Tongtana (and the Climb from Hell)

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Thirty percent of Sarawak's population belong to various indigenous groups known collectively as 'Orang Asli' (meaning 'Upriver People'). Customs, traditions, spiritual beliefs, language and way of life vary from one group to the next, though there are common threads that connect some (or all) of them to each other in different ways. The people who have traditionally lived a nomadic existence in the vicinity of what is now Gunung Mulu National Park identify themselves as the Penan. Interestingly, while the Penan have words for every kind of animal or plant that occurs within the rainforest, they have no specific word for the forest itself: they refer to it simply as 'Tongtana', which roughly translates as 'the world in which we live'. This makes sense given that traditionally the Penan spent their entire lives here, finding everything they needed for their survival within the forest, without ever having to venture into the world that existed beyond the confines of their jungle home.

Linda and I had been in Gunung Mulu NP for five days, when we set off upriver with our three German colleagues (Rafael, Peter and Florian) and one of the best longboat teams in the business. I say longboat 'team', because in times of low water flow on the Sungai Melinau, each boat driver requires a 'poler' to sit at the front of the longboat, directing the driver to the deepest channels and then springing into action whenever necessary by using one of two pieces of equipment at his disposal: a paddle to help steer the boat through rapids, when the driver may have to tilt his outboard motor to pull the propeller out of the water; and a long pole carved from a tree branch that the driver's assistant uses to push the boat along in water that often times may be as little as ten centimetres deep! When you consider that some of the boats are fitted not with the standard outboard motors that you would find on a leisure boat back home, but with something that more resembles a whipper snipper (in both shape and function) it becomes pretty clear just how indispensable these polers can be – and we had one of the very finest at the head of our boat!

With seven people and at least fifty kilograms of baggage weighing our boat down in the already low waters of the 'dry season', every small rapid that we came to (thankfully for everyone concerned there were no large rapids to be encountered) provided another opportunity for our boat to either run aground or simply run out of momentum... and it was at these moments that our poler would leap into action, hauling the boat forward with perfectly-timed thrusts of his pole or, if that didn't work, leaping into the water himself to drag the boat forward, as the captain likewise stepped out of the boat whilst continuing to maneuvre his outboard motor in the hopes of finding some traction for his propeller! Yet in spite of their herculean efforts – and in keeping with the warnings that we had received from some of the guides that we had spoken to at Park Headquarters before the trip – we also had to jump out and push on at least seven or eight occasions!

But even this couldn't put a dampener on proceedings as far as I was concerned – in fact the hour or so that we spent gliding our way upriver, with nothing but dense rainforest on either side and the occasional limestone pinnacle rising up in the background, was as enjoyable as any hour that we had spent on the holiday so far. If one moment could encapsulate the almost-meditative feeling I had on that boat trip, it would be the minute or so that I spent staring mesmerised at a perfect mirror image of the rainforest reflected in the waters of the river, broken only by the ripples cast from droplets of water falling one by one from the boatman's pole... drip, drip, drip... pure magic!

Eventually though, long after passing the last sign of civilization, and with the morning's bright sunshine having been replaced by gentle afternoon rain, we pulled up on a gravel river bank and were given a nod from the boatman to say 'this is the place'. We had arrived at what the Park maps called Kuala Litut, an otherwise nondescript confluence of rivers that marks the start of the Headhunters Trail: an old route through the jungle that was historically used by raiding parties from one tribe or another on their way to sack a neighbouring settlement, hence the name. While the full Headhunters Trail leads over twenty kilometres through the rainforest to the nearest settlement at Kuala Terikan – from where it is possible to travel by longboat onto another village with road access, thus providing the only ground-based access to or from the National Park – we would only be covering the first nine kilometres of the trail to Camp 5, from where we would attempt to climb to the Pinnacles the next day.

