tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-209359111167141122024-03-13T19:14:54.535+08:00Dablog from DaboMy adventures on 2 wheels and other stories...Dabohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14769511494922411431noreply@blogger.comBlogger26125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20935911116714112.post-3135916818225845352009-03-18T15:30:00.000+08:002009-03-18T19:30:34.359+08:00Understanding AustraliansI must write something about how difficult it is for a Filipino to understand Aussies' accent and slang. When I'm in a conversation with some Aussies, I find myself in full concentration mode... with all my processors working overtime in deciphering the lingo. I don't mean to disparage them really... after all I'm the newcomer and they've been speaking like this for eons.<br> <br> Here's an excerpt of a conversation I had with another Filipino who's been struggling with it:<br> <br> - watch out for the flies. You know the hats they sell at the souvenir stores with the corks hanging around? thats not decor- thats to shoo away the flies- you turn your head and the corks swing around to ward off the langaws. Its my theory that Ozs talk with a mummble because they'd be eating the flies if they open their mouths wide.<br> <br> David Valdes:<br> <br> Ha ha ha... good one... especially the mumbling part. minsan ang hirap nilang intindihan. And don't ever let them spell out words that you dont understand. It's even worse! This morning I asked an agent where the house for rent was... I couldnt understand her so I asked her to spell it out: E-m-e-r-o-o Street daw... hanap ako ng hanap ng Emeroo... wala naman!<br> <br> Finally nahanap ko na... Amaroo street pala. Ano ba yan?!? <!-- multiply:no_crosspost --><p class='multiply:no_crosspost'></p>Dabohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14769511494922411431noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20935911116714112.post-54222987109111325332009-03-17T16:46:00.000+08:002009-03-17T20:46:41.057+08:00Bee Dee BagsWell for all you guys who like to read the details, here's my kuwento on how I got myself a new job in Oz. <br> <br> Sometimes I wonder what crazy thought went into us to make this big, bold move to Australia... Every so often I have to remind myself that it is for the kids...<br> <br> It hasn't been easy looking for a place to stay and job searching at the same time. After so many years of being so complacent and being secure... I suddenly realize that I'm no longer used to dealing with so much uncertainty in my life. But somehow things are falling in place. I've never been the religious type but suddenly I'm just very aware somebody up there is still in charge and watching over us. <br> <br> When I arrived at Sydney I knew that I had to go to Wagga Wagga as soon as I could because everyday spent in Sydney was a day that could have been spent looking for work in Wagga. But it was tough even looking for a temporary place to stay in Wagga. I didnt want to spend weeks in an expensive motel. Like I said, my guardian angel must be working overtime because my contact here, David Bardos, approached his neighbor and was able to convince them to let me rent a spare room. <br> <br> On the job front, I'd been applying for jobs but there hasn't been that many for marketing executives considering that Wagga is a small city with limited jobs for executives. But as fate would have it, David Bardos introduced me to his boss, Colin Taggert, the publisher who is also a recent migrant from Scotland. Colin could only offer me a sales job which he felt wasn't really along my line. So he suggested that I make a call to Bruce Dicker who is noted to be quite approachable. Bruce is a 67 year old entrepreneur based in Wagga who runs Bee Dee bags. <br> <br> So that's what I did. I made a cold call to his office, spoke to a lady, and dropped Colin's name. Next thing I know, Bruce is on the other line agreeing to have coffee with me. The powers of networking! Bruce has a great story to tell. He joined the air force in Wagga in the 50s as an aircraft mechanic and after leaving the military, he decided to work in a hardware store and eventually decided to make it on his own. He started selling freezer bags loaded into his car and went for weeks on end selling his bags to groceries in the region. Eventually his business grew. But he really became "the bag man" when he boldly went off to China to seek out the source of the paper bags he was buying from middle men. Eventually he invested in the Chinese factory in Jiamusi, in the north east of China where he now gets all his stock. He jokingly calls his Chinese wife, the secret of his success in doing business in China. I think Bee Dee Bags sells over AUD$12 million of shopping bags a year. <br> <br> Well, Bruce and I seemed to hit it off over coffee last week. He fondly remembers his one and only trip to Manila in the late 80s and could still recall the standard "Mabuhay" and "Salamat" salutations. Not a man to mince words, he asked me what I did for a living and if I was looking for a job. And again as fate would have it... Bee Dee Bags does need an executive who can help put more structure into the fast growing company. They need someone who can help them professionalize their marketing and operations. I could not have asked for a better fit. <br> <br> The next day I was having lunch with his management team. Exactly one week from the day I had coffee with him, Bruce made me a job offer. One side of me wanted to jump up and down and give the team a group hug... but I played it cool and told him that I would give my answer on Friday. Not that I think it will take me that long to read and examine his 3 page job offer. Just wanted to make sure I'm not making any rash emotional decisions. It looks likely though that I'll be signing the offer and starting work this coming Monday.<br> <br> Too me, all of this is unraveling into an amazing story of coincidence, destiny and grace from the Almighty . I hope and pray this story continues to be a happy one.<br> <br> Now to find a house. <!-- multiply:no_crosspost --><p class='multiply:no_crosspost'></p>Dabohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14769511494922411431noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20935911116714112.post-43800993619733566012009-03-08T16:41:00.000+08:002009-03-08T20:41:08.716+08:00Wagga Wagga<div style="font-family: arial,helvetica,sans-serif;font-size: 10pt;"><div><span class="insertedphoto"><a href="http://slickflicker.multiply.com/photos/hi-res/upload/SbO74woKCtMAAEDleJA1"><img class="alignleft" src="http://images.slickflicker.multiply.com/image/1/photos/upload/300x300/SbO74woKCtMAAEDleJA1/Australia-Mar-2009-011.jpg?et=rvLWcfhXwQy22C49APtssA&nmid=0" border="0"></a></span>Dear Dad,<br><br>How are things? I thought I'd write this email to you and just let Adelle print it out for you.<br><br>Oks naman ako dito. I spent a little over a week in Sydney... I had to wait until I could find a place to stay in Wagga Wagga... my friend here was able to get me a rented room at the house of a young filipino couple in Wagga. I bought a second hand Honda CRV so that I could drive to Wagga which is about 5 hours away. I also bought a GPS so that I wouldnt have a hard time navigating. This device can navigate for you. Just punch in the house number, street and city... and it will give you directions verbally and visually to the destination. It works using satellite signals.<br> <br> So i drove to Wagga last Feb 23 and since then Ive been trying to get a feel of the place and also applying to a few jobs which Ive seen online. I attended a conference on the "regional" (read: provincial) economy which was great because I met a lot of people from the city hall (they call it council) and from some big businesses here. Working for the council is a big possibility for me because they pay well and are prime employers here (unlike in the Philippines where you would hate to work for the government).<br> <br> So far I think it was a good choice for me to choose Wagga because they are only slightly affected by this crisis. Wagga is the center of an area called Riverina, where much of Australias wine comes from. There are a lot of cattle here as well and Cargill, one of the world's largest agri companies, operates here. Many consumers from the small towns come over to Wagga during the weekend to shop so it is also a big retail center. It is like an Alabang Town Center with lots of residential areas surrounding the main city center and main street where all the shops are. There are 2 malls which are right beside each other. Not very large but you can have all the city conveniences you can find there. <br> <br> Internet connection is expensive here because the population density isnt high so you can imagine the infrastructure cost. But otherwise, I'm surprised that much of everything else (hard goods like appliances) is about the same price as manila. Food might even be cheaper here. But what is really expensive are the services. Anything that requires any sort of labor is expensive like restaurants, haircuts, car repairs, healthcare, etc. Shops close early here (5pm) but at least the grocery is open till 10pm.<br> <br> Today I tried exercising on my road bike (I brought it partially dismantled from Manila!) for the first time. I rode about 23kms. short ride lang but very nice. Theres a small lake nearby that is very picturesque. Sun sets here at around 8pm so many people exercise right after getting off at 5pm. The weather is extremes. In the daytime it gets hot up to about 32 C but at night it goes down to about 13 C. Sometimes I go to bed in shorts and I wake up at around 2am to put on a sweater and pants because of the cold. Parang the house gets warm and keeps it inside but later on the cold just gets in. and its just summer. Soon it will get colder as autumn comes in around April.<br> <br> Bye for now.<br> <br> Dave</div></div> <!-- multiply:no_crosspost --><p class='multiply:no_crosspost'></p>Dabohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14769511494922411431noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20935911116714112.post-24436905518411139322009-02-04T05:23:00.000+08:002009-02-04T10:23:38.684+08:00Moving to Australia<font size="2">Dear Friends,<br><br>It would have nice to have been able to tell you personally about my plans but unfortunately time isn't on my side. After a deep assessment of my family's future, particularly of my two young children (one of whom has special needs), we have decided to relocate to Australia.</font><font size="2"><font size="1"><span style="font-size: 12pt;"></span></font></font> It was a difficult decision to make considering that our entire family has spent most of our lives in the Philippines and have no regrets for the wonderful years we have spent here.<br><br>The kids have reacted to this move with mixed feelings. Trianna, our 10 year old girl, is the most emotional. She will sorely miss her cousins, friends and even her closet door which is festooned with stickers full of sentimental attachments. She was somewhat comforted after Elena and I told her that the Philippines will continue to be our home but we have decided that there's no harm in creating a new home in Australia as well. Trianna is as smart as she is sentimental. We're confident she will be able to psyche herself up to the challenge.<br><br>Our 14 year old Kiko is raring to go. He feels Australia will be a new and exciting experience for him and he can always make new friends. Kiko is truly special. Although he struggles with algebra and math, he will always easily make friends. We hope Australia can give him the opportunities to achieve a comfortable level of independence when he grows up.<br><br>So I leave on February 12 for Sydney, and I will try to establish my new career somewhere in Australia. Hopefully, Elena and the kids will follow around April.<br><br>I will give you an update as soon as it is clearer exactly where I will be and what I will be doing... for now, keep in touch and wish us luck! <br><br><br>Regards,<br><br><br>David <!-- multiply:no_crosspost --><p class='multiply:no_crosspost'></p>Dabohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14769511494922411431noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20935911116714112.post-19443011503505364442008-12-30T15:50:00.000+08:002008-12-30T20:50:13.126+08:00Dad and Mom's 50th Wedding Anniversary<span class="insertedphoto"><a href="http://slickflicker.multiply.com/photos/hi-res/upload/SVoYaQoKCtMAABBcY0w1"><img style="width: 216px;height: 432px;" class="alignleft" src="http://images.slickflicker.multiply.com/image/1/photos/upload/300x300/SVoYaQoKCtMAABBcY0w1/anniv-card.jpg?et=YvShosnpaF9d7g8r0fPpkA&nmid=0" border="0"></a></span>Moma and Dad just celebrated their 50th Wedding Anniversary last December 27. Amazing! I can still vividly remember celebrating their 25th Anniv in our house in Q.C. then we also celebrated their 40th in Tagaytay. <br><br>This celebration was especially poignant because many of Dad's siblings have passed away... Tito Carlitos, Tita Hermy, Tito Dido, Tito Rick, Tito Jaiming. Most of them passed away barely 12 months ago... Lola Lourdes (Mom's mother) also passed away a few days before the celebration.<br><br>Here's the speech I gave during the celebration in honor of my beloved parents:<br><br>"Thru out the 50 years of marriage, mom and dad's roles have evolved. As a newly married couple, it was just the two of them. Caring for each other and building their relationship as LOVERS. But when the kids started coming one after the other, they became true PARENTS. One as the PROVIDER, working to bring in the money needed to sustain the family, the other providing the motherly love as a CAREGIVER and selflessly sharing her presence needed to build the kids' personalities and values. Both roles, equally important. Both were ROLE MODELS sacrificing much for the sake of the family. Dad practically had to handle 2 jobs as he shuttled from Bacolod to Manila handling the 2 offices. Mom endured years of stress as the mother of 4 rambunctious kids while Dad often left her alone... to play volleyball in Luguay. <br><br>I can't imagine how Mom pulled thru those trying years... I still lay claim to the record of most house damage in the least amount of time. I ruined 50000 worth of chinese antiques in a split second after I cartwheeled into a shelf full of chinese jars. You guys ever wonder why mom gets nervous everytime I get near her chinese stuff? Kaya panay bato, bakal at kahoy na lang ang binibigay niya sa akin pamana. mahilig naman daw ako sa tribal artifacts.<br><br>Then, when dad joined the government, mom had to become more entrepreneurial and so she too became a PROVIDER.<br><br>They were EDUCATORS too. Mom honing our language skills and Dad terrorizing... Ah este training us in Math. They were COACHES in more ways than one. All of us boys grew up loving sports. But more than that we got an earfull of wise, life-coaching advise... Solicited or unsolicted... but nonetheless very much appreciated.<br><br>As we began our careers and started our own families, dad and moms roles continued to evolve. No longer doting parents, they became our SAFETY NETS. Always around to provide us the financial and morale support when needed. Mom can u babysit? Mom can I borrow the car? Dad can u lend me some money? Pay u back in 5 years.<br><br>All thru out these changing times, I've always been amazed at how my parents have adapted to these changing roles with so much grace. Sometimes I think it is us kids who have not adapted well to these changes. We falsely think our parents will always be the same way. Forever young and forever a part of growing up. <br><br>I recall facing stark reality just a few years ago when I foolishly invited dad to ride my mountain bike. Dad, already in his 70s, rode the bike alright. But I forgot to tell him where the brakes were so he careened downhill, lost control, and flew off the bike, landing face first into the dirt. I distinctly remember wondering what the jail term was for killing your own dad.<br><br>Luckily, despite the temporary amnesia, dad recovered without permanent damage. I think. I still get a rush of guilt when he calls me up and forgets why he did. Senior moment lang yun. Di ba dad?<br><br>Nowadays, we are all grownup and thru the grace of God we are all healthy, more self sufficient and comfortable, living our lives and bringing up our own families... It may seem that mom and dads roles in our lives aren't as evident. <br><br>We think our parents will always be around, ready when we call on them for help, and yet keeping them a safe distance away so they don't cramp our style... . <br><br>Many times, instead of showing our gratitude for all the years of parenting, we rebuff them and shun their help.<br><br>Ironically, I think our parents way of pushing us to value our independence and to make our own way, is partly what drives this behavior. It is truly their greatest legacy that they have equipped us with the tools to build our own families.