Calamba to Infanta via Jala-jala 03/21-22/2013

Solo Bicycling Expedition: Infantacidal Part I

Pedaling solo from Calamba, Laguna to and fro Infanta, Quezon was one of my greatest overnight bicycling adventures.

The night before the long distance biking, I scoured the internet for maps to locate the shortest route connecting Laguna and Rizal via Muntinlupa. On travel, however, the tricycle drivers and locals were proven to be more traveler-friendly in giving directions than the maps on the internet.

On the morning of the day of reckoning, I was hesitant to leave house not wanting to miss my two kids for a day or two. But things had to be done the way they were planned. A few days before, the dean approved of my leave intended for securing permit from the National Commission on Indigenous Peoples (NCIP) in Infanta. The permit was to be used for a data-gathering activity in General Nakar. Visiting my cousins in Infanta was also a reason behind the travel. After taking late breakfast with my kids, I kissed them goodbye and then started pedaling northeastward.

The solo expedition would be my first bicycling tour to pass through Metro Manila and Rizal. It would also be my farthest as I was writing this article.

I made turns and u-turns and asked for directions in San Pedro and Tunasan to find the lakeshore road of Muntinlupa. It was quite relieving to find the road which was known locally as Baybay. The road led me to a highway called C-6 in Taguig that immediately provided the sudden change in landscape from the cramped and congested cityscape to the wide lakeshore open fields under blue sky. On C-6, one could have the panoramic view of Laguna Lake and the mountains of Rizal.

I ate lunch at a carinderia along the highway. Most of the eatery’s patrons were motorcycle and dump truck drivers. With dump trucks going to and fro the shoreline, I thought of whether a reclamation or a dredging project was going on that lakeshore part of the Metro.

Despite the heat of the fire prevention month, biking on C-6 was refreshing and invigorating. The breeze and open spaces gave me a feeling of freedom and bliss. Passing through the bridge over Pasig River made me recall the story in El Filibusterismo concerning the fluvial journey of Bapor Tabo from Manila to Laguna Lake. Aside from the panorama of waters and mountains, one could also see on the highway the beautiful and opulent skyscrapers of Metro Manila. Ironically, the mega city skyline with its magnificent man-made structures loomed over impoverished shanties and slums making me reflect again on the contradictions of Philippine urban development. As the Manggahan Floodway came into view, I knew that I was about to enter the province of Rizal.

Biking through the towns of Rizal made me reminisce my childhood when my family would travel to Tanay. My Dad worked for quite some time in upland Tanay. We also had our cousins, uncles and aunts to visit there. The times when some of my students collected data for their theses in the uplands were still clearly embedded in memory.

I had to stop in front of the Siena Sisters convent in Binangonan to take afternoon rest and merienda. After replenishing the body and refilling the plastic drinking bottle, Bisikletang Tagalog was back on track to traverse the long uphill road to Cardona.

When asking for directions in Rizal, I only mentioned Cardona and Tanay not Infanta to avoid further discussions concerning how far the travel would really take me.

Pedaling through Rizal was easy except when moving uphill in Binangonan and Pililla.  Instead of using the highway, I made the wrong turn and passed through the town centers of Baras and Tanay. Pleasant rice fields stretched almost all throughout the lakeshore towns.

My worn-out body was screaming pain before finding rest near the boundary of Pillilia and Jala-jala.

The best part of the entire adventure was when Jala-jala revealed its unexpected beauty. My idea of a lakeshore area was mainly the shoreline situations of industrialized and congested first and second district of Laguna. 

Though I had seen the beauty of the Lake from the fourth district of Laguna, I found the Lake to be most beautiful on Jala-jala side. The panorama of contrasting afternoon light and shade, the greenery, the flowers, the herons, the fields and the glittering waters were overwhelming. I could not forget how the setting sun with all its golden rays seemed to turn everything to gold. As what was claimed by the gateway arch of Jala-jala, the municipality was truly the paradise of the province of Rizal! I felt proud and privileged for seeing the endearing charm of the town.

At nightfall, with my weak bike light, I had to be in some sort of a night vision mode to traverse the barangays of west Pakil and Pangil. Yes, I was again within the political jurisdiction of Laguna but still in Jala-jala peninsula. I could not remember if the moon shone that night but with the hills and trees casting their shadows on the road, it seemed that the border areas of Rizal and Laguna were in total darkness. Trekking the night was a trick that I seemed to have mastered due to my overnight bicycling and hiking activities.

