Trekking with the Luntians and Solo Long Distance Bicycling
Photo courtesy of Kalikasan Tawbuid
Last year, I accomplished my
first Laguna Lake loop with a side trip to Infanta on bicycle. The next plan was
to complete a second Lake loop with a climb on Mt. Sembrano in Pililla. The Luntians
who were to commute from Calamba to Pililla would meet me at jump-off. Leaving home
at 3:30 A.M. on bicycle was already late as to the set schedule. It was still possible
for me to catch up with the Luntians though.
The national road glittered with Christmas
lights hours before dawn. Churchgoers for Misa de Gallo walked through the roadsides
in Cabuyao. Festive churches were brightly lighted. The cold breeze blew softly throughout the trip. Christmas spirit was everywhere that early morning.
Minutes after I left house, the
bicycle wobbled. The rear tire was flat! Pushing the bike from the first
overpass in Santa Rosa to the vicinity of the University of Perpetual Help in
Biñan to look for a 24-hour vulcanizing shop was a lot more strenuous than biking. It was tempting to ride the jeepney with the dilapidated
bike but doing so would create a gap in the Laguna Lake loop. A group of tricycle drivers told me that I just missed a vulcanizing shop 300
meters back. I turned back but found the shop closed. I passed by three more closed
shops in the middle of darkness along the national road.
The 24-hour vulcanizing shop was in
Biñan. Due to the stress on my legs and shoulders caused by pushing the bike
for quite a distance, I doubted if I would still be able to accomplish the
objectives of climbing Mt. Sembrano and roaming around the Lake. An old tricycle
driver who I talked with seemed to think that circling the Lake on bicycle was impossible.
He kept on smiling but could have had enough had I told him that, aside from
circling the Lake, I would also climb Mt. Sembrano that day. In just a few minutes,
the technician was able to repair the tire interior that had sustained three
pin-size holes. The kind worker charged thirty pesos only for the early morning
trouble.
In Muntinlupa, crossing path with
a sounding train on old PNR track was thrilling. Trains traversing old PNR
tracks were rarely seen for a long time. I thought of riding one when I go to
Divisoria.
After the uphill in Binangonan, I freewheeled
down to the junction of Cardona and the diversion road to Morong. Learning that
the low gear wasn’t working well, I decided not to ascend the diversion and instead proceeded to Cardona town proper. To avoid passing through the town
centers of Baras and Tanay, I passed through the Morong-Tanay highway. I was still
in Morong when I read the text message that the Luntians had already started
hiking in Pililla at 8:24 A.M. In Pililla, I stopped for two cups of ice-cold buko
juice sold by a man who was making buko salad for Noche Buena. He made sure
that the juice wouldn’t be wasted and was making profit out of it. Fine example
of sustainable development strategy applied on micro level economic activity.
Photo courtesy of Joseph Pasia
I arrived at jump-off at 9:45
A.M. After registering, I made sure that the bike was secured by two bike locks.
Minutes later, I was hiking on a paved but very steep road. The end of the paved
road was the opening salvo for a rocky trail. The higher the trail, the
narrower it became. Asking some locals for directions made tracking easier. According
to local estimate, the Luntians had not reach summit yet. This gave me hope to
catch up with the Luntians. I crossed twice or thrice the length of a rustling
stream. I didn’t expect that a sizeable part of Mt. Sembrano was still
forested. The cell phone rang on the steepest and rockiest portion of the
trail. The Luntians were nearby. After a
while, I heard their voices from the bushes. Shortly after, we were already conversing
and yet I couldn’t see them because of the vegetation. They were out of the
trail! I told them to follow my voice to put them right on track. One by one,
four Luntians appeared from the thickets—Joseph Pasia, overall coordinator of
Ugnayan Kalikasan and alumnus-adviser of Lyceum Kalikasan; Jason Morales, auditor of Don Bosco Kalikasan; Paulo Miguel
Cervantes, chairman of Ugnayan Kalikasan Council of Elders and faculty adviser
of Don Bosco Kalikasan; and Patrick Nueva, alumnus-adviser of Perpetual Help
Kalikasan. They could have been lost in the forest for long had I not found them.