<br><br>So, Dad and Mom, the next time you feel your help is being snubbed... just remember that its your own fault for teaching us too well!<br><br>Yes we can never avoid the fact that our lives are continually changing, our roles evolving. I realize that eventually, our new role will be to care for Mom and Dad as they have cared for us. <br><br>One thing will never change, it is the fond memories of life's little lessons, and the love that drives it all. Next year, my family will likely be in Australia, although a part of our hearts will always remain with Mom and Dad. Mom, Dad, don't worry, we will always be there for you even if we're physically away.<br><br><br>I love you Mom. I love you Dad. <br> <!-- multiply:no_crosspost --><p class='multiply:no_crosspost'></p>Dabohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14769511494922411431noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20935911116714112.post-80067043624007738112008-12-10T15:21:00.000+08:002008-12-10T20:21:32.355+08:00Pacman Eats up the Golden BoyThanks to a couple of free tickets from Dennis, I got to watch the Pacquiao - de la Hoya fight with Kiko in Rockwell (live via satellite). <br><br>I think this is the first time I've gone inside a dark theater to watch a boxing match. It was full and luckily we had guaranteed numbered seats. You could feel the excitement of the crowd as he pre-event matches finally wound down. And when Pacquiao first appeared on screen, wrapping his own hands (!) as Roach looked on, the crowd began to clap and a muffled roar let off from the audience.<br><br>Of course I wanted Pacquaio to win but I had serious doubts about him winning against the future hall of famer, de la Hoya. Was I ever so wrong. During the first round, I wasn't too excited and refused to clap at the puny jabs that Pacquaio threw against the golden boy's gloves. He's wary of running into that jab and vaunted left hook of de la Hoya I thought.<br><br>Then I saw something remarkable, Manny threw a left hand lead that kicked back Oscar's head. Not that big a punch but you could see Oscar's face change. Wow, I thought, Manny didn't even set that up with a right jab. He just went in and threw it. And in the following rounds, he did it again, and again, often times spinning to Oscar's left and avoiding the expected right counter punch. Amazing! Manny didn't seem to have lost any of his speed.<br><br>To sum up the experience, it was a satisfying and jubilant win but I agree with the many pundits that it wasn't even close to the Pacman's best matches.<br><br>I personally think that Manny's best fight remains his sensational win against Barrera way back in 2003. The latter was being touted as one of the best boxers ever and Manny was an unheard of Filipino. But Manny shocked the hell out of the boxing community by overwhelming Barrera, stopping him in the 11th round. Manny was amazing in that fight. His combinations quickly landing before Barrera could move. <br><br>Well, this last fight with de la Hoya wasn't great but it certainly was memorable. Manny still showed his quickness and a new trait... patience. That it was a mismatch is not Manny's fault really, Oscar was just so slow. Maybe he trained too hard... maybe he just couldn't fight at that low weight.... Maybe he went on a South Beach or an Atkins low carb diet... he he he.<br><br><br>I think Roach said it best. "My fighter trained to win, Oscar trained to make the weight".<br><br><br> <!-- multiply:no_crosspost --><p class='multiply:no_crosspost'></p>Dabohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14769511494922411431noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20935911116714112.post-7074971962868926062008-07-11T19:40:00.000+08:002008-07-17T21:18:50.491+08:00Reminiscing in Bacolod Just got back from Bacolod. I had the good fortune of being invited to back to give a talk to a Rotary Club. I only stayed overnight but it was great to be able to see some of friends who I haven't seen for close to 30 years!<br><br>It has been a while since I last visited. Last year I literally passed by on my way to and from Sipalay but I didn't really get to see much of my childhood hometown. Before that, I had visited in 2004 and I did get to see old family friends like the Namins and the Jacintos.<br><br>This trip though was especially memorable. I got a surprise call from an old swimming team buddy, Romy Lopez. He and a couple of Batch 81 friends were having an impromptu reunion. He saw my face in the Rotary print ad and decided to invite me as well.<br><br>Although I recognized Romy I had to struggle to with the other guys. 30 years! Its amazing I could still remember some of the names. John Bonnin, Bong Gindap, Mayo Unson, Vince Soberano, Dave Alba, Gerard Mora, Gil Octaviano, Baby Legaspi, Ray Tiongson and Jonathan Sales. As we talked though, memories began to flood in and their 40++ year old faces started to become younger and younger as the night wore on. By the 4th beer, I could see all of them as 14 year old faces.<br><br>Those were memorable years indeed. We were in the middle of puberty and our hormones were rampaging through our bodies. And the experiences and escapades were retold again and again that night. First loves never really die. Nor do first crushes. We recalled our trip to Siliman U in Dumaguete for a dual meet of the swim teams. Vince and I vividly recall the 2 beautiful mestiza sisters from Siliman who broke records and some young hearts.<br><br>Vince is amazing. A 44 year old world title holder in Muay Thai (kickboxing)! He looked like he got carved out of a granite rock. I couldn't believe this guy's passion for his art. He's the real deal. Google him and check out his knock out fights on You Tube.<br><br>Romy is the same Romy. He was probably the most down-to-earth nice guy then and even now. He was just one of those reliable and conservative friends, who would never give you any BS. He was one of the most hard working in the swim team. My impression then was he got a solid set of values from his "Papa" (who seemed to never fail to personally pick him up after school). Now he is married to his former bank officemate, and they have a 2 boys, 13 and 7. but surprise, surprise, a girl on the way. We each had a nice bowl of pancit molo soup to wind down the evening at 2am; a truly traditional Illonggo way to nurse a hangover after a night of drinking. <br><br>We agreed that I have to come back.... soon. Perhaps a climb up Mt. Kanlaon in November? I remember being very upset at not being permitted to climb this fabled volcano way back in the 70s. Last year, some of the guys sent me an invite to climb but my trip to Switzerland got in the way.<br><br>Well I'm aiming for that climb in November... I hope the weather holds out. I've had a streak of bad luck this year caused by weather. Rains prevented a boat trip (and a dive) around El Nido in January, my climb up Guiting-guiting was aborted due to fog, and our voyage to Tubbataha got scuttled due to the early monsoons. Weather weather lang yan.<br><br><br> <!-- multiply:no_crosspost --><p class='multiply:no_crosspost'></p>Dabohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14769511494922411431noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20935911116714112.post-88515532202654342592008-06-27T19:44:00.000+08:002008-06-29T20:53:17.481+08:00Climbing Mt. Guiting-guiting <a href="http://slickflicker.multiply.com/photos/hi-res/upload/SGUQ3woKCtMAAAfgNVc1"><span class="insertedphoto"><a href="http://slickflicker.multiply.com/photos/hi-res/upload/SGeFCQoKCtMAAAafMso1"><img class="alignmiddleb" src="http://images.slickflicker.multiply.com/image/1/photos/upload/300x300/SGeFCQoKCtMAAAafMso1/P4210137.JPG?et=CpsW0cJQZIP6p0ioUqWXlw&nmid=0" border="0"></a></span><span class="insertedphoto"></span><span class="insertedphoto"></span><span class="insertedphoto"></span><span class="insertedphoto"></span></a><span class="insertedphoto"></span>That Sibuyan trip was really memorable and not just because of the boat ride. Mt. Guiting-guiting dominates the Sibuyan landscape. As far back as the 80s I have heard about this legendary mountain named after its jagged, scissor-like peaks. It's not as hard to climb as Mt. Halcon but it's noted to be a dangerous and scary climb because you have to pass through a knife-edged ridge to get to the peak. If the winds are strong and the fog is thick, passing through this ridge can be hair-raising.<br><br><a href="http://slickflicker.multiply.com/photos/hi-res/upload/SGdojAoKCtMAAGHIANM1"><img class="alignleft" src="http://images.slickflicker.multiply.com/image/1/photos/upload/300x300/SGdojAoKCtMAAGHIANM1/P4190042.JPG?et=JAxzMasQOrgvAACHWsbJ%2Cw&nmid=0" border="0"></a><br>The usual route is to climb from Magdiwang town and reach Mayo's peak by the end of the first day. On the second day, you drop your pack and assault the peak via the knife edge and then back again to the Mayo's peak camp site to spend the night. By the third day you are back in Magdiwang. Its a good itinerary that's been well developed since the 80s. But the weather can be tricky at Guiting as we were to find out. It's even more unpredictable during a La Nina year like 2008. <a href="http://slickflicker.multiply.com/photos/hi-res/upload/SGUQ3woKCtMAAAfgNVc1"><span class="insertedphoto"></span></a><br><br>In the mid 1980s 4 mountaineers from UP perished on this mountain. The 4 were acquaintances and part of that friendly rivalry between our UP Divers Club and the UP Mountaineers. Their deaths were brought to my mind again a few days ago. 4 mountaineers from AMCI were caught by a flashflood while climbing down a mountain in Zambales at the height of Typhoon Frank. One of the climbers survived unlike those in Sibuyan. The townfolk of Magdiwang still remember the day when the bodies were brought down from the mountain over 20 years ago. When they retell the story, first names are used to describe the 4. It was with this in mind that I started my trek.<a href="http://slickflicker.multiply.com/photos/hi-res/upload/SGdtfgoKCtMAAFQb3ZY1"><img class="alignright" src="http://images.slickflicker.multiply.com/image/1/photos/upload/300x300/SGdtfgoKCtMAAFQb3ZY1/P4190051.JPG?et=7MCeByEVmS54Urcxx8DAjQ&nmid=0" border="0"></a><span class="insertedphoto"></span><br><br>It was already mid April but intermittent rains were still falling. The peak was almost always obscured by thick clouds. After an hour or so of hiking we had entered the thick forest that Sibuyan is best known for. At this point, we knew that this wasn't going to be an easy stroll. Poor Ed was already struggling despite having a porter to carry most of his stuff. All through out the climb I was worried about him and I was wondering whether he would ever forgive me for suggesting we climb Guiting-guiting during this project site visit.<br><a href="http://slickflicker.multiply.com/photos/hi-res/upload/SGUQ3woKCtMAAAfgNVc1"><span class="insertedphoto"></span></a><br>The ascent was gradual at the start but before long it became steeper as we moved through the thick forest. Even if it wasn't that hot and we were shielded from the sun by the thick foliage the humidity was stifling. Beads of sweat were running down my face and eventually I was soaked from head to ankles (I managed to keep my toes dry using thick socks). The guide and porters looked they were off on a Sunday stroll. The 2 porters had slippers on and despite that their surefootedness was astounding. <a href="http://slickflicker.multiply.com/photos/hi-res/upload/SGUQ3woKCtMAAAfgNVc1"><span class="insertedphoto"></span></a> Although the forest was thick, the trail was well established and the first 4 hours wasn't so bad. Eventually though we came upon a thicket of thin bamboo that kept getting snagging us. After 5 or so hours of walking, having these crooked little branches holding you back can be very infuriating. After the bamboo thicket the climb got a bit less irritating and a lot more scary. We were on all fours climbing up a 70 to 80 degree slope. Not easy with a full 40 kilo pack. Although this was the best place to admire the view, you can't really enjoy it when you're clinging on to dear life. Almost one and a half kilometers straight down was Magdiwang with its famously clean rivers meandering from the Guiting slope. After 9 exhausting hours we were finally at the camp site on Mayo's Peak. The camp was damp, muddy, misty... in short, miserable. <span class="insertedphoto"><a href="http://slickflicker.multiply.com/photos/hi-res/upload/SGUQ3woKCtMAAAfgNVc1"><img class="alignmiddleb" src="http://images.slickflicker.multiply.com/image/1/photos/upload/300x300/SGUQ3woKCtMAAAfgNVc1/P4200101.JPG?et=lpkvruktU5dItQJVj%2BW9tw&nmid=0" border="0"></a></span> At least the rain wasn't continuous and it allowed us to pitch our tents and cook without too much difficulty. Sleeping was tough especially when you accidentally set up your tent right on top of a big tree root. It didn't help that someone was snoring so loud it made the thunder sound mellow. My North Face tent was great and it held up well despite the rains and flooded camp ground. The next morning I could feel a big puddle of water under my tent (obvious poorly set up) but the inside was dry and the cold temperature inside was tolerable.<br><br>As we ventured out of our tents to have a look at the peak though, it was obvious that we weren't going any higher. We could see no further than 10 feet in front of us, and pushing through with the knife edge traverse would be unsafe. That day, the mountain had decided she was closed to visitors. Our guide said that his estimate is only about 70% of those that start out climbing Guiting ever reach the top mainly because of the weather. I needed no convincing and I told the group I was ready to go down. <br><br>If the 9 hours going up was exhausting, the 8 hours going down was excruciating. I knew I wasn't that well prepared physically for the climb. My strength and endurance training was barely a month long and I was relying on my banked fitness and mental toughness to get me through this. The leg presses served me well and my legs hardly cramped on the way up but my muscles seemed very unprepared for the downhill stress. My legs were quivering and there was muscle pain on almost every step. Luckily, my reconstructed Anterior Cruciate Ligament (ACL) on my left knee was not a problem. In fact there was no palpable difference between my left and right leg.. both felt terrible. Every so often, my legs would buckle under me and I would end up sliding down on my ass.<br><a href="http://slickflicker.multiply.com/photos/hi-res/upload/SGUQ3woKCtMAAAfgNVc1"><span class="insertedphoto"></span></a><a href="http://slickflicker.multiply.com/photos/hi-res/upload/SGeD1AoKCtMAAGc9@Jo1"><img class="alignmiddleb" src="http://images.slickflicker.multiply.com/image/1/photos/upload/300x300/SGeD1AoKCtMAAGc9@Jo1/P4200128.JPG?et=JFMwDKPnGSaNEn4V8kLMlw&nmid=0" border="0"></a><br>It was night fall by the time we got down to the ranger station and the rain was pouring. A few minutes earlier we had made the stupid mistake of cleaning up at the river but we were again muddy from the short slippery walk from the river to the station. It seemed strange that we were complaining more about the last 30 minutes when we had gone through a total of 18 exhausting hours of hiking.<br><br>(go to my Sibuyan photo album for more photos).<br><br><br><br><br><br><br><br> <!-- multiply:no_crosspost --><p class='multiply:no_crosspost'></p>Dabohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14769511494922411431noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20935911116714112.post-87142588034461842032008-06-27T15:34:00.001+08:002008-06-29T18:49:18.122+08:00Sibuyan and Inter-island ferries<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_h4fdL4eEzoI/SGdl1BM5srI/AAAAAAAAAJM/dP16bwCTH7I/s1600-h/P4230159.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_h4fdL4eEzoI/SGdl1BM5srI/AAAAAAAAAJM/dP16bwCTH7I/s320/P4230159.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5217250654862029490" border="0" /></a><br /> This latest disaster involving the ship, Princess of the Stars brings to mind my own recent trip to Sibuyan Island. The ship sank just 200 meters from the shoreline of San Fernando, one of the towns in Sibuyan I visited last April. One of the first reports of casualties was issued by Mayor Tansinco, who had graciously hosted breakfast for us back then. Her desperate call for help for her typhoon ravaged town came out in the papers today. My heart goes out to her and her hospitable town that sits at the foot of the Guiting-guiting mountain range.<br /><br />Sibuyan is an amazing island that's been isolated from the rest of the Philippines since before the ice age. Hence its flora and fauna has been unique and very diverse. Luckily much of the forests surrounding the mountains are still intact. WWF has been working in Sibuyan for more than 10 years and I believe this is one of the reasons why many of the people there are quite conscious of their environment and are very passionate about keeping their forests intact.