After a somewhat forlorn attempt to change into dry clothes and then keep them dry, we shouldered our backpacks and started out up the trail. With the rainforest canopy acting like a giant natural umbrella – but the air underneath it more like a giant sponge – it was more as a result of the sauna-like humidity than the persistent rain that we ended up soaked to the skin; yet despite this, for those first few kilometres the trail had a similar (if considerably less restful) hypnotic effect on me as the river had done. And then ever so slowly but surely, our shoes started to fill up with water; the ground started turning to mud; and leaches started to appear on our legs, as if out of nowhere... and with these almost imperceptible changes, our moods started to take a turn for the worse! No matter how beautiful the rainforest may be, there is only so much rain, mud, sweat (and bugs!) you can take before you start to get that inescapable feeling of 'okay, enough is enough now'!

So it was with great relief that Linda and I finally emerged from the forest into a clearing beside the Melinau River, to find the various buildings of Camp 5 huddled near the base of Gunung Api (Fire Mountain), with the massive sheer cliffs of Gunung Benarat rising up directly opposite. After dumping our backpacks and hanging up all of our wet clothes and footwear in a futile attempt to get them dry in the extreme humidity, there was time for a cooling dip in the river and a hearty camp dinner, before the serious business of our briefing on the next day's climb to the Pinnacles (which rises 1200m in elevation in just 2.4km of distance) with our guide Nimrod began. But if the briefing was intended as some sort of pep speech (clearly it wasn't) it had exactly the opposite effect: with repeated warnings about how dangerous the climb could be (in the event of someone sustaining an injury and needing assistance, a rescue mission would be hazardous, time-consuming and expensive) and how many times people had failed to return to Camp 5 until well after dark (despite all climbs being required to start no later than 6:30am in an attempt to eliminate this possibility) we were all left with a feeling of dread rather than excitement!

Adding to our collective anxiety levels were the various 'cut-off times' that would be applied to our climb, which went as follows:

section 1) 900m with 350m altitude gain; maximum time: 1 hour.

section 2) 300m with 200m altitude gain; maximum time: 30 minutes

section 3) 800m with 400m altitude gain; maximum time: 1 hour

Failure to reach any of the prescribed 'checkpoints' within the scheduled time frame would mean the offending person would have to abort the climb and return to Camp 5. Complicating this further was the fact that for anyone who had already passed the first checkpoint (the so-called 'Mini Pinnacles') and then been forced to turn around on a later section, someone else would have to also abort their climb, so that noone would be left by themselves beyond the Mini Pinnacles. And then for those that were able to make it to the third checkpoint in time, they would still face the daunting final stretch consisting of no less than eighteen steel ladders bolted into the mountainside:

section 4) 400m with 250m altitude gain; maximum time: 45 minutes

And all of this to reach not the top of the mountain (nor would there be any views along the way, since the entire flank of Gunung Api up which we would be climbing is cloaked in rainforest) but to view some pointy rocks from a slightly-less pointy outcrop, before turning around and re-tracing our footsteps back to Camp 5... which by all accounts would take at least as long, if not longer, than the climb up! I think it's fair to say we all went to bed that night with the same thought running through our heads: 'why on earth did I sign up for this?!?'! With thoughts like this swirling around in my mind – and being a notoriously light sleeper even at the best of times – it was never going to be easy getting to sleep, though this was made even more difficult by the fact that we were located right next to the kitchen, which some of the 'residents' of Camp 5 (there seemed to be a family of caretakers staying there – whether temporarily or permanently I couldn't be sure) deemed it appropriate to use both up until midnight and then again from 4am onwards... seriously!

As the hours rolled on and I tossed and turned furiously, trying desperately to shut out both the noise from the kitchen (the entire building was partially open-air, so sound-proofing was never going to be it's strong point) and the voices in my head telling me that whether Linda or I failed to make it all the way up would be irrelevant, as both of us would have to turn back regardless, my mood plummeted to an all-time low... so much so that when the alarms on our phones started going off at 5:20am the next morning, I simply lay there motionless for ten minutes or more, trying to unravel the multitude of negative thoughts flying around inside my head. When I mentioned to Linda my lack of both sleep and motivation for the day ahead, and she responded by asking me what I wanted to do, I wasn't lying when I said “I honestly don't care – all I want to do is sleep”. Thankfully I then followed by saying that if she wanted to go ahead with the climb – which was far from a given as she had suffered a nasty gash to her leg during her caving trip two days earlier, which was still giving her considerable trouble – then I would be prepared to go along with her, to which she replied that she definitely wanted to give it a go... though as far as I was concerned, I had neither the motivation nor any real interest in reaching the top. But by now the die had been cast, and by 6:25am (Saturday 17^th August) our small band of six was setting out along the trail...

