey cable crossing, caving, and not one but two mountain summits.

Believing my friend, I thought that things would really be a "piece of cake" but as it turns out, things look a lot easier on paper than in real life. The 5:45 am assembly time at the bus station was "deceptively kind." I figured, if we can leave for a day climb after the sun rises, how difficult can it possibly be? Very difficult, as it turned out. In fact, it was so difficult that my friend kept apologizing the entire time. "I really didn't know it was going to be like this," she said, explaining that the last time they went to Mt. Manalmon, there was no monkey cable crossing nor caving, and all her memories were of a pleasant, leisurely climb up to the summit, and the breathtaking view of the lush green fields that stretched out endlessly below. It was the same view we experienced this time, only the climb was not exactly leisurely, although it was pleasant. Despite being pressed for time, our team was a happy bunch, and there was plenty of laughter even if we were out of breath from the ascent. Our team climbed the mountains after going through Bayukbok Cave where, according to our guide, the Katipuneros used to meet. Going through a cave may sound easy but it isn't, especially for city folk who are used to things being constructed with people in mind. In the cave, you have no choice but to twist and turn, contort your not-so-flexible body into positions you never knew were possible. But nature is kind, and caving is made a bit easier with naturally-formed handles and footholds. Of course, much credit also goes to your teammates who cheer you on and tell you to just jump when your legs aren't long enough to reach the ground. There's something almost sacred about pain. When you feel pain in muscles you never even knew you had, you realize your body is capable of so much. You also learn how profound it is to sit in the middle of a dark cave and listen to nothing but your thoughts. Then the sharp sound of your team leader's whistle interrupts your musings, and it's time to move again. Eventually we emerged from Bayukbok Cave, with some minor scratches and scrapes, less water, and large appetites. Realizing we were literally back where we began made me laugh. Surely, this proved that it's the journey, not the destination. Just as we had crossed the river on foot only to cross back using the monkey cable, we had gone through the cave simply for the experience. As for the monkey cable, I didn't trust my sunblock-slippery hands nor my shaky knees, and I ended up crossing the river on a raft. Not my proudest moment, but definitely something to laugh about. How was I to know that a few hours later I would be hugging a rock at the top of a mountain, with a much greater distance to fall than the river from the monkey cable? After Bayukbok Cave, our team descended to the river campsite, where the other teams were already swimming in the mossy cold water, or sprawled out in the shade. Food never tastes as good as it does when you're hungry, and lunch that day was definitely delicious. After lunch, we trekked to Mt. Gola, which is across the river from Mt. Manalmon. Climbing Mt. Gola in the 2:00 pm sun was not very pretty, and at every rest stop we asked ourselves why we were doing it. Still, there's not much sense in turning back halfway, and we plodded on until we reached the top of the mountain. Mt. Gola was dry and jagged, but the wind at the peak was cool. After just a few minutes, we went down, crossed the river, and began climbing Mt. Manalmon. By this time, my friend had decided to stay at the campsite, but as we climbed Mt. Manalmon, I realized that this was what she had referred to as a piece of cake. The trail was not too steep and had been thankfully spared from litter from irresponsible hikers. At the summit, the impossibly beautiful view and fresh, cool air made every aching step worth it. The moment was broken when our guide volunteered that this was the last thing the Makapili would see before they were thrown off the mountain. "Mahal kasi yung bala," he laughed, and we laughed nervously along with him. Relaxing as it was to sit back and enjoy the view, it was too good to be true. Our team leader announced that it was time for the challenge, but would not tell us what the challenge was until we agreed to it. Were we to jump off the mountain, I wondered. In the meantime, the whole team had agreed to the yet undisclosed challenge, and my silence was taken for acceptance. It turned out that the challenge was to climb a large, jutting rock, which required that we went barefoot. Being someone who cannot even manage trendy indoor wall-climbing, the challenge seemed like a joke. Struck speechless with fear, I found myself climbing the rock. "Kiss the wall!" my teammates instructed me, but I was too busy wrapping my fingers and toes around anything I could grasp. Somehow I found myself at the top, but I could hardly enjoy the wind, and seeing the tiny cows below reminded me just how high up we were. All I could think about was how I would get back down. A few hours later, we were back at the jump-off point, freshly bathed and happily munching on snacks, which went perfectly with our ice-cold drinks. The trip back to Manila was delayed because it took one team longer than expected to return from caving. We began to worry, but they arrived soon enough, happy despite the setback. By then, it was dark and the only light came from a gas lamp, and the millions of stars impossible to see in the city. It was only after the climb that I learned what we did was part of the Alliance of Filipino Mountaineers' "CliMBapalooza! 2011: Celebrating Love in High Altitude" - a nationwide Valentine climb consisting of more than 50 simultaneous climbs. Knowing we weren't the only ones trying to get closer to the sky was a comforting thought. "Why do you like to climb mountains?" I was asked a few days later. My body still aching, I realized I didn't have a ready answer. It's the teammates - putting your life in the hands of strangers. It's the scenery - realizing how beautiful the world already is, the poetry of life without buildings. It's also the pain - the unparalleled accomplishment of doing something you didn't think you could. It's everything. – VVP, GMA News