<br /><br />I also recall vividly the inter-island ferry that brought me to the island. The weather was much calmer back in April but even then I would shudder to think how it would be like to be on board a sinking ship. With almost all decks of the ship full of people, it's no wonder scores of people die when ships like these sink. The ship I was in <a href="http://slickflicker.multiply.com/photos/hi-res/upload/SGTzvwoKCtMAAAPieWk1"><img class="alignright" src="http://images.slickflicker.multiply.com/image/1/photos/upload/300x300/SGTzvwoKCtMAAAPieWk1/P4180034.JPG?et=ussXFTvRGl5ZtHEVJpKC8g&nmid=0" border="0" /></a>wasn't as big as the Princess of the Stars (capacity: 2,000) but still we must have been close to 1,000 given the way they were packing people in. There seemed to be more people than bunk beds.<a href="http://slickflicker.multiply.com/photos/hi-res/upload/SGTuLwoKCtMAAGd@Qk41"><span class="insertedphoto"></span></a> With ships like these, you basically had 3 choices. First class cabin, first class bunks, and what they call COB, cot on board. Most passengers though call it Carton o Banig... and for good reason. People grab any open space on the decks and simply lay down their mats and carton sheets to sleep on. As soon as they're on board many of the passengers won't even leave their spot lest somebody comes along and steals their space.<br /><br />We thought we were lucky to get the last few bunks at the "first class" section. After going down 2 decks below, I realized it was going to be a long night. The A/C was blowing vast amounts of tepid air into this dark room full of bunks which reminded me of a dungeon. I situated myself away from the draft and took a mental note of where the exit was before forcing myself to sleep. No such luck though and to make matters worse, at the wee ho<a href="http://slickflicker.multiply.com/photos/hi-res/upload/SGTuLwoKCtMAAGd@Qk41"><span class="insertedphoto"></span></a><a href="http://slickflicker.multiply.com/photos/hi-res/upload/SGT6dAoKCtMAADETQ7U1"><img class="alignleft" src="http://images.slickflicker.multiply.com/image/1/photos/upload/300x300/SGT6dAoKCtMAADETQ7U1/P4230160.JPG?et=%2CJ2M3bSEmB0jSWjIVcAyuA&nmid=0" border="0" /></a>urs of the morning, more passengers started to noisily stream into our deck. Apparently our ship stops at 2 other Romblon towns to pick up passengers.<br /><br />The ship, like most interisland ships in the Philippines, was probably more than 10 years old. Possibly an old discard from either Japan or Taiwan bought cheaply and refurbished by enterprising Pinoys.<br /><br />When early morning came I recall seeing the silhouette of Sibuyan Island with the 2,000 meter peak of Mt. Guiting-guiting hidden by the clouds. The memories of a sleepless night slowly faded away as the rising sun began to illuminate the island. There were so many kids on board and their playful laughter and excited talk filled the ship.<br /><br />It's hard to imagine that almost everyday, these scene is replicated as thousands of Filipinos travel to and fro the islands of this archipelago. Sometimes I think about how to make travel like this safer. There seemed to be enough lifejackets and lifeboats on board yet when ships like these sink, more often than not, over half the passengers perish. In the case of the Princess of the Stars, it's not even a 10 percent survival rate. Experts say that many people simply freeze in terror when placed in a life threatening situation. Could this have been why hundreds died in the Princess? Many of the passengers apparently had time to put on their lifejackets. Yet when faced with the seemingly simple choice between jumping into the sea and staying inside a sinking ship, many chose the latter. Part of this I think is because many (or is it most?) Pinoys don't know how to swim. I've tried to teach adults how to swim in the past and seeing the sheer terror in their faces is a sight I won't soon forget.<br /><br />The same experts believe the key to breaking this lethargic reaction to crisis is training and drills. So these fire and earthquake drills really do make a difference. A simple act of reading and internalizing those safety cards on the plane can save lives. So the next time you hear, "slip vest around your neck, slip tape around waist and hook into d-ring, pull string to inflate..." listen carefully!<br /><!-- multiply:no_crosspost --><p class="multiply:no_crosspost"></p>Dabohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14769511494922411431noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20935911116714112.post-75236918124288486082008-06-11T10:59:00.000+08:002008-06-11T23:38:04.487+08:00Working in WWF Part 2 <span class="insertedphoto"><a href="http://slickflicker.multiply.com/photos/hi-res/upload/SE93RgoKCtMAAEob6vM1"><img class="alignleft" src="http://images.slickflicker.multiply.com/image/1/photos/upload/300x300/SE93RgoKCtMAAEob6vM1/IMG_6818.JPG?et=nQ0o771U1wb2Bw5SOpBbcw&nmid=0" border="0"></a></span>Adjusting to KKP has been quite a challenge indeed. The biggest difference compared to my past corporate life is the amount of thinking and planning that is brought to fore when we do our work. Everytime we get into something, careful planning, consultation and strategic brainstorming is done. As a result, our project work is usually well thought-out and documented. There is always a view of the long-term and a careful analysis of how the work benefits the communities. <br><br>Unfortunately, this also means things move slowly (but surely). Quite different from the fly-by-the-seat-of-your-pants style of my past corporate life. Can't really take a lot of risks in NGOs. Firstly, it's not really the org's money. Donors who give the millions can be very particular on where the money goes. Most of the time they restrict the spending to purely project related expenses. Only a small percentage can go to paying office overhead. That's really tough when the projects are few and far between.<br><br> Secondly there's really not enough money to start with, so careful planning is needed to avoid squandering it. In the corporate world often times you'll hear some bosses willng to take risks with the attitude of, "Well there's only one way to find out if this idea will work, let's try it out." A lot of times in business, we take risks because time is valuable. Pussy foot around and your competitor beats you to it.<br><br>Not to say that I never did feasibility studies or strategy documents, but nothing like the volumes that I've seen in WWF. I'm not saying it's wrong. Just that it takes a lot of getting used to.<br><br>I've moved around companies enough over the years and I don't recall ever having much difficulty adjusting to a new job. Well maybe I did. Moving from marketing into human resources management was a bit hard. I recall having a so-so performance evaluation during my first year. But after that, I hit my stride.<br><br>Shifting into the NGO world though is a different story. I had to dig hard into my data bank to bring up past learnings and experiences that I could apply to the new challenges that I was facing. It didn't help any that due to the lack of financial resources, much of the usual solutions just seemed out of reach. Nope, you can't just hire an extra hand to fix this or that problem. Everything is DO IT YOURSELF, or PUEDE NA YANG PAGTIYAGAAN (just grin and bear it).<br><br>Some of my friends who have seen me at PDI are shocked when they visit me at KKP. I used to have a big room, a huge desk, a big sofa with a coffee table at PDI. Now I have a low partitioned cubicle which I share with my assistant. From my vantage point I can see almost everyone in the office (and I can hear them too). No such thing as privacy. I've gotta make an effort to keep my temper and speak in a low voice when I have one on one meetings. He he he... there goes the old "Ballistic Dave".<br><br>Frankly, looking back at the last 10 months, I'm very lucky that I got this job at this part of my life. It has shaken me out of my comfort zone and it has forced me to stop being complacent. Perhaps 12 years of PDI work has dulled the edges. After a while it became routine and I stopped learning. At KKP, my brain is beginning to wake up and I'm starting to learn once again.<br><br>Next blog... traveling. The best part of this job.<br> <!-- multiply:no_crosspost --><p class='multiply:no_crosspost'></p>Dabohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14769511494922411431noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20935911116714112.post-56639802696849496592008-05-17T20:28:00.000+08:002008-05-18T00:28:45.752+08:00Working for WWF - Part 1After almost 10 months, I finally got the urge to start writing this long delayed blog. As you might know by now, I'm a lousy blog writer. Too slow. Shallow content. Too much biking stuff. Ok granted, but its fun anyway... especially going over the old blogs and figuring out why I was thinking that way months back. <br><br>Just so you know that this isn't entirely a bikiing blog, I've decided to write about my new job, even if it isn't that new anymore. It has been an amazing 10 months working for WWF. When I walked into this job I was determined to keep an open mind and to try not to let my first impressions take over. But I must admit that it's not been easy adjusting...<br><br>First off is the NGO paradigms. Chuck out the old capitalist mindset that profit and greed is good.... we're talking triple bottomline here. The 3 Ps. It's no longer just Profit; you gotta think about People and the Planet. Some call it the Economic, Social and Environment bottomlines. After a month or so working with WWF, I felt like a sinner headed for hell and trying very hard to be saved. I recall one incident that struck me. I was driving along EDSA with Susan, and we saw one of those roving billboards mounted on a truck. It was advertising Manila Ocean Park, a marine park that was about to open which we were partnering with. My first thought was that it was a good move for MOP. It showed they were confident about their market and that they were bravely investing in good marketing. Typical thoughts coming from a marketer who's been in this communication business for more than 20 years. But good old Susan goes, "That's terrible! Can you imagine all the CO2 they're emitting? We have to call them and tell them to stop this." I burst out laughing until I realized she wasn't joking. All throughout my career, I've always had this attitude that the world was full of "lesser evils" that we had to swallow. I've been a fan of advertising for all my life and for all its ubiquitousness and even intrusive nature, I felt it was a necessary part of business that people had to accept (and frankly enjoy).<br><br>I thought about it hard and realized that Susan was right. This climate change thing is no longer some theory concocted by some obscure doomsday scientist. And it's not one of those things that will go away if we don't think about it. Every little bit counts. Tolerating wastefulness and inefficient use of fossil fuels is like throwing out garbage out of your car and saying, "that's ok. It's a small part of the gazzilion tons of garbage the city produces every day."<br><br>More on this in Part 2.<br><br> <!-- multiply:no_crosspost --><p class='multiply:no_crosspost'></p>Dabohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14769511494922411431noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20935911116714112.post-81073755669238373622007-08-19T18:40:00.000+08:002007-08-22T01:02:57.078+08:00Apayao to Cagayan Bike for Mama Mary</div> <a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h4fdL4eEzoI/RssS7F2gMSI/AAAAAAAAAIE/0XcDfzLBdBg/s1600-h/Cabugao+Apayao+to+Piat+Cagayan+018.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5101191809319579938" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h4fdL4eEzoI/RssS7F2gMSI/AAAAAAAAAIE/0XcDfzLBdBg/s400/Cabugao+Apayao+to+Piat+Cagayan+018.jpg" border="0" /></a><br />We had a wonderful chance to visit Apayao last June. Robin and I got invited to join a tribute ride for Mama Mary as part of the fiesta celebration of Piat, Cagayan. Eboy's good buddy, "Atty", is from Cagayan and every year they organize an epic mountain bike ride around the area. This year the ride would begin from Cabugao, the capital of Apayao and end up in Piat.<br /><br />Apayao is probably one of those poor Philippine provinces that never gets any attention. It's so poor in fact that malaria still lurks in these hinterlands. As a precaution, Robin and I took prophylactic anti-biotic dosages. I had to drink this tablet once a day for 6 weeks! Apparently, you really won't know that you have malaria until weeks after the mosquito bite. Even the roads leading to the capital are unpaved gravel roads.<br /><br />Half the challenge of this trip was not just the planned 9 hour bike ride. It was the almost 24 hour car ride (one way) that would bring us through Cabanatuan, Cauayan, Tuguegarao,Piat and finally Cabugao, the capital of Apayao. We left Makati at around 8:30pm on a Thursday and finally arrived at Cabugao at around 7pm (!) the next day. We of course had the customary stops for meals and pictures along the way. Although I pinched hit for Robin for a couple of hours, Robin drove most of the way. It was amazing how he kept awake. We stopped for breakfast at Cauayan Isabela, hosted by the local bike group. Very hospitable people, and they really opened their homes for us. The food was simple but sumptuous. They had this really wild stew that was similar to "Papaitan". It looked like batchoy but extremely bitter; like a mixture of ampalaya and bile! Acquired taste obviously. Lunch was in Tuguegarao, the capital of Cagayan. You can't escape the buffet craze... even that far north. We wolfed down our food knowing full well we would need all the carbs we could get for the next day.<br /><br />Piat has a very old statue of the Virgin Mary and it is to Her name that we were riding. The plan was to motor to Cabugao, sleep overnight at the parish church seminary, then bike our way back to Piat the next morning. Hopefu<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_h4fdL4eEzoI/RssWcl2gMUI/AAAAAAAAAIU/qy8p1z4sex8/s1600-h/Cabugao+Apayao+to+Piat+Cagayan+011.jpg"></a>lly we would arrive in Piat in time for the 4pm Holy Mass in celebration of the Feast of our Lady of Piat. There we were supposed to meet close to a hundred other cyclists from Cauayan.<br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h4fdL4eEzoI/RssaGF2gMYI/AAAAAAAAAI0/hNytaR4dICE/s1600-h/Cabugao+Apayao+to+Piat+Cagayan+011.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5101199694879535490" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h4fdL4eEzoI/RssaGF2gMYI/AAAAAAAAAI0/hNytaR4dICE/s200/Cabugao+Apayao+to+Piat+Cagayan+011.jpg" border="0" /></a><br />We parked our vehicles at the church yard and boarded a dilapidated Kia van. The van looked like it was being held together by masking tape. But we crammed in 7 bikers in there along with our gear. We had to leave our cooler and some of our bags because we were bursting at the seams! Another 5 bikers crammed into Atty's pick up which had at least 6 bikes loaded onto it.<br /><br />Past Piat is a town called Tuao at the border of Cagayan that has a beautiful old church that is still in use. We kissed the cement roads goodbye and entered the land of gravel and dust. Most of us had actually never biked in the area before so we took careful note of the terrain as the van gingerly made its way to Cabugao. Knowing that we would pass the same road the next day although in reverse, we applauded everytime the van would climb and held our breath and prayed when the van would go down a descent. "Oh no, that was a long downhill section! We're going to have to climb that tomorrow!" All in all though, we noted that Cabugao was much higher than Cagayan so we knew it would be mostly downhill.<br /><br />The seminary at Cabugao was a modest compound in the middle of town. <a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h4fdL4eEzoI/RssViF2gMTI/AAAAAAAAAIM/M6x7HcZNMRw/s1600-h/Cabugao+Apayao+to+Piat+Cagayan+007.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5101194678357733682" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" height="220" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h4fdL4eEzoI/RssViF2gMTI/AAAAAAAAAIM/M6x7HcZNMRw/s200/Cabugao+Apayao+to+Piat+Cagayan+007.jpg" width="168" border="0" /></a>We were led to an old dormitory which seemed to be in a similar state as our Kia van. The priest and seminarians were in a conference somewhere so it was a bit strange moving into other people's rooms and sleeping in their beds. The downstairs toilet was sealed shut with tape with a strong warning sign against its use. He he he, no problem with compliance here. Hanging inside the bathroom were 2 pairs of camouflage design underwear. Uh oh, looks like the military has sent its deep penetration agents to spy against these leftist seminarians!