If you were to view an aerial map of the Pinnacles trail, you would surely notice one glaring omission: there are no switchbacks. Immediately we began climbing directly up the mountain's north-western flank toward the summit – a route that continued in an unbroken line for virtually the entire way. To say the climb was gruelling would be a pathetic understatement. It was, by far, the most unrelenting trail either of us have ever attempted. And for some reason that never really became apparent to us, our guide set a frantic pace right from the outset. We must have been going for close to twenty minutes by the time Linda convinced him to stop for the first time so we could take a breather and drink some of our prodigious supply of water. This was another problem we faced: with no water sources along the entire route, we were forced to carry all the water we would need for the day; and with my propensity for sweating – combined with the heat and humidity one would expect in an equatorial rainforest – I had deemed it necessary to start out with five-and-a-half litres worth! As it turned out, I would drink the whole lot before we were done – and would come to wish that I had at least another litre with me, if only I could have carried so much!

With the trail itself consisting entirely of rocks and tree roots, and at a steady gradient of 50% (one metre up for every two metres forward – though it felt even steeper than this) the climb was almost as taxing mentally as it was physically – every step had to be measured, and every foot placement carefully considered, lest we slip and land on one of the sharp rocks that littered the route. Somehow though, after a gut-wrenching slog that had me stripped down to my boxer shorts already (despite the fact that the sun had not yet emerged from behind the mountain) we managed to make it to the Mini Pinnacles by 7:15am: we had managed to knock off the first 350 metres of altitude gain in just 45 minutes, which was a full 15 minutes ahead of our cut-off time! Although neither of us were feeling great (Linda had declared after just fifteen minutes that there way no way she was going to make it to the top!) it was around this time that we both decided – despite the seemingly-overwhelming evidence to the contrary – that we could in fact make it to the top.

Onwards and upwards we trudged, with the age-old motto of 'one foot in front of the other' being replaced by 'one foot above the other', until just twenty minutes later we arrived at the halfway point: again well ahead of our cut-off time. As an added bonus, we were told to leave behind one full bottle of water to retrieve on the way down, which lightened our load considerably (though it also left me with only two litres of water for the second half of the climb and first half of the descent, when I had already consumed two litres to this point). After a ten-minute rest we resumed the climb, by now going at an ever-so-slightly less breakneck pace, while I continued to question just how much water my body could lose in sweat whilst still functioning properly.

Almost three-quarters of the way up we came to a section of trail roughly fifteen metres long that was merely 'undulating' as opposed to 'steeply uphill' – the sense of relief that flooded over me at being able to walk on more or less flat ground was almost overwhelming! It was the first and only section we came across that fit this description. Eventually though we made it to the final 'checkpoint': the first of the eighteen steel ladders that lay between us and the Pinnacles viewpoint. And true to form we had completed the third section in just over forty-five minutes – again well ahead of our cut-off time. By now there was no stopping us, even if progress was frightfully slow; and the ladders allowed us the luxury of being able to take a few precious steps at a time without having to fret over the positioning of our feet, with the potential to slip and hurt ourselves ever-present throughout the rest of the climb. And then shortly after mounting the last of the eighteen ladders, Linda and I heard an excited 'whoop' from above... and just after 9:30am (a full three hours after we had left Camp 5) we emerged from the trees for the first and only time all day atop the small rocky outcrop that serves as the viewpoint for the Pinnacles, and the summit of our climb. And then we slumped down onto the nearest rock and almost passed out.