On summit, the Luntians did what
they had to do. They took pictures and videos of a very beautiful place! I was
able to take a few shots using my old cell phone. It was drizzly, foggy and
windy on the summit. The waves made by the wind as it blew over the sea of
grass mesmerized everyone. The most exciting part of the trek was the hike to
the pinnacle when the wind was pounding hard.
Photo courtesy of Kalikasan Tawbuid
Photo courtesy of Kalikasan Tawbuid
Photo courtesy of Kalikasan Tawbuid
The ordeal in Santa Rosa and Biñan
and the sudden descent on Mt. Sembrano had taken their toll. My left knee hurt
so much giving me a hard time pedaling through Jala-jala. Night came to the
town proper earlier than I did. The bike had no light and fell down a number of
times in the cracks on the road.
Since I could barely use my left
leg, I spent more than two hours pedaling in Jala-jala. At one point, I was
already singing Sampaguita’s rock classic “Laguna” when the waiting shed with the Y-shaped post appeared on roadside. The Y-shaped post was a symbol for a
political dynasty in the province of Rizal. To my disappointment, similar posts appeared
each time I thought I was already in the province of Laguna.
Youngsters on their little bikes swooshed past me all throughout the Jala-jala-Pakil road. I thank God whenever motorists
passed by lighting the road with headlights. The pain in my knee and the
seemingly endless pedaling made me asked God to forgive all my sins and forego punishment
that I was suffering.
Passing through a bridge halfway an unpaved
portion of the road made me think that I was already crossing the
provincial boundary. But I was only convinced that I had just entered Laguna when
I saw a waiting shed with an A-shaped post! Could politicians ever think of better
projects than just erect waiting sheds with posts shaped like the first letters of their surnames?
It was cold and drizzling when I
entered Laguna. The carinderia where I stopped over last year in west Pangil was
already closed. I proceeded with the journey and had dinner in a lomihan in
Mabitac at 10:15 P.M. After lomi, I found out that the front tire was flat! Again,
I had to push the bike through the road in the middle of darkness to search for
a 24-hour vulcanizing shop.
It felt strange going through a
very peaceful community with strange-looking houses on both sides of the
road. After a while, I realized that I
was in the middle of a cemetery and the “houses” were actually mausoleums!
Community of rich dead people, I thought.
I was pushing the bike for more
than half a kilometer when I found a vulcanizing shop in front of a gasoline
station near Siniloan. Unfortunately, the shop was closed when I arrived. I called
on whoever was inside but nobody answered. It was raining and the wind was
fierce. The gasoline boys were apathetic when I asked them for some dry rags or
carton boards that I could have used to protect myself from the cold. Since I
didn’t have rags or boards, I took out my used and partially wet shirt from my
small bag to make a buffer between my back and the cold surface of a concrete
step. I lied down to sleep on my cold concrete bed at the facade of a
vulcanizing shop. Good thing the roof was wide enough to protect me from the
rain and a van was parked in front of the shop shielding me from too much wind.
It was chilling cold throughout
the night. I thought the wind would blow the roof away. Mosquitos were on the
attack. I was able to sleep for two hours only. At sunrise, the young technician
and his wife were surprised to find out that I had spent the night on their
step. Ronnel, the technician, immediately worked on the tire interior while his
wife, Marianne, made a cup of hot coffee for me to drink. I bought 25 pieces of
pandesal for our breakfast from an ambulant vendor. Each piece was just a
little bit wider than my thumb but it was for me the best tasting pandesal ever!
My son Jong and my nephew LJ were
the firsts to meet me when I arrived home. I could see the happiness and
excitement in my 10-year old son. He immediately asked me, “I thought you were
to arrive at eleven o’clock last night?”
I found it hard answering his
question.
“Well, anyway, it’s almost eleven
o’clock right now,” Jong said smiling. “Only that it’s already daytime.”
Photo courtesy of Joseph Pasia