<br /><br />The people though were very nice and they welcomed us with open arms. The swarming mosquitos welcomed us too. I fretted over that.. as a mountaineer, I can take a lot of discomfort... leaches, mud, heat, sleeping on hard floors, etc... but mosquitos piss me off big time. Luckily we had a fan and Off lotion. Dinner was simple and spartan... extremely tough pork but very good soup. Life is tough in Apayao... and it really gave me new respect for the life of a parish priest in the hinterlands.<br /><br />The next morning we were finally on our way back to Piat this time on our bikes. Most of the ride was through a winding loose gravel road that was thankfully wide enough. The loose gravel made it tough to keep one's balance especially on a downhill because tire grip was at a minimum. I could feel my front and rear wheels drifting from one side to another. Two of the guys <a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_h4fdL4eEzoI/RssXc12gMVI/AAAAAAAAAIc/Vf4taW0WaIw/s1600-h/Cabugao+Apayao+to+Piat+Cagayan+014.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5101196787186676050" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_h4fdL4eEzoI/RssXc12gMVI/AAAAAAAAAIc/Vf4taW0WaIw/s320/Cabugao+Apayao+to+Piat+Cagayan+014.jpg" border="0" /></a>took a spill. I was all prepped with elbow pads and newly purchased shin guards. The ironic thing is the only injury I got from the ride was a blister behind my knee from the shin guard straps.<br /><br />Admittedly, the view wasn't as spectacular as the Cordilleras. The road wasn't as high and therefore the cliffs weren't that sheer. But it was an experience nonetheless testing our endurance over 9 hours of bumpy roads. Fortunately, Robin and I prepared well for the ride. We prepared our power sandwiches (peanut butter and strawberry jam on whole wheat Gardenia bread) the night before. As I bit into my sandwich though, I realized Robin was overzealous with the peanut butter. The stuff stuck to my teeth, palate and throat sucking out every last bit of moisture in my mouth! Turns out that as Robin was slapping on the peanut butter that morning, he was muttering something about bonking (running out of energy) being the biggest danger in long rides. Well, I beg to disagree! Suffocation from peanut butter overdose must be higher on that danger list.<br /><br />Of course after downing one of those zillion calorie sandwiches, we suddenly stopped to have lunch. I didn't even realize they had packed fried chicken and rice into the back up van. I ate the chicken anyway... and I paid for that right after... the longest uphill climb was right after lunch! Despite that though, I did quite well. I passed Eboy and Atty on the climb and almost caught up with Lester as well. We stopped for <a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_h4fdL4eEzoI/RssYJ12gMWI/AAAAAAAAAIk/mmhWjxTzhNQ/s1600-h/Cabugao+Apayao+to+Piat+Cagayan+031.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5101197560280789346" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_h4fdL4eEzoI/RssYJ12gMWI/AAAAAAAAAIk/mmhWjxTzhNQ/s320/Cabugao+Apayao+to+Piat+Cagayan+031.jpg" border="0" /></a>a refreshing break at a natural flowing water source. Luckily it was a bit cloudy so the heat didn't pose that big a problem. The halo-halo stop was great though. Pinipig, banana, gulaman, sweet malagkit rice and other stuff made the halo-halo unique and much appreciated.<br /><br />Finally, after close to 9 hours on the road (including stops) I crossed the river that bordered Apayao and Cagayan at around 4pm. Just ahead was Tuao. By this time though, due to varying fitness levels and pace, the bikers were scattered. I was all alone and I knew Robin, Lester and some others were way ahead me. I decided not to stop in Tuao and proceed to Piat to try to catch up with the them. When I got to Piat, I was surprised to find no one around from our group. There were several vehicles including a large truck full of bicycles. The group from Cauayan had arrived hours before. When I opened my cellphone I realized they had all stopped at Tuao to regroup. They even sent the backup van to look for me! Yikes, what a blunder it was not to have left my cellphone open to receive messages. Oh well, hard lessons learned. By the time the group caught up with me it was dusk. Atty led the group in a thanksgiving prayer (an entire rosary again!) and afterward we argued on whether to grab a shower somewhere or to just proceed straight to Manila. A few hours later the issue was settled as we drove along this lonely road with no sign of civilization or even a faucet. So much for the shower.<br /><br />Again Robin drove most of the way... I took over a few hours later and told myself I'd try to drive for at least 2 hours. After just half an hour, I could hear my ipod's 80s music echoing mysteriously in my ear! Everything looked and sounded strangely surreal. The road seemed to float around. It was REALLY tough keeping awake. A couple of days later we found out that it wasn't just fatigue that was hitting us. A freon leak in the A/C system was discovered by Robin's mechanic. Freon apparently is toxic and can cause drowsiness symptoms! And I thought it was just the mind blowing music of Steely Dan! <img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5101198427864183154" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_h4fdL4eEzoI/RssY8V2gMXI/AAAAAAAAAIs/k7LZQLz-gTk/s320/Cabugao+Apayao+to+Piat+Cagayan+026.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />When we finally drove into my village the sun was up. We had been traveling on a bike and in a car for another incredible 24 hours. This ride was more than just a bike epic. It was a test of physical and mental endurance... or should I add, a test of butt endurance. </div><br /><div></div><br /><div></div>Dabohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14769511494922411431noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20935911116714112.post-81131120629365585262007-07-06T11:33:00.000+08:002007-07-12T18:40:57.443+08:00Bonanza Loop Finally Conquered!<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_h4fdL4eEzoI/Ro3N2ciHWYI/AAAAAAAAAG8/T3F7pv71gjQ/s1600-h/June+11,+2007+040.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5083945889627068802" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_h4fdL4eEzoI/Ro3N2ciHWYI/AAAAAAAAAG8/T3F7pv71gjQ/s400/June+11,+2007+040.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div>Wow! It's hard to believe that it's been 2 months since my last post. I guess it's all the more perplexing since I quit my job! Shouldn't I have more time to blog? Well, it's turned out that I do have more time... to ride.... he he he. These are the times when you realize what the more important things in life are. Funny thing is now that I'm not working, in-between-jobs as they say, I seem to be busier than ever. I wake up early and I feel like my days are full and well-spent, so much so that I get a good sleep at night.<br /></div><div>Ok, time to catch up on my blogs. One memorable ride we did was last June over the Independence day holiday. After 3 tries, we finally completed the Bonanza Loop! Recall that we first explored the trail with Robin and Joel way back in April. We reached up to the stream and turned back (t'was me who chickened out due to exhaustion). The second time my bottom bracket gave out 30 minutes into the trail.<br /></div><div>This time we challenged Elena, Mona, Nix and Kiko, our novice bikers, to help us finally close the loop. Frankly I was a bit worried about bringing them to a trail that we hadn't really fully explored. We knew they could make it to the stream, albeit with difficulty, but beyond that who knows what kind of uphills we would face? Robin, Bong and I just reassured them that we would take it slow and make frequent rest stops. I also insisted we start riding before 8 am to avoid the heat. The big risk we faced was we didn't know exactly where the trail starts to head down toward Montemar. Getting lost with a group of novice bikers is not exactly fun.<br /></div><div>We motored to the trail head in Bgy. San Antonio and parked, hoping we'd still see our cars there when we came back. Our plan was to bike all the way to the front of Montemar, and complete the ride via concrete roads to Bgy. Kabayo, where we were staying. Then we'd motor back to San Antonio to pick up the 2 other cars.<br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_h4fdL4eEzoI/Ro3QjsiHWaI/AAAAAAAAAHM/q-zf4qhYm-g/s1600-h/June+11,+2007+029.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5083948866039404962" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_h4fdL4eEzoI/Ro3QjsiHWaI/AAAAAAAAAHM/q-zf4qhYm-g/s320/June+11,+2007+029.jpg" border="0" /></a><br />It was a beautiful, sunny but cool morning as we set out. Luck was on our side, even the poultry farm wasn't so smelly. The novice riders looked comfortable as we hit the first rest stop for pictures. The first few hills though took its toll on Nix and Kiko. As usual, my son likes to barrel up the hills and then run out of steam at mid-climb. By the time we hit the ranch gate, Kiko was wondering aloud about heading back. Nix was experiencing shortness of breath and nausea; payback time for all the steaks she ate while on cruise a few days back! </div><br /><br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_h4fdL4eEzoI/Ro46qciHWcI/AAAAAAAAAHc/tHTZSwGauHA/s1600-h/June+11,+2007+031.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5084065530236066242" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_h4fdL4eEzoI/Ro46qciHWcI/AAAAAAAAAHc/tHTZSwGauHA/s320/June+11,+2007+031.jpg" border="0" /></a> Mona in the meantime was showing off her fitness charging up the hills on a borrowed bike. Unfortunately for her she didn't have the right shoes for the clipless pedals which were now painfully digging into her soft soles. When her feet would come off the pedals during a steep climb, she'd have to stop. Of course that's unacceptable for this spinning class instructor, so she would go back down the hill and ride up again! Although she was an ex-member of the David Salon Cycling Team she'd never gone mountain biking before and you could tell she was enjoying herself. Oops. Looks like Robin's going to have to buy a new bike soon.<br /><div></div><object width="425" height="350"> <param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/ZuV1K3bogRE"> </param> <embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/ZuV1K3bogRE" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="425" height="350"> </embed> </object><br /><div>When we finally hit the stream, we took another well-earned rest. I couldn't restrain myself though, I decided to go on and scout the trail up ahead. What I saw wasn't encouraging. A <a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h4fdL4eEzoI/Ro444siHWbI/AAAAAAAAAHU/4H8dcV_poSk/s1600-h/June+11,+2007+034.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5084063576025946546" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h4fdL4eEzoI/Ro444siHWbI/AAAAAAAAAHU/4H8dcV_poSk/s320/June+11,+2007+034.jpg" border="0" /></a>looooong steep climb faced us. I had to fib a bit when I got back to the stream and I told the girls that it looks like the downhill part is nearby (ya right). "uhh, but first we need to push our bikes a bit since the climb's too steep." 15 minutes later, we were still alternately pushing and pedaling up this long hill. I stole a glance at Elena and she didn't look too happy. </div><br /><div></div><br /><div>I kept reassuring them... malapit na... malapit na. See, I can see the trail and it's leveling off! (ya right). To my chagrin, the double track trail we were following began to turn away from the trail that I was pointing at a moment ago. Oh no, what if this trail starts heading uphill again?!? I was worried that the Kiko and the girls were near exhaustion and they couldn't take another climb. Luckily, it started leveling off and as we rounded the curve I saw a familiar group of eucalyptus trees in the distance. Further down we could see the South China Sea! It was like a big load was removed from my shoulders. The trail flattened out and eventually started heading down. It was a classic downhill ride complete w<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_h4fdL4eEzoI/Ro5Jv8iHWfI/AAAAAAAAAH0/Y1TdzJlWw3E/s1600-h/June+11,+2007+037.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5084082117399763442" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_h4fdL4eEzoI/Ro5Jv8iHWfI/AAAAAAAAAH0/Y1TdzJlWw3E/s320/June+11,+2007+037.jpg" border="0" /></a>ith green scenery and soft earth. The trail brought us to a rustic cattle farm where we politely asked an old man for directions. Take a left and you'll end up in Saysain. Turn right and it will lead you down to Montemar and Bagac. The cattle was quite a sight! About a hundred head of cattle blocked our trail. We could see ALL OF THEM staring at us from a distance, with their tails swishing away the flies. As we rode closer, the herd slowly parted to let us through. I could hear strains of the Marlboro theme song playing in my head. </div><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_h4fdL4eEzoI/Ro49ZciHWdI/AAAAAAAAAHk/Gox4gfics_Y/s1600-h/June+11,+2007+036.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5084068536713173458" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_h4fdL4eEzoI/Ro49ZciHWdI/AAAAAAAAAHk/Gox4gfics_Y/s320/June+11,+2007+036.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><div>The payback downhill was worth the sacrifice! Not too steep, but loooong. Through the cogon fields, some cultivated plots and eventually we hit the eucalyptus tree plantation we had been to some weeks back. Within half an hour we were at the most technical part of the downhill. A steep, bumpy road with lots of water damage. Nix took a spill but wasn't hurt too badly. Elena gingerly made it through. Kiko didn't get off his bike at all. I guess there is no substitute for saddle time in teaching you good bike balance. Through out the whole ride, Kiko showed his excellent balance. His weakness though is he doesn't know how to pace himself and he still lacks mastery of his gear shifting. This results in a lot of energy wasted.</div><br /><br /><div>Finally we hit the last stretch of dirt road just before the Montemar subdivision. Just 20 meters from the concrete road, Elena took a spill over loose gravel. Elena could hear Bong exclaim, "Aray!" as she fell. "Ooooo, that's got to hurt!" Poor Elena. Her shin swelled up and you could see the black and blues. Luckily it was just a scratch. Tsk tsk tsk, I hope she doesn't accuse me of wife abuse!</div><br /><br /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5084084136034392578" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_h4fdL4eEzoI/Ro5LlciHWgI/AAAAAAAAAH8/X_v8TJH7Vm4/s320/June+11,+2007+038.jpg" border="0" />The last few kilometers of concrete road took their toll on the novices. Except for Mona, they were exhausted. Although by this time, the rain started to fall cooling us down a bit. It was a triumphant ride nevertheless with the girls wishing for more of those rides in the future!<br /><br /><br /><br /><div></div>Dabohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14769511494922411431noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20935911116714112.post-36902144248673002022007-05-04T23:03:00.000+08:002007-05-09T00:45:55.895+08:00The Killer Loop Trail<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_h4fdL4eEzoI/RjtWdpETRFI/AAAAAAAAAFc/IqJVw621T-0/s1600-h/bagac+april+2007+006.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5060733673520972882" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_h4fdL4eEzoI/RjtWdpETRFI/AAAAAAAAAFc/IqJVw621T-0/s400/bagac+april+2007+006.jpg" border="0" /></a><br />To celebrate his birthday, Robin arranged another trip to <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Bagac</span>, Bataan. This time with Bong, Nix, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">Poch</span> and Doris. Of course Mona, Elena and the kids were around too. Note that we avoid calling this place <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">Montemar</span>... the dreaded "M" word... he he he, that should be subject of another blog about Uncle Charlie.<br /><br />The plan was to finally complete the Bonanza ride from <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">Bgy</span>. San Antonio to <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">Saysain</span>, reportedly a 4 hour ride. Then the next day, we were to ride around the Orion area with our guide, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">Eboy</span>, who I found via the net. Unfortunately, after just 20 minutes into our ride along the Bonanza trail, my bike suddenly <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">seized</span> and my crank refused to turn. I thought it was just a kink in the chain but unfortunately it was more serious than that. My bottom bracket was loose and the only way to tighten it was with a special tool that nobody likes to lug around. Robin tried turning it with his fingers and ended up cutting himself. We managed to tighten it somewhat but we decided it was prudent to head back and abort the ride. <a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_h4fdL4eEzoI/RjteCpETRGI/AAAAAAAAAFk/y5KhhwmX5ac/s1600-h/bagac+april+2007+002.