After peeling off my remaining clothes and laying them over a rock – at which point they were immediately set upon by a ravenous horde of bees and other flying insects – I barely had the energy left to raise a smile and offer Linda a congratulatory kiss (it may have been a high-five, I honestly don't remember) before trying to force down some of the lunch that I had lugged all the way up the mountainside. Only when the three German guys from our group – along with a Dutch couple who had a private guide, and three tough-as-nails Malaysian girls in full muslim dress (ie only their faces exposed) with their guide – had finished taking their celebratory pictures did Linda and I feel adequately energized to stand nearest the drop-off and take in the view that we had expended so much energy to see: the Pinnacles, set within a small depression between us and the main peak of Gunung Api, stood like a miniature forest consisting of pointed spires of limestone up to 45m high, that have been weathered down until they are razor sharp. While they sound impressive, and are indeed unique, the Pinnacles are by no means the most spectacular sight I have seen atop a mountain; but then it had always been my suspicion that this would be the case. Like so many worthwhile pilgrimages, this was always going to be a trek that was more about the journey than the destination: and it proved to be so. The only thing that mattered was that we had made it. Together. Now if we could just get back down the mountain safely I might actually be able to get some f_cking sleep!

Thankfully we did make it back down to Camp 5 safely – it took us just over three-and-a-half hours to do so – at which point I headed straight into the river, still fully clothed, to wash away the lingering combination of sweat, dirt, and general weariness; and by the time I emerged I felt somewhat human again. Even Nimrod (our guide) looked tired – though this was probably a result of his having by now done the trek FOUR TIMES in the past seven days. He stood 1.55m tall (poor choice of words, I know) and by his own admission had been 'very slow today – I'm very tired, you know'... the motto 'size isn't everything' should be tattooed on this guy's forehead!

As luck would have it there were no groups scheduled to climb to the Pinnacles the following day; and with nervous anxiety having been replaced by sheer exhaustion, we were (for the most part) able to get a much better sleep on our second night in camp, before heading off early on the Sunday morning so that the German guys could make it back to civilization in time for their 2pm flight to Miri. Despite the heavy downpours that we had received on both evenings at Camp 5, the trail back to Kuala Litut was slightly less muddy than two days previously; but no doubt because of the bountiful rain the river was running slightly higher and more swiftly – so that we were able to make it the dozen kilometres or so back downstream to Park Headquarters in just over an hour, without having to hop out and push even once! And just as it had on the outward journey, that same feeling of absolute peace and contentment came flooding over me. While Linda would readily nominate her Clearwater Connection caving tour as the highlight of her time in Gunung Mulu NP, for me there was no such stand-alone moment... but if I had to nominate one (or two), it might just have been those longboat rides up and down the beautiful Sungai Melinau.

But for all we had accomplished, our time in Mulu was still not yet up. Though we had originally been booked to fly out on the Tuesday, our flight back to Kuching had subsequently been changed by the airline no less than FIVE TIMES, so that we were now (theoretically at least) due to fly out on the Wednesday instead. And with not one but two free days to fill in, we had decided to throw caution to the wind and tackle another overnight tour – this time the advanced 'Sarawak Chamber' caving tour. I use the inverted commas for reasons that will become apparent later. And so it was that after checking back into the hostel at Park Headquarters; renewing our acquaintances with some of the wonderful National Park guides we had met during our stay; and feasting on the delicious food from the adjacent Mulu Wild Cafe that we had come to know and love; we found ourselves checking back out again the very next morning, to set out with just a Spaniard named Alejandro and our two Malaysian guides (Jonas and Vinencio) on a tour that would take us to the aforementioned Sarawak Chamber: which at over 600m long, 400m wide and 100m high, is billed as the largest enclosed space on Earth! Except that, according to Jonas, we would not actually be allowed to enter the chamber itself, as this would require considerable technical expertise, equipment, and (most crucially) a special permit. 'No matter' we figured, at least we will be able to reach the edge of the chamber, to get a tiny taste of just how enormous this hole in the ground is. How wrong we were!

Beginning our trek to the cave along the same boardwalk we had followed on multiple previous outings, we then turned off onto the same trail through the forest that I had walked (in the opposite direction) on the Paku Valley Loop, before leaving this trail behind and venturing onto the slightly-less defined trail that leads all the way past Camps 1, 3 and 4 (Camp 2 is no longer used, as it has no shelter) to the summit of Gunung Mulu, at 2376m above sea level. Eventually we left even this trail behind to follow an altogether more obscure route through the forest – crossing multiple unbridged streams along the way, with our guides occasionally hacking away at the vegetation with a machete – that ultimately led us (in about two-and-a-half hours of increasingly arduous trekking) to the mouth of Lubang Nasib Bagus (Good Luck Cave), inside of which lies the Sarawak Chamber.

