The dawn had just broken. The sun began to peek over a sea of clouds.
Panting, huffing and puffing like a dog, I made a sprint to the top to catch
the rising sun, dodging fellow trekkers along the trail who were equally eager
to see the most-awaited moment and the highlight of the trek: the sunrise. It's
going to be magical and dramatic. I was going to play that scene on my head
over and over again.
Once I reached the top, I realized that I was alone. There was no familiar
face on a sea of strangers, save for this one guy who's also part of the group
I was in for this Pulag trek. I started to worry. Who's going to take a photo
of me with the sea of clouds in the background - proof that I have indeed
scaled the summit of Pulag victoriously? I spotted a group of tour guides
huddled on a slope and asked the one with the most genial-looking face. His
friends giggled and teased him as he
fiddled with my camera. The shots were not bad. I thanked him and looked for a
nice spot where I could concentrate. I needed to take it all in.
I thought about that sad, heartbreaking short story I read when I was in
college. It's about a couple who decided to spend a day in Mt. Pulag before
going their separate ways. They reminisced painful memories and they shared
bittersweet reveries. In the end, they parted ways. It's devastating.
The desire to watch the sunrise in Mt. Pulag was fueled by that story. The
author's descriptions on the sea of clouds were simply captivating, I have
since wanted to go hiking in Mt. Pulag. Written by one of my favorite local
writers, Eli Guieb, the story entitled 'Kasal' (Wedding) won first prize in
Carlos Palanca Awards. Even before seeing pictures of Pulag online, I've long
imagined how beautiful it would be to watch the sun rise on top of the mountain
with the one you love by your side.
Friends would ask what my ideal date was and I would nonchalantly say, an
overnight camping in Pulag. The love of my life and I will hold hands while we
trek, smile at each other while we pitch our tent and kiss passionately while
we watch the sun rise.
As you would probably have realized by now, I didn't climb Pulag with the
person I love. But the trek - wait, this is going to be mushy - was born out of
love. It's true what they say that when you love something, you defy the odds
just to get or do the thing you love. And for me - well, in this context - that
simply means braving a 9-hour road trip from Manila to the Ranger's Station,
3-hour trek from the jump-off point to the camp and another one to reach the
summit. Once you're up there, you'll forget how cold it was inside the tent or
how sore your legs were. What you'll remember, probably for the rest of your
life, is how great it feels to be up there.