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5060742005757527138" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_h4fdL4eEzoI/RjteCpETRGI/AAAAAAAAAFk/y5KhhwmX5ac/s320/bagac+april+2007+002.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Next day I borrowed <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">Nix's</span> bike and we all met <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">Eboy</span> at the Total station in <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9">Pilar</span>. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10">Eboy</span> is a hardcore outdoors man. An <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11">Amci</span> veteran, he has climbed almost all the major mountains around. Since he got married though, he's had to tone it down by doing shorter trips using his <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12">mtb</span>. "Shorter" trips of course is subjective. He talked about this many forays in the jungles of <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13">Mariveles</span>,exploring old <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14">guerrilla</span> trails and finding paths across the Bataan peninsula. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15">Eboy</span> started a group called the Bataan <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16">Trailriders</span>.He tells of times when he and his wife Joyce would find themselves trying to head back from the trail beyond 7pm. In fact most of the trails in the area are <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17">Eboy</span> discoveries. I somewhat liken him to explorers like Magellan or Columbus... always finding and mapping out new adventures for the sheer pleasure of it. In fact, the website I visited mentioned package rates for <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_18">Eboy's</span> tours but after talking to him on the phone and inquiring, he said he'd do it for free since he was riding that weekend anyway. It was as if he was reluctant to charge for something that was obviously a source of joy and passion.<br /><br /><br /><div>With us that day, was <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_19">Nestea</span> (as in the drink), a music tutor and a member of Bataan <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_20">Trailriders</span>. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_21">Eboy</span> apologized that the first hour or so would have to be "scripted" somewhat since we had people from the Bataan tourist office who wanted to take pictures to promote the area as a destination. We took the main road to the waterfalls near <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_22">Liyang</span>. After a 15 min hike down a steep hill, we came upon the short but impressive falls. It has a beautiful pool only slightly marred by plastic trash thrown by the locals. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_23">Eboy</span> groaned in frustration as he narrated the clean up drive they had in the area recently. "Obviously, we need to be more than just janitors and educate the locals about this gift that they have," he remarked. After a few photo ops we headed back up the path with the tourist office guys, but not before seeing one of them throw his empty water bottle carelessly on the ground! Looks like it'll take more than just a lecture to educate those guys!<br /><br />After a few <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_24">kms</span> of paved road, we hit the trail head. A graded road full of loose gravel. The first climb was a killer (hence the name killer loop?) as we struggled to get traction from our rear wheels. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_25">Poch</span> demonstrated his new found fitness by getting to the top first, Robin was close behind and then me, Bong and our sweeper <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_26">Nestea</span>. Before that hill, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_27">Eboy</span> was cagey about where he was taking us. He said we had many options like Killer Loop, Killer Loop Junior etc. I guess after seeing us tackle the hill, he was more definite about taking us on Killer Loop. The name is daunting and for good reason. It took us more than 8 hours that day to finish the trail although it included the rests plus the photo shoot side trip to the falls. But I'm getting ahead of myself.</div><br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h4fdL4eEzoI/Rjte8ZETRHI/AAAAAAAAAFs/RIYdUKx3qNY/s1600-h/bagac+april+2007+012.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5060742997894972530" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h4fdL4eEzoI/Rjte8ZETRHI/AAAAAAAAAFs/RIYdUKx3qNY/s320/bagac+april+2007+012.jpg" border="0" /></a> Near the top of the hill was a beautiful rest house with a windmill. It had a breathtaking view of Mt. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_28">Samat</span> and a steady wind. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_29">Eboy</span> explained that the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_30">guerilla</span> trails that these roads followed were well-worn and wide probably to accommodate small artillery pieces designed to take potshots at the troops in the low lands. Later on the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_31">Japs</span> probably used them to flank the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_32">USAFFE</span> troops making a last stand on Mt. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_33">Samat</span> 65 years ago. Seems like the same war story everywhere. Invaders in overwhelming numbers storm a handful of heroic, well-entrenched defenders. In the end, a <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_34">traitorous</span> local gives away the secret path that finally dislodges the defending patriots. "300" the movie? No! THIS IS <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_35">BATAAAAAAN</span>! (You're supposed to yell that while kicking the hapless courier into a bottomless pit.)<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_h4fdL4eEzoI/RjtgspETRII/AAAAAAAAAF0/UANogezItUk/s1600-h/bagac+april+2007+015.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5060744926335288450" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_h4fdL4eEzoI/RjtgspETRII/AAAAAAAAAF0/UANogezItUk/s320/bagac+april+2007+015.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><div>A few minutes later we were among the trees which was something quite unexpected. I've seen the deforestation of Bataan first hand when we did the Bonanza trail a few weeks ago, so seeing those lovely trees was just special. In some places the trail got quite deep in some places that it was like biking through a small canyon. The canopy didn't last long though as we hit the open trail <a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h4fdL4eEzoI/RkCn2JETRQI/AAAAAAAAAG0/zHxxQz2Znro/s1600-h/bagac+april+2007+026.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5062230529753171202" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 191px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 243px" height="226" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h4fdL4eEzoI/RkCn2JETRQI/AAAAAAAAAG0/zHxxQz2Znro/s200/bagac+april+2007+026.jpg" width="176" border="0" /></a>again and labored up some of the toughest climbs that day. We rested midway up the last climb under a giant <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_36">balete</span> tree. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_37">Eboy's</span> trail rides are planned well. He times his rest stops in cool, shady areas where the wind blows steadily. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_38">Parang</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_39">aircon</span>! And believe me, there are shady areas where the humidity can still kill you. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_40">Eboy</span> and <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_41">Nestea</span> taught us a neat trick. While doing a slow steady climb, it'll help cool you off by taking off your helmet and just strapping it onto your backpack. Just don't forget to put it back on though once the downhill begins.</div><br /><br /><br /><br /><div></div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5060750900634797218" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h4fdL4eEzoI/RjtmIZETRKI/AAAAAAAAAGE/6W92AeahPJg/s320/bagac+april+2007+025.jpg" border="0" />Finally most of the climbing ended and we entered a lush canopied area that looked a bit like the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_42">Makiling</span> rain forest. It was so cool (l<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_h4fdL4eEzoI/RjtoDpETRMI/AAAAAAAAAGU/L8oIATzeeck/s1600-h/bagac+april+2007+018.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5060753018053674178" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_h4fdL4eEzoI/RjtoDpETRMI/AAAAAAAAAGU/L8oIATzeeck/s200/bagac+april+2007+018.jpg" border="0" /></a><span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_43">iterally</span>) we almost fell asleep while resting. The trail in this area looked more like a road big enough for a 4x4. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_44">Eboy</span> gets asked a lot if he could guide motocross bikers and 4x4 enthusiasts through this trail but he gives the cold shoulder. We'd hate to see such a great trail torn up by <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_45">knobbies</span> from an ATV.<br /><br /><br /><br /><div></div>Through out most of the ride we could see the cross of Mt. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_46">Samat</span> to our left as we slowly made our way around it. We weren't actually on the slopes of <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_47">Samat</span> but on <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_48">Mariveles</span> mountain. Which is really an extinct volcano with numerous peaks. By this time, the noon time sun was beating hard on our heads (especially my naked <a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h4fdL4eEzoI/RjtoDZETRLI/AAAAAAAAAGM/CA0WYh4N8Os/s1600-h/bagac+april+2007+017.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5060753013758706866" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h4fdL4eEzoI/RjtoDZETRLI/AAAAAAAAAGM/CA0WYh4N8Os/s200/bagac+april+2007+017.jpg" border="0" /></a>head) but the wind kept us cool. Our water supply however was next to exhausted. I regretted not buying a spare bottle of <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_49">gatorade</span> at the station! <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_50">Poch</span> was especially worried. He drank like a fish and <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_51">sweat </span>it all off almost instantly. "Is there a water source up there?" he anxiously asked <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_52">Nestea</span>. "Yup. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_53">Meron</span>." "<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_54">Ano</span>, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_55">tindahan</span>?" "<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_56">Walang</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_57">tindahan</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_58">doon</span>," <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_59">Nestea</span> answered with a chuckle. In fact, that was one of the many extraordinary things about this trail. After just 20 minutes into it, we didn't see a single soul except for a solitary farmer somewhere near the start.<br /><br /><br /><br />Luckily we soon hit the water source. It was a brook that crossed the trail. The water was clean, clear and refreshingly cold. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_60">Eboy</span> laid out a leaf where we could lay down our bottles to scoop up the water. I could see <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_61">Poch</span> was a bit worried about drinking from it but thirst got the better of him. Bong had nursed his 2 liters throughout the ride and decided not to risk an upset stomach with the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_62">Subic</span> Triathlon just days away.<br /><br /><br /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5060758902158869714" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_h4fdL4eEzoI/RjttaJETRNI/AAAAAAAAAGc/gT41RM6rWSo/s320/bagac+april+2007+033.jpg" border="0" /><br />Near the top of the trail we stopped to enjoy the 360 degree view of <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_63">Mariveles</span>,<br /><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/45pNFVKGl7o" width="425" height="350" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent"></embed><br /><br /><br />Manila Bay, Mt. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_64">Samat</span>, Mt. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_65">Natib</span>, and the South China Sea. Soon after that we hit the downhills. I think <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_66">Eboy</span> calls this the Killer Loop trail because you can get killed on the way down. It was WILD. I'd say the scariest downhill I've been on so far. It was steeper, longer and faster than <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_67">Makiling</span>. It started with a slow extremely steep descent (much like Cali). <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_68">Poch</span> almost did an <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_69">endo</span> as he struggled to stop his bike. As his rear wheel went up, we could almost hear the sportscaster doing the commentary..."Will he make it?....will he make it?.... he made it!"<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5060758936518608114" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_h4fdL4eEzoI/RjttcJETRPI/AAAAAAAAAGs/2PafIztkvko/s320/bagac+april+2007+039.jpg" border="0" /><br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h4fdL4eEzoI/Rjte8ZETRHI/AAAAAAAAAFs/RIYdUKx3qNY/s1600-h/bagac+april+2007+012.jpg"></a><br /><br /><br />I think what made the downhill scary and difficult were the numerous unexpected dips and drops. "Stay on the right side of the trail, cause there's a bit of a drop on the left," warned <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_70">Eboy</span>. What an understatement! It was more like a cliff and I didn't dare look at it for fear of steering into it. At one point I did lose control and fell, luckily this was after the cliff. Although I didn't get any injuries, my adrenaline levels were so high my muscles started cramping up causing extreme pain. I was gasping for breath and decided to ride on through the pain. Luckily for Nix there was no damage to her bike although earlier, her shifters had given up on me and I was stuck on my granny gear, which was acceptable given the terrain.<br /><br />Moments later I hit a severe dip and rise that caused my bike to violently buck up from under me. I didn't fall but again the cramps hit me so badly I laid down on the ground grimacing in pain. I heard Robin's worried remark, "O Dave, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_71">ano</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_72">nangyari</span>?!" "Cramps! <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_73">Arrgghh</span>!".<br /><br />Luckily I got past that. Since we had a little more time, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_74">Eboy</span> led us down "Joyce Trail" the loop he does with his wife when he wants a short training session. A single track joy ride is what it was. Less scary than the previous downhill but just as fast. Near the end of the ride we had a series of bad breaks. Although it gave a lot of comedy relief. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_75">Poch</span> hit a thick patch of old cut bamboos that had been laid across the trail. As he went over, it closed on him like a <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_76">venus</span> flytrap and he got entangled in it. He was incredulous having seen <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_77">Eboy</span> just ride through the patch without incident.