I dropped by the home of a barangay health worker in Mabato-Asupre, Pangil. I had met the BHW three years earlier during a community immersion with some nursing students. She was out of town when I dropped by. I would have asked her hospitable family to let me spend the night with them but was a bit shy that time. I just asked them for two glasses of water to quench my thirst and replace lost body fluids. Convinced that I would be taking a good night rest inside the chapel of the barangay, my friend’s mother gave me her blessings and bid farewell. I passed by the chapel and proceeded onward.

Upon reaching the edge of west Pangil, I was surprised to find an open carinderia in the midst of darkness and isolation. The eatery was manned by an old lady and a young boy. I learned their names: Nanay Alice and Ace. I couldn't exactly remember if I ordered sautéed mongo beans or dinuguan or both but the sure thing was that the meal was delicious and heavy. More energy was needed to negotiate the road that would later snake through the Sierra Madre mountains.

After dinner, I went through another long dark gap before finding some folks to ask for directions, made turns and u-turns, and then reached the highway of Mabitac. I was again in the middle of isolation when I turned toward Famy.

When a silhouette in human form moved opposite my direction, I thought my sixth sense was finally working. Since childhood, I had been interested in the paranormal and had investigated facts behind some strange incidents. Seeing for the first time a concrete manifestation of the paranormal could have been a very significant event in my life.  Shorter distance revealed that the creature had long disheveled hair and half-naked robust body. Getting nearer was a hair-raising experience. Upon close encounter, however, I noticed that the “kapre” was wearing short denim pants instead of loincloth or G-string. Relieved but somehow disappointed, I immediately realized that I wasn’t seeing things with third eye. Still, it was mind-boggling to have found a vagabond in a very secluded place that night. The “kapre” must have thought the same thing about me.

Before turning toward the Sierra, I drank a cupful of palamig bought from a night street vendor in Famy. In the midst of the rice fields,  I heard an animal sound that I couldn't discern if it was of frog or bird. The stranger thing about the cawing was that it seemingly had a consistent sound pattern as if made by a single unrelenting animal. I later noticed that the sound was created by a number of animals with highly synchronized vocalization. It also seemed that the volume pattern was unchanging from the rice fields to the hills as if the animals were of the same proximity from me all through out.

I got down the bike a number of times to push it uphill. At one point, I rested on the façade of a small house hearing the dialogues of a prime time telenovela. I appreciated the remaining woodlands of upland Famy and Siniloan. Fierce dogs especially those guarding woodcraft shops tried to catch up to bite my legs. One pair drove me near the edge of a cliff. I missed falling down the ravine by a few feet.

Maybe because I was tired and sleepless that I thought somebody in barong was standing by the roadside. Suddenly, an uncle who passed away nine years ago in Infanta came to my mind. The only time that I saw him in barong was during his wake! What could be so special about that day that my beloved uncle had to appear by the roadside? Definitely, it wasn’t my uncle’s death anniversary. Maybe because I was tired and sleepless that I thought there were connections between totally unrelated things.

I passed by an army checkpoint on the highest portion of the Famy-Infanta road at midnight. The bike light was failing and the checkpoint was almost unlighted. There had always been the strong presence of the rebel New People’s Army (NPA) in the area and the soldiers needed to be ready for any attack. One wrong move or sound could mean the end of my existence on earth. Fortunately, one of the sentries just shouted, “Gabing-gabi naman na ho ‘yang pagbibisikleta n’yo!” I just replied to the unseen friend, “Oo nga ho, eh!”

Since the start of the travel, I was praying that the sea in Real would be calm when I pass through its shore. Strong waves would batter the highway during bad weather. It was raining and the gusts were pounding that night on the Sierra. I was afraid that the rain and gusts would continue and that I would be engulfed by the waves in Real.

I dozed off a number of times while freewheeling down to the Pacific shore. In one instance, the wheels crashed against the rugged portion of the road. The sudden impact almost made me lose hold. I immediately regained balance though. Good thing the bike wasn’t damaged but the force did hurt my hands, arms and shoulders.

The sea was relatively calm when I passed by. No big waves battering the road that night. It was disturbing to find even a few young people loitering around some parts of the road during those unholy hours. The soothing sound of the sea and the cool breeze made it easy for me to sleep a little while resting on a bridge in the midst of darkness

It was already 2 A.M. when I arrived at the town proper of Infanta. Ate Tina immediately woke up when I knocked and called at the gates. I felt ashamed for waking her up very early in the morning. Once inside the house of my hosts, I immediately proceeded to the bathroom to take shower to remove the dirt off my body.

Auntie Aida cooked breakfast that early. I was dumbfounded when she asked, “Did you know what was special about yesterday?”

I remembered asking myself the same question when passing through the mountains hours before midnight.

“Yesterday was your Uncle’s birthday!”