At this point I had no choice but to put on my rubber caving shoes, which like Linda I had picked up at the Gallery gift shop at Park Headquarters for the princely sum of 15 ringgits (about $5.35AUD)... however, unlike Linda, I don't have 'normal person' feet – much less 'normal Malaysian' feet – so that I had to settle for taking the largest size they had in stock: a 43 (about a 10 in US sizing). Unfortunately I am closer to a size 48 (about a 13 in US sizing), so you can probably see the dilemma I faced whenever we had to A) enter a cave B) walk on slippery ground or C) cross an unbridged river... that is, either I could wear my comfortable hiking shoes that no longer retain any grip and are wildly inadequate on anything but solid, reasonably dry ground; or I could wear my new rubber shoes that offer excellent grip in wet, slippery conditions but are excruciatingly tight! Given that the first kilometre or so of our route through the Good Luck Cave would follow an underground river, it seemed I only really had one viable option in this case...

Any discomfort resulting from my too-small shoes soon faded from my mind however, as we donned our helmets, turned on our head torches, and proceeded to walk, wade and even swim through the most beautiful of underground streams, with the walls of the cave soaring fifty metres overhead, despite rarely being more than a couple of metres apart at the base. As we made our way from pool to pool, negotiating rapids of varying sizes between each one – passing countless hand-sized huntsman spiders and the occasional cave cricket, while the ever-present cave swiftlets flew their sorties overhead – I experienced the same sort of blissed-out tranquility that I had on our most recent longboat rides.

Unfortunately the same could not be said for Linda, who was having difficulty blocking out the pain from a toe that she had stubbed badly during her previous caving tour – and then aggravated on our Pinnacles trek – and from which it looked as though she would soon be parting with her toenail. I have to hand it to her though: she is one tough cookie. Aside from the fact that she would have been bored shitless back at Park Headquarters – since she had finished the second of two books she had brought on this holiday back at Camp 5 – she also knew that if she had pulled out of this latest trip it would have to have been cancelled, as policy dictates that there must be at least three paying visitors for any trip to go ahead. Given that Alejandro (a self-confessed spelunking fanatic) had rearranged his lengthy holiday so as to be able to participate in the tour – as it was apparently the only one of it's kind running for the month – it's fair to say we both owed a fair debt of gratitude to this gutsy young lady!

After following the river upstream through the darkness for the best part of forty minutes, we then climbed away from the water and traversed along the side of the cave for another twenty minutes or so, until we arrived at a large, flat, sloping rock that Jonas said was known as 'Japan Camp', after a Japanese caving team had set up a sort of 'base camp' there during a previous expedition. It was also announced that this would be our turnaround point, as the way forward was blocked by gigantic boulders. “So where is the Sarawak Chamber?” we asked. “Oh, I think it's about 300 to 400 metres further, beyond those giant boulders – but I've never been there myself” he replied. “Right, so we came all this way to see the Sarawak Chamber – but we're not actually going to see the Sarawak Chamber?” we enquired. “Yes, I am only licensed to take visitors as far as Japan Camp” was the answer. “But this is the Sarawak Chamber tour!” You can see where this is going...

Slightly disappointed, and just a little bit confused, we lay down in the darkness – which with our head torches turned off was so absolute, I couldn't see my hand even when I was touching my face! Knowing that after making it back out of the cave we still faced a trek to Camp 1 – where we were due to spend the night, before returning to Park Headquarters the next morning – we asked Jonas how long this trek would take us. “About three hours” came his response. We were completely mystified. The man we had spoken to in reception the day before (who had led the same tour many times himself in the past) had told us it would take no more than one hour! “But if it takes three hours to hike from the cave mouth to Camp 1, and it only took us three hours to hike here from Headquarters, why wouldn't we just go back to Headquarters instead?”. “Because in the past when we ran day-trips here, sometimes we would get to the cave and not be able to enter because the water level was too high, so it was decided that we should spend the night at Camp 1 instead, so that we could come back and try again the next morning if this happened”. “Yes, but if it takes the same amount of time to reach the cave from Camp 1 as it does from Headquarters, then it doesn't make any sense to spend the night at Camp 1 (an unmaintained hut) when we could just go back to Headquarters”. “Well, if you want, we could all go back to Headquarters – it's up to you to decide” he assured us.