<br /><br />Soon after we had to stop as Robin, and then <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_78">Eboy</span> got flats. As <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_79">Eboy</span> fixed his flat, a group of boys started to gather around and gawk at us. They were the first souls we'd seen on the trail over the last 6 hours. I made a mental note never to buy hydraulic brakes after one of the kids pressed on <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_80">Eboy's</span> brake lever while he had his tire out causing his brakes to close. He decided to finish the ride with this rear brakes constantly gripping, albeit lightly, his disk rotors. A few minutes later, while riding the last kilometer of highway before the finish, Robin got his 2<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_81">nd</span> flat running over a broken bottle.<br /><br />Whew! After 8 fulfilling hours, we were back at the Total Gas Station in <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_82">Pilar</span> and our ride back to <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_83">Bagac</span> in Bong's Expedition was full of excited chatter recalling the day's fantastic ride around Bataan's Killer Loop!<br /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5060758915043771618" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_h4fdL4eEzoI/Rjtta5ETROI/AAAAAAAAAGk/3No-23FZEAg/s320/bagac+april+2007+024.jpg" border="0" />Dabohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14769511494922411431noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20935911116714112.post-69358507205068565842007-04-25T14:34:00.000+08:002007-04-26T01:11:04.722+08:00Tour of the Fireflies and the Limitations of Age<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h4fdL4eEzoI/Ri-EMZETQ9I/AAAAAAAAAEc/Rd2jabWmxLI/s1600-h/Fireflies+003.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5057406254982579154" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h4fdL4eEzoI/Ri-EMZETQ9I/AAAAAAAAAEc/Rd2jabWmxLI/s400/Fireflies+003.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div>Last April 15, Kiko and I joined the Tour of the Fireflies. This annual event is a massive 5 hour bike ride along the streets of Metro Manila that is held to raise awareness of our deteriorating environment. It's called that way because air pollution has driven away the beautiful firefly from the city. The motto of this event is, "We'll keep doing this ride until the fireflies come back."<br /><br />I could tell Kiko was excited about the ride. He'll take any opportunity to show off his biking skills and knowing Paulo was going to be there, he was all set. I shoved a sandwich into him on the way to Tiendesitas to make sure he was fully fueled. It's funny the way I worded that, but that's exactly the way Kiko treats food... like a necessary chore. He wolfs down his food without a trace of enjoyment. I think he eats faster than it takes to load gas in my car.<br /><br />We were well prepared for a hot, long ride. Bananas, Cliff Bar (like a Powerbar) and 2 liters of water each on our backpacks. Nix and Paulo joined us at Tiendesitas for the mass start. Bong was still in Iba, Zambales after his first Olympic distance triathlon held the day before.<embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/CacZoNBMx5Y" width="425" height="350" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent"></embed>"Massive" is the correct word to describe this ride. I'm not sure of the official estimates but I'd say there were more than 3,000 people that Sunday including 120 members of a Pasay bike club all dressed identically in blue jersey an<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_h4fdL4eEzoI/Ri-GSpETQ-I/AAAAAAAAAEk/EEqidiO-CSs/s1600-h/Fireflies+004.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5057408561380017122" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_h4fdL4eEzoI/Ri-GSpETQ-I/AAAAAAAAAEk/EEqidiO-CSs/s320/Fireflies+004.jpg" border="0" /></a>d helmet. It was really quite a site seeing thousands of riders of all ages, shapes and genders (some in costume) crawling along C5 at 10kph. It was actually scary trying to keep our balance as the throng slowed down along the narrow stretches and curves. The bikers were so close together that at one point Kiko's handlebars snagged onto mine and we had a few hairy moments keeping our balance while entangling ourselves. After Kiko extricated himself from that and seeing him weave through traffic, I realize that biking is undeniably my son's strength. There's a lot of pride in that statement... sniff sniff.<br /><br />From C5, the ride went through Fort Bonifacio, then into McKinley, and then Ayala Ave. Meanwhile, I saw a few people getting flats, some others taking a spill... I think it took us close to an hour to hit the Ayala triangle... one of the designated stops. We blocked traffic along Makati Ave. and the motorists were furious! We just gave them this "Asa ka pa!" look. Once a year... just once a year.... bikers rule this city! You could see th<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_h4fdL4eEzoI/Ri-GTpETRBI/AAAAAAAAAE8/TOygsKgTGYI/s1600-h/Fireflies+019.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5057408578559886354" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_h4fdL4eEzoI/Ri-GTpETRBI/AAAAAAAAAE8/TOygsKgTGYI/s320/Fireflies+019.jpg" border="0" /></a>e marshalls really sticking their bikes in front of these angry taxi drivers... ready to fight for this once a year privilege. There were a few motorists who really didn't give a damn and they pushed their cars and trucks through the line regardless of who was in front. Nix had to stop for one of these bastards in the intersection but little Paulo didn't stop at all, and a van almost hit him. Nix was furious! She cussed at the driver but instead a confused pedestrian answered her back, "Sino'ng tinatawag mo'ng gago!?!" thinking Nix had addressed her. Close call!<br /><br />I could see that Paulo was slowly tiring. I pushed him up the hill going into the Fort and by the time we hit Buendia, Nix and Paulo were several minutes behind Kiko and I. When we got to Roxas Blvd I couldn't spot them anymore. It turns out Paulo had to<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h4fdL4eEzoI/Ri-GTZETRAI/AAAAAAAAAE0/Z7P7jm5lnjw/s1600-h/Fireflies+012.jpg"></a> pee several times and by the time they tried to join the pack, Nix and Paulo were too far behind. Luckily the sweeper van was there to pick up Paulo. We regrouped in front of Malate Church and Nix decided to call it a day. It was a good decision... we were just 15km into a 50km ride and it was getting hot! Kiko gave me this worried look and said, "Uhhh, is it still far Dad?" "Kaya natin to Kiks!" was my standard reply. He was a trooper nonetheless.<object width="425" height="350"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/i2LrIZk2tus"></param><param name="wmode" value="transparent"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/i2LrIZk2tus" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="350"></embed></object><br /><br />We turned right on Padre Burgos, passed the Manila City Hall, the old Metropolitan theater (in a sorry state) and made a right up the Quezon Bridge. Tight squeeze on that bridge! Then down through Quiapo. Poor Kiko, he just went with the flow. I don't think he ever realized the historical significance of the whole area... until we turned into Espana and I pointed out the UST and its hospi<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_h4fdL4eEzoI/Ri-IepETRCI/AAAAAAAAAFE/O3eC4XfpjSA/s1600-h/Fireflies+025.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5057410966561702946" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_h4fdL4eEzoI/Ri-IepETRCI/AAAAAAAAAFE/O3eC4XfpjSA/s200/Fireflies+025.jpg" border="0" /></a>tal. "That's where you were born, son!" His face lit up... "Huh? How come you never told me that Dad?" Sigh. It's the simple things we take for granted that are sometimes important to our kids.<br /><br />By the time we got to the Welcome Rotunda in Quezon City and turned right into E. Rodriguez, the pack began to slow down even more as the road got narrower and it began to get hotter. Along St. Luke's Hospital it was almost unbearable as the surrounding tall building prevented any sort of wind from cooling us down. When the pack would stop, you could see the bikers veer off to a shade on the road side to escape the oppressive sun. Kiko gobbled up half my Cliff bar in less than 3 seconds. Right turn on Gilmore road. "We used to live near here Kiks," I said as I tried to get his mind off the heat and the ride. He had this glazed look but all through out the ride you could see his kick never faltering. When we hit Ortigas I thought we'd go straight on to Tiendesitas but the sadistic organizers felt they had to take us down Santolan first and into Cubao to please the Araneta Center sponsors. So we turned left into Edsa and right into Cubao. I chuckled to myself that it was better that Kiko seemed lost. If he had known how quickly we could have cut short the ride, I think he would have broken away from the pack.<br /><br />We took the mandatory rest in Cubao to listen to the speeches... in the shade of course. As the ride restarted I made the mistake of <a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h4fdL4eEzoI/Ri-IfZETREI/AAAAAAAAAFU/65_UYQUw3Gs/s1600-h/Fireflies+034.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5057410979446604866" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h4fdL4eEzoI/Ri-IfZETREI/AAAAAAAAAFU/65_UYQUw3Gs/s200/Fireflies+034.jpg" border="0" /></a>not filling up my empty hydration unit. There was a 20th avenue water station but it seemed too full of people for me to stop. Back into Santolan and right into Katipunan and I finally decided to stop at the water station in front of White Plains Village. Finally, the welcome relief of cool water!<br /><br />As we approached the home stretch our pace got faster... relieved that the finish line was just 5 minutes away. Time to showboat a bit in celebration. I did a few bunny hops on my bike which brought some laughs and encouragement from my no.1 fan, Kiko. I saw a speed bump (hump) near the end of Temple Drive and I decided I'd show my son the Mother of all Bunny Hops. As I hit the hump I tugged hard on my handle bars and on my cleated shoes to push up the front and rear of the bike. I felt an excruciating pain stab into my lower back and I struggled to keep from falling. I had seriously strained my lower back muscles... again. I thought to myself, is there no end to this back problem? I used to say that I pull my back maybe once a year. No problem. I stay in bed for 2 or 3 days and that was that. Well this was the 2nd time since January of this year. Sheesh. It's embarrassing to admit but I no matter how much I deny it, I'm getting old. <a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_h4fdL4eEzoI/Ri-IfJETRDI/AAAAAAAAAFM/0g0SUHKIM4U/s1600-h/Fireflies+032.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5057410975151637554" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_h4fdL4eEzoI/Ri-IfJETRDI/AAAAAAAAAFM/0g0SUHKIM4U/s200/Fireflies+032.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br />My back was so bad I could hardly keep myself on the saddle let alone pedal the bike. Luckily Tiendesitas was just around the corner. We were greeted by a firetruck spraying us with water. Sarap! But I couldn't stay long under the waters spray with my camera with me. I had a hell of a time trying to put our bikes on the Terrano's roof rack. Luckily, my son has really grown up and his strength has improved significantly. He hoisted the rear and I took the front of the bikes. Whew! That was probably the worst back strain I'd ever experienced and I was bedridden the rest of the day.<br /><br />Recovery from the injury was coming along fine and by Monday afternoon I was walking around (I couldn't even sit up from bed Sunday night). By Tuesday I was back at work and but when Wednesday came I reinjured my back soaping my foot in the shower! Aaargggh! Frustrating! Obviously this injury really needs more than a week of rest and taking it easy. No sudden movements allowed! Sigh! Hopefully I'll be ok by this weekend. We're planning a ride in Bataan again. This time stretching will be part of the agenda.<br /><br />Is it The Limitations of Age or The Age of Limitations?</div>Dabohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14769511494922411431noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20935911116714112.post-69049788054850414132007-04-24T16:04:00.000+08:002007-04-24T20:32:40.700+08:00Caliraya Sports Week Part 3<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_h4fdL4eEzoI/Ri340kJDqjI/AAAAAAAAAEU/otljxNWQbDs/s1600-h/Cali+April+2007+013.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5056971538545486386" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_h4fdL4eEzoI/Ri340kJDqjI/AAAAAAAAAEU/otljxNWQbDs/s400/Cali+April+2007+013.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div>Ok this is the end of this trilogy. I just wanted to write about the "Deaf Trail" in Caliraya. This dirt road starts from the Caliraya cement road and ends about 15km later at a school for the deaf. It's a moderate climb on a mountain bike (I'd call the Reverse Palace Ride a difficult climb) but it can really demoralize you if you're not psyched up to climb it.<br /><br />I've done the climb before (before I tore my ACL) the last time we visited Bong's place in Cali. This time Nix and Elena decided to join us. Nix had tried climbing the trail a few weeks back and she turned back in the middle of the climb when Bong told her, "After the curve, there's another hill." He he he. That did it. I guess if you put it in your head the next curve will be the end of the trail, you'll get psyched out when you discover it ain't over yet.<br /><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/DJ0wDj4s-JU" width="425" height="350" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent"></embed><br />Poor Elena was still struggling to find her rhythm on a mountain bike. I think this was just her 3rd real ride on an MTB. She would sometimes shift gears too early before the start of a hill and other times she would shift late. I'm convinced that a large part of the problem is that she's still not comfortable and therefore she tends to tire easily due to the tension. She complained later that hands and forearms felt really tired from gripping the handlebars so hard.<embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/gEbtWFc2g30" width="425" height="350" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent"></embed>Meanwhile Robin was determined to get a proper workout from the ride... so he went up and ahead of us.... a few minutes later he'd turn around and rocket down the hill.... then up again to pass us.<br /><br />At the end of a particularly hard climb, we had to stop and Bong reassured Nix and Elena that this was the highest point of the climb. Ya right. Highest point?!? Mwa ha ha ha. 3 or 4 more hills later, Elena wasn't laughing anymore. She was out of breath and struggling. The bananas helped a bit. After some coaxing we finally made it to the gate of the school.... he he he, the politically incorrect joke of the moment: Bakit walang doorbell dito?<br /><br />It was a great downhill ride and my KHS full suspension really performed nicely (the last time I was using a hard tail frame). At one point, I almost over-shot one of the steep left turn curves. I applied just enough braking force, locked the rear wheels for a split second, letting my rear wheel skid a bit and then ended the move with a subtle correction. I was a bit anxious on the way back because it was getting dark and I thought Elena wouldn't go down fast enough. She did great though, speeding downhill at a faster-than-expected pace. She said she just had to put more trust in her bike and that it wouldn't fall apart on the way down. By the time we hit the cement road it was dark already but we made our way back (about 4 km of cement road) to the Surf Kamp parking lot safely.<br /><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/HViiL2GaikM" width="425" height="350" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent"></embed><br />All-in-all, a great 4 day vacation. Although I must confess I felt very bad about not being able to properly meditate over the holiness of Holy Week. As if to drive home the point, while on the bangka on our way back to Manila, I realized to my chagrin that I had left my car keys in Bong's house. Luckily I had a spare key. Unluckily, we had to endure the noisy car alarm that went off as I tried to manually override it without my remote. To make matters worse, the traffic was terrible. We missed the 6:30 pm Easter Mass completely. Next year, I'll make an effort to at least hold a Stations of the Cross prayer with the kids. We did that in Anilao a few years ago and it really was a touching experience for us and the kids.</div>Dabohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14769511494922411431noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20935911116714112.post-73190589505829538082007-04-23T17:49:00.000+08:002007-04-24T15:59:22.943+08:00Caliraya Sports Week Part 2Gosh, maintaining a blog is so much work! I'm so way behind my posts that I'm still trying to finish writing about the Caliraya trip last Holy Week. Since then I've got more pics about the Tour of the Fireflies. Oh well, isn't that the story of my life... always playing catch up ball.<br /><br />I thought I'd share this video of me wakeboarding in Caliraya. I was apprehensive because I haven't done this for about a year and it's just been 6 months since my ACL operation. I decided to throw caution to the wind and just give it my all. I had a few good jumps and this is one of them. I still can't do that jump-and-reverse-the-board move yet. But I think I've figured it out already (it'll have to wait till next trip to Cali). I should make the jump toe side first (from the right going to left) hanging on to the ski rope with both hands. When I'm airborn, I can let go of my right hand and hopefully the force will help spin my body. If only I can jump high enough and spin hard enough to land that sucker trick.<br /><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/kNR0bJDkG-s" width="425" height="350" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent"></embed><br />I also noticed thanks to the video that on my usual heel side jump, I'm hanging on to the rope with my right hand, letting go of the left. Bad form, because when I land on the other side of the wake, my body would tend to twist counter clockwise. Hmmm. I wonder if my jump will improve if I hang on with left and let go with my right?Dabohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14769511494922411431noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20935911116714112.post-64770517048484221062007-04-16T21:16:00.000+08:002007-04-16T22:26:57.260+08:00Caliraya Sports Week<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_h4fdL4eEzoI/RiN_dyjWjhI/AAAAAAAAAEE/A-nRBNca0hw/s1600-h/Cali+April+2007+001.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5054023356602813970" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 410px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 312px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" height="267" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_h4fdL4eEzoI/RiN_dyjWjhI/AAAAAAAAAEE/A-nRBNca0hw/s320/Cali+April+2007+001.jpg" width="359" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><div><div>Holy Week this year found us at the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Caliraya</span> lake house of Bong and Nix Arroyo. We made sure we didn't get bored and brought practically everything but the kitchen sink! 2 bikes and a kayak on top of the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">Terrano</span>. I got a bit worried as we drove up the lake... my engine began to get really hot. Luckily the climb wasn't that long and we reached the top before the temp <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">gauge</span> hit red line.</div><br /><br /><div></div><br /><div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5054021823299489266" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h4fdL4eEzoI/RiN-EijWjfI/AAAAAAAAAD0/PAwFPPGIBzM/s320/Cali+April+2007+007.jpg" border="0" />The trail behind the Arroyo property at Lake <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">Caliraya</span> is a great place to bike. Quite technical because the trails are narrow and full of underbrush. Robin and I went through the same trail we did last September. </div><br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h4fdL4eEzoI/RiOBNijWjiI/AAAAAAAAAEM/A6_pQBteUfQ/s1600-h/Cali+April+2007+008.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5054025276453195298" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 318px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 235px" height="271" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h4fdL4eEzoI/RiOBNijWjiI/AAAAAAAAAEM/A6_pQBteUfQ/s320/Cali+April+2007+008.jpg" width="374" border="0" /></a><br /><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div><br /><br />Great views all around and a tough uphill climb on the way back from the end of the trail. </div><div></div><div>My favorite part of the trail is right at the highest point of Bong's property and just before the ride ends. You go down this really steep hill with your rear brakes fully locked. Despite this, gravity continues to pull the bike down so you need to apply the front brake carefully, too much and you do an "<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">endo</span>" (short for end over end). The hill is so steep I'm completely out of and behind my saddle. The two videos on this page will show a successful descent and the other a classic <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">endo</span>. </div><div></div><div></div><br /><div></div><br /><div></div><br /><div></div><br /><div></div><br /><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/joJpabRWoc8" width="425" height="350" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent"></embed></div><br /><br /><br /><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/MzKlF1hz3lw" width="425" height="350" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent"></embed>Dabohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14769511494922411431noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20935911116714112.post-40170759214844719172007-04-12T00:19:00.001+08:002007-04-16T19:44:48.241+08:00Trianna Learns How to Bike<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_h4fdL4eEzoI/RiNhiyjWjeI/AAAAAAAAADs/mPrnWZgwW-E/s1600-h/Trianna+biking+006.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5053990457153326562" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_h4fdL4eEzoI/RiNhiyjWjeI/AAAAAAAAADs/mPrnWZgwW-E/s400/Trianna+biking+006.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_h4fdL4eEzoI/Rh0ONSjWjdI/AAAAAAAAADg/HHyBuULTw6A/s1600-h/Trianna+biking+006.jpg"></a></div><br /><div>There are certain magical times in a child's life that makes a parent feel so good to have witnessed. This is one of them and I'm even more grateful to have my camera ready to record it. This is a true Kodak moment! Although taken with my Sony... ha ha ha...<br /><br />Trianna has been trying to learn how to bike for many months now. Of course she's not really known to be very diligent in practicing. Elena and Liza have been trying to teach her by running along side of her and holding the seat of her bike now and then. Now I realize that what she needed was a pro like me (ehem) to teach her. He he he.<br /><br />I made her try it at the nice smooth basketball court of our village. I held on to her shoulder loosely, often times just pushing her a bit when she got off balance. I taught her that the balance was actually achieved by moving her handle bars a bit toward the direction that she was beginning to fall. In minutes she finally had that "aha!" moment.<br /><br />I'm not sure who had the widest smile, the student or the proud teacher. Of course she had a few inevitable falls. But she obviously learned from them.<br /><br /><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/rjevQue8RIk" width="425" height="350" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent"></embed></div>Dabohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14769511494922411431noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20935911116714112.post-77872763006346700792007-04-01T22:11:00.000+08:002007-04-12T00:57:28.078+08:00Bataan Bonanza Trail<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h4fdL4eEzoI/Rg_FXzaZjzI/AAAAAAAAAC4/lcoJDW8Me1o/s1600-h/Bagac+March+31+2007+003.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5048470720034213682" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h4fdL4eEzoI/Rg_FXzaZjzI/AAAAAAAAAC4/lcoJDW8Me1o/s320/Bagac+March+31+2007+003.jpg" border="0" /></a> <a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_h4fdL4eEzoI/Rg_FYTaZj0I/AAAAAAAAADA/jdZIYRgjGgg/s1600-h/Bagac+March+31+2007+005.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5048470728624148290" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_h4fdL4eEzoI/Rg_FYTaZj0I/AAAAAAAAADA/jdZIYRgjGgg/s320/Bagac+March+31+2007+005.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h4fdL4eEzoI/Rg_FYzaZj1I/AAAAAAAAADI/myT_MU_LaLE/s1600-h/Bagac+March+31+2007+008.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5048470737214082898" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h4fdL4eEzoI/Rg_FYzaZj1I/AAAAAAAAADI/myT_MU_LaLE/s320/Bagac+March+31+2007+008.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><div>Robin, Joel G. and I took a nice ride today going up the slopes of Mt. Mariveles in Bataan. They call this trail Bataan Bonanza (we found it via the Internet).</div><br /><div>From the Mariveles highway turn right toward Mt. Samat on the main highway going to Bagac, Bataan. After 14 kms, in Bgy. San Antonio, there's a cement road on the left. After about a kilometer of cement, the road turns into a double track fire road. Toughest part of the trail is going through a large poultry with the expected stink from chicken excrement and urine.</div><div> </div><div>It's a treeless landscape, with windswept hills, and grazing cattle. Great view of Mt. Mariveles, with its blown-out crater, in front of us and Mt. Natib at our backs. A steady climb in oppressive heat... but the wind keeps it tolerable. </div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/mCaTU0iiHqU" width="425" height="350" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent"></embed><br />Some challenging single track detours that go through a canyon ledge.When we finally hit the forest line, I was too fatigued to go on so we had to turn back. But not before hitting a nice stream at the bottom of a steep descent. The trail looks promising... but that'll have to wait another day. <a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h4fdL4eEzoI/Rg_FZzaZj2I/AAAAAAAAADQ/hHLj6NtZBKA/s1600-h/Bagac+March+31+2007+010.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5048470754393952098" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h4fdL4eEzoI/Rg_FZzaZj2I/AAAAAAAAADQ/hHLj6NtZBKA/s320/Bagac+March+31+2007+010.jpg" border="0" /></a></div><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><div>Great downhill ride through the winding, sandy, fire road. <a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_h4fdL4eEzoI/Rg_JTTaZj3I/AAAAAAAAADY/bJVXhSvyVOI/s1600-h/Bagac+March+31+2007+011.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5048475040771313522" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_h4fdL4eEzoI/Rg_JTTaZj3I/AAAAAAAAADY/bJVXhSvyVOI/s320/Bagac+March+31+2007+011.jpg" border="0" /></a></div>Dabohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14769511494922411431noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20935911116714112.post-25254559139742145322007-03-24T15:27:00.000+08:002007-03-24T21:52:17.900+08:00The Makiling Forest TrailLast March 10, I had the pleasure of riding up the Makiling Forest Trail at the back of UP Los Banos. Poch and I set up early that Saturday to check it out... I had been there many years back (2001?) but I had no idea if the fire road was still in the same shape. Before we left someone told us that the road was already asphalted.<br /><br />Poch and I thought it was worth the risk. My KHS mt. bike was newly assembled with mostly second hand parts so I was really excited to ride it in rougher conditions than AAVillage.<br /><br />Turned o<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_h4fdL4eEzoI/RgTZG7t1pQI/AAAAAAAAACw/KCJ7dQ-9i_0/s1600-h/Photo_031007_002.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5045396195694191874" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_h4fdL4eEzoI/RgTZG7t1pQI/AAAAAAAAACw/KCJ7dQ-9i_0/s320/Photo_031007_002.jpg" border="0" /></a>ut to be a great ride... the fire road was almost exactly as I remembered it. A 1 hour climb on a mountain fire road with hard packed rocks as foundation. Great surroundings... many old trees which helped cool the climate. My rear derailer kept skipping gears. Poch said it's normal due to cable stretching on the newly installed shifters and derailers. I was able to adjust it though with a few twists on the rear derailer knob.<br /><br />The climb was steep but I felt fresh and full of energy. I was well prepared, eating and sleeping enough the night before.<br /><br />I was surprised to see Poch catching his breath and struggling. He had proven his fitness a few weeks ago when he set a fast pace going up the Reverse Palace route. Turns out he was having trouble with the hard packed rocks which caused him to stall a few times. It didn't help that mother nature was calling out to him to do a major dump. We stopped at the sari-sari /bukohan at the midpoint and Poch's face looked pale. He managed to suck it in as we went further up the winding road which was getting rougher the higher we went. After a while we had to carry our bikes up and over fallen trees and bigger rocks. The picture shows Poch doing the "eagle claw" technique.<br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_h4fdL4eEzoI/RgTZGbt1pPI/AAAAAAAAACo/Y9fNJX0HiME/s1600-h/Photo_031007_001.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5045396187104257266" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_h4fdL4eEzoI/RgTZGbt1pPI/AAAAAAAAACo/Y9fNJX0HiME/s320/Photo_031007_001.jpg" border="0" /></a><br />The downhill reward was terrific. Noticed my front brake lever was harder to squeeze than my rear. Later at home, I figured out how to increase the caliper distance with an allen wrench. The downhill was so rough I had to stop to rest my gripping hands. My KHS performed well despite the noisy suspension.<br /><br /><br />The ride was fun but it could be better if only it were longer. It turns out that there's a botanical garden/park very near the trail. That might be a good place to explore next time.Dabohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14769511494922411431noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20935911116714112.post-66400924490679228022007-03-24T13:01:00.000+08:002007-03-24T13:14:40.364+08:00Down to Earth Excuses for Falling<div><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_h4fdL4eEzoI/RgSy5Lt1pNI/AAAAAAAAACY/Ydveine8fBA/s1600-h/IMG_7105.jpe"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5045354178029135058" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_h4fdL4eEzoI/RgSy5Lt1pNI/AAAAAAAAACY/Ydveine8fBA/s320/IMG_7105.jpe" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><div>I need to think of good excuses why I fell 3 x in the first 30 minutes of the ride in Montalban…. He he he. Let me give it a try ……actually the Montalban trip is the first time I’ve ridden my KHS through hardcore single tracks. The previous times were on the road and the fire road at the back of UP Los Banos going up Makiling. It’s also only the 2nd time I’ve ridden with cleats.<br /><br />The first time I fell, it was because I hit an obstacle on the trail and my bike suddenly stopped. Couldn’t remove the cleats on time, and bang… fell on my side. I got up, brushed myself off quickly para hindi halata. Pero sakit sa pride.<br /><br />Within 5 minutes, eto na naman. May pa-akyat but I wisely unclipped my shoes na just in case I needed to stop. And stop I did…. Right on top of a small hill… on the left side was a short drop into a stream. I stuck out my left leg to break my fall but there was no ground for it to step on… ayun…. 8 ft into a stream with the brush stopping my fall. I remember I was so far down that I had a hard time trying to lift my bike up to Alex and Freddie… it had all these vines holding it back… I had a small cut on my knee… very near the scar of my ACL operation…. Honestly, the fear slowed me down after that and I think the fear caused my next fall.<br /><br />Next fall was equally dumb… I was going fast through similar single track with a slight drop on one side of the track…. I thought to myself, “paano kaya kung mahulug ako dyan?!” I got what I asked for… my front wheel went off the side… my bike went down but since my feet weren’t clipped on, I was able to jump off my bike.<br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_h4fdL4eEzoI/RgSzebt1pOI/AAAAAAAAACg/sY8vPeP_c54/s1600-h/IMG_7108.jpe"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5045354817979262178" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_h4fdL4eEzoI/RgSzebt1pOI/AAAAAAAAACg/sY8vPeP_c54/s320/IMG_7108.jpe" border="0" /></a><br />Moral lessons? I guess I’ve been biking too long on road bikes and on old mountain bikes with lower, more aerodynamic profiles. Since this was the first time I’ve owned a bike with an upright stance (great for downhill), I realized that going uphill on that bike causes my front wheel to lose traction and control. Plus the high ground clearance makes it hard to extend a leg onto the ground. The upright stance though, helps a lot in controlling the bike when going downhill.<br /><br />A few more practice rides should get my confidence back on track which I guess is another factor in MTB. Going down those steep hills after that was tough because the tendency is to brake too hard especially in front. This causes a loss of steering control. So my lesson here was to just pump my front brake while going downhill.<br /><br />That was a very challenging ride! </div></div>Dabohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14769511494922411431noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20935911116714112.post-51021085999862267582007-03-24T12:36:00.000+08:002007-03-24T16:05:16.489+08:00Montalban Mountain Biking with Doc Mon<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_h4fdL4eEzoI/RgSv6Lt1pMI/AAAAAAAAACQ/Oq1rRCKhlP4/s1600-h/IMG_7112.jpe"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5045350896674120898" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_h4fdL4eEzoI/RgSv6Lt1pMI/AAAAAAAAACQ/Oq1rRCKhlP4/s400/IMG_7112.jpe" border="0" /></a> Pictures and text by Alex Reyes<br /><br /><div><div><div>It had been almost two months since I last trekked. My KHS mountain bike was beginning to get jealous of my road bike, with me spending precious weekend time on flats and my limited budget on upgrades to the Cannondale.<br />The confirmation text came from Dave, and off we went.<br />We met at the Shell gas station in front of the grotesque Gotesco mall on Commonwealth Ave. Other bikers were meeting there; it's the jumping off point for rides up north. From Shell we had another 30-40 min journey through the Payatas dump area to get to the trailhead at Buffalo Farm.<br />Our group was seven – Doc Mon Belmonte, Dr. Ronnie Mendoza, guide Abul Solomon (who would prove to be a big help later on), Jun, Dave Valdes, and my brother Freddie. Later on, we would be joined by Ericson, another biker very familiar with the terrain.<br />We mounted about 7:30 a.m. The early part of the ride was the highlight. From the dirt road we cut into single tracks, making our way to a mahogany plantation. It was named "Mahogany Trail," and this section was straight out of a "Lord of the Rings"<br />movie set. The trees made sure there was no direct sunlight penetrating the canopy. The entire floor was covered with leaves, so riding down a slight slope, it was as if we were pedaling on a soft mat. Morning mist from a drizzle kept us cool.<br />During the first 15 minutes of the ride, someone from our group had three falls, including an 8 foot drop to the river. A bed of kangkong broke his fall. We had to extricate him by first yanking up his bike and then pulling him up. This guy (hint: his first name starts with D and last name with a V) joked that he was a "very down to earth" kind of guy.<br />After almost an hour of trails, we ended up on a main road, and made our first stop: a sari-sari store at the top of a small town. We met up with Ericson, and from there we re-entered the trail. My memory of this section of the ride is hazy: there were few landmarks to check on our progress. We went up and down several hills. The only landmark I remember is a wooden bridge, of which we all walked (an accident there would have been a 30 foot drop to the riverbed).<br />Throughout the ride, we made several river crossings.<br />On one of them, the bank was steep and required some nerve to negotiate. I came down, but could not control the bike and slipped off the path. My back disc brake wasn’t biting, and I was accelerating quickly. In my panic, I put too much brake on my front tire, and failed to switch more of my weight backward. Result:<br />my bike upended. I jumped off the bike, and my right shoe came off. No injury, but it felt like my KHS had bucked me – payback time for not having ridden it for a long time.<br />In four hours, we only covered 20km, and did the equivalent of 500m of climbs. What made it hard was that it was almost all single track. This was challenging in an enjoyable way; there was even a Rambo moment, when we went through a thicket of bamboo, some with open pointy ends. One wrong move there would have meant a date with a punji stick.<br />The last climb was the hardest. We descended to another river bed. About half the group decided to refresh by splashing themselves with the mountain water, though of course upstream from a guy in skivvies taking his midday bath. I went ahead climbing the hill. They said the sari-sari store to refuel was just beyond the summit of the hill. I walked my bike more than I rode it on this last climb.<br />Even after having our fill of bread, softdrinks, and water at the sari-sari store, Freddie and I<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_h4fdL4eEzoI/RgSrd7t1pJI/AAAAAAAAAB4/frEZvfAPUdA/s1600-h/IMG_7120.jpe"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5045346013296305298" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_h4fdL4eEzoI/RgSrd7t1pJI/AAAAAAAAAB4/frEZvfAPUdA/s400/IMG_7120.jpe" border="0" /></a> opted for the tricycle ride home. We had been trekking for 5 hours already. We both had gone through our water supplies; an 800ml Pop Cola bottle was not enough to quench my thirst.<br />So thanks to Arnel, our tricycle driver, and some plastic rope to tie our bikes to the trike, we got home. The GPS helped; the driver did not know where to pass, and with the aid of the GPS, we took all the right roads.<br />Overall, Montalban is a great ride for medium to advanced riders. Not for the faint of heart thoug.<br />Highly technical drops and climbs. Would I do it<br />again? No hesitation: YES. </div><br /><br /><br /><div></div></div></div>Dabohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14769511494922411431noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20935911116714112.post-67706162642063955442007-02-17T02:12:00.000+08:002007-02-20T21:23:28.682+08:00Mayon and the Butandings<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h4fdL4eEzoI/RdX27VpF44I/AAAAAAAAAAY/h2SN7cOfDGc/s1600-h/butanding+5.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5032199657938609026" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h4fdL4eEzoI/RdX27VpF44I/AAAAAAAAAAY/h2SN7cOfDGc/s320/butanding+5.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><div>Here are excerpts from an article I wrote for <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">PDI</span>, published last quarter of 2006:</div><br /><br /><div>Recently, news that whale sharks have been spotted 15 minutes from <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">Legaspi</span> prompted my family to take a trip to the famed city under the shadow of the imposing <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">Mayon</span>. With the volcano having a mini-eruption, we figured that even if we were unlucky spotting <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">butandings</span>, we could at least catch the breathtaking sight of <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">Mayon</span> spewing lava. We arrived in the late afternoon just in time to view <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">Mayon</span>’s majesty. By nightfall, glowing rocks and trickles of lava could be seen slowly seeping from the volcano’s crater and moving down its perfectly gentle slopes. “Are we sure we’re far enough Dad?” <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">Kiko</span>, my 12 year old son asked with an anxious look on his face. Thankfully, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">Mayon</span>’s show of restiveness was relatively mild this year. </div><br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_h4fdL4eEzoI/RdX4K1pF45I/AAAAAAAAAAg/kUTPMdDMnJ8/s1600-h/Legaspi+Trip+014.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5032201023738209170" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_h4fdL4eEzoI/RdX4K1pF45I/AAAAAAAAAAg/kUTPMdDMnJ8/s320/Legaspi+Trip+014.jpg" border="0" /></a>The next day found us having breakfast in a little thatched hut along the black sand beach of <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">Barangay</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9">Bigaa</span>. The locals had just begun to organize themselves to cope with the expected onrush of tourists. Each boat was required to have a <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10">Butanding</span> Interaction Officer (BIO) to guide and regulate the animal interactions. A few boats were already out searching the waters. The excitement was palpable.<br /><br />The paddle-powered “<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11">sibid</span>-<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12">sibid</span>”is a perfect boat to silently approach the shy <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13">butanding</span> but I was apprehensive knowing it would take hours to cover the area. Even when Joe, our boatman, signaled a sighting I was skeptical. Boatmen though have a way of seeing things that a typical tourist would never see until the last minute. But it seemed the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14">butandings</span> were not surfacing long enough for a chance to swim with them.<br /><br />Just before noon though, that all changed. A jumble of boats gathered around a single spot and shouts of glee were the unmistakable signs that something was up. From about 200 meters I saw the dorsal fin and a tail briefly break surface. Swimmers began jumping in the water. I donned my mask and fins and slipped into the water to where I thought the shark would surface away from all the tourists. Within seconds a juvenile shark not more than 15 feet in length passed slowly a few feet away from me. Its tiny eyes looking<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_h4fdL4eEzoI/RdX4LFpF46I/AAAAAAAAAAo/VvH5n9jBJIw/s1600-h/Legaspi+Trip+007.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5032201028033176482" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_h4fdL4eEzoI/RdX4LFpF46I/AAAAAAAAAAo/VvH5n9jBJIw/s320/Legaspi+Trip+007.jpg" border="0" /></a> straight at me, the shark turned and went back toward the swimmers and boats. Chasing after it, I found myself in the middle of at least 20 swimmers ogling the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15">butanding</span>. I saw my nervous son on a <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16">sibid</span>-<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17">sibid</span> and talked him into the water. When he finally jumped in with me another <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_18">butanding</span> had appeared. It was an adult 20 footer with a heavily scarred dorsal and caudal fin, old wounds unmistakably from an encounter with a boat’s propeller. We christened her “<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_19">Putol</span>” because of her wounds. In the gin-clear water, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_20">Kiko</span> met his first <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_21">butanding</span> and with a gasp he exclaimed, “It’s so B-I-G!” Accompanying the shark were smaller fish called <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_22">remoras</span> that can attach themselves onto sharks with a suction-like feature at the top of their heads.<br /><br /><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_23">Trianna</span>, my 7-year-old daughter, was also in the water being pulled by my wife excitedly toward the smaller shark. The BIO had warned us not to touch the shark or shout out loud when you first see the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_24">butanding</span> because it might get spooked. And true enough my daughter hardly said a word in the water although her eyes were never wider. Later on, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_25">Trianna</span> exclaimed to Elena, “Did you hear me screaming in my head Mom?”<br /><br />We nicknamed the juvenile shark “<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_26">Kulit</span>” because it was the most playful. Once, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_27">Kulit</span> went by the shoreline not more than 10 meters from the beach. Another time, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_28">Kulit</span> went under the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_29">sibid</span>-<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_30">sibid</span>, gently nudged it and slowly lifted the skiff almost out of the water! My nephew, Andy was swimming in the late afternoon, when he spotted the biggest <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_31">butanding</span> yet. We took turns chasing the female behemoth that must have been over 30 feet in length!<br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_h4fdL4eEzoI/RdX6rlpF47I/AAAAAAAAAA8/BvHYRzH6ORA/s1600-h/270806CONTRI+6.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5032203785402180530" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_h4fdL4eEzoI/RdX6rlpF47I/AAAAAAAAAA8/BvHYRzH6ORA/s320/270806CONTRI+6.jpg" border="0" /></a><br />The next day, the giant female was again spotted, this time with a similar-sized shark tailing it. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_32">Putol</span> was there too. The 3 animals circled slowly in the midst of at least a dozen swimmers, truly an amazing sight. As we reluctantly packed up at the end of the second day, you could see the locals pride in playing host to satisfied visitors. Our hospitable hosts jokingly called us “<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_33">lokal</span>-<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_34">poren</span>” to differentiate us from the foreign tourists already making their way to <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_35">Legaspi</span>.<br /><br />If you’re planning a trip to see the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_36">butandings</span> of <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_37">Legaspi</span>, make sure you bring a <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_38">lifejacket</span>, swimming goggles or mask and a pair of fins. In the water, the sandy floor slopes down steeply just meters from the shore so be prepared to jump into clear waters without seeing the bottom. Most boats are not motorized (thankfully. Nobody wants to be hit with a prop like <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_39">Putol</span>) so be prepared to use a paddle. If you are a strong swimmer, you will get to see the sharks longer. If not, you’ll need some luck and a good BIO to place you in the path of these slow swimming creatures. Look for Joe in <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_40">Bgy</span>. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_41">Bigaa</span>. He has the uncanny ability of spotting <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_42">butandings</span> even before they surface.<br /><br />No one yet knows for sure why these animals frequent <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_43">Legaspi</span> and <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_44">Donsol</span>. Are they feeding? Are they mating? Are the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_45">butandings</span> of <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_46">Legaspi</span> the same individuals as those in <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_47">Donsol</span>? These are exciting questions that researchers need to answer. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_48">Donsol</span>’s whale sharks are plentiful from December to May while those in <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_49">Legaspi</span> seem to congregate from June onwards making whale shark watching a year-round event in the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_50">Bicol</span> region.Dabohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14769511494922411431noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20935911116714112.post-83987846682954152082007-02-17T02:05:00.000+08:002007-02-17T02:11:10.937+08:00Adding Photos<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_h4fdL4eEzoI/RdXzblpF43I/AAAAAAAAAAM/cvA_lzhNjew/s1600-h/2004+pdi+anniv2.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5032195813942879090" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_h4fdL4eEzoI/RdXzblpF43I/AAAAAAAAAAM/cvA_lzhNjew/s320/2004+pdi+anniv2.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div>I noticed that the more exciting blogs have pictures and even video. I wonder when words eventually go out of style? </div><br /><div></div><br /><div>Anyway I chose this photo that sorta represents one side of me...</div>Dabohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14769511494922411431noreply@blogger.com0