At this point it was pretty clear that Linda wanted to take the shortest route back to the comfort of the hostel – which was understandable given the state of her toe – but at the same time we had all signed up for an overnight tour, and it didn't seem fair to rob Alejandro of his chance to do just that, especially given that he had rescheduled his holiday around this tour. So Linda selflessly agreed to continue on to Camp 1 for the night, even if meant having to trek for another six hours to make it back to Park Headquarters, instead of three. As we made our way back out of the cave to find that it was now raining – necessitating a prolonged wearing of our rubber caving shoes, which by now were causing Linda as much discomfort as myself – we were all struggling to make sense of the tour's itinerary. What was billed as an 'Advanced caving tour to Sarawak Chamber' was in fact turning out to be an eight-to-nine hour trek through the forest – split over two days – for the chance to undertake a two-hour caving tour that didn't even reach the bloody Sarawak Chamber! Granted, 'Arduous trekking tour to Good Luck Cave' didn't have quite the same ring to it, but at least it would be more accurate.

For the next hour or so we hacked, slashed and stomped our way through the rainforest – except for the five minutes that Alejandro, Linda and I spent waiting to the side, while our two guides tried valiantly to relocate the trail – whilst trying to find some sort of logic to the tour's itinerary. To say that my mood had hit a new all-time low would be an understatement; and Linda was in the same boat. So you can imagine our surprise when suddenly, only about fifty minutes after we had left the cave entrance, we reached a trail junction pointing to Camp 1 and were told by our head guide “Okay, only ten more minutes”. The tidal wave of emotions that ran over me was immediate: relief at knowing the day was almost done; disbelief at how we could possibly be so close to camp already; confusion as to what the hell was going on; and anger at why were told it would take us three hours to complete a trek that now looked as though it would be completed in just one hour! Sure enough, five minutes later we passed through a gap in the trees and there before us stood the basic but solid outline of the Camp 1 shelter.

For the second time in three days I was left speechless. I barely paused long enough to dump my backpack inside before scampering down the steep embankment behind the hut to soothe my weary bones in the steep, fast-flowing river. It took longer to soothe my mind, and I needed a long time to process the events of the day – and the roller-coaster of emotions that had gone with it – before I was able to finally lay back and enjoy the curative powers of the water, flowing effortlessly on down the valley. I'll never understand why we were told it would take so much longer than it actually did to make it to our overnight camp that day, but by the time I hauled myself out of the water it didn't matter any more. Linda could have some overdue relief for her toe; Alejandro could spend a night deep inside the rainforest; our guides could finally relax after successfully getting us into the cave, back out of it, and then safely to our overnight camp; and I would have yet another adventure to look back on in the months and years to come. Isn't that what travel is really all about?

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Photos

Forest of Stone
The Pinnacles, high up on the flanks of Gunung Api

Scenic Journey
Heading upriver on the Sungai Melinau

Heading into uncharted territory... for us at least
With a boatload of Germans for company on the longboat ride

Under the forest canopy
Continuing upriver towards Kuala Litut

The sign says it all
The end of our longboat journey... and start of our 9km trek through the rainforest to Camp 5

Halfway Bridge
Emerging from the forest at a footbridge across the Sungai Melinau

The river runs on...
View from the Halfway Bridge across the Sungai Melinau

Sea of Green
Linda disappearing into the Bornean jungle

A Sight for Sore Eyes
Looking across to the limestone cliffs of Gunung Benarat from Camp 5

The climb begins...
Setting out on the daunting Pinnacles Trail

First checkpoint: the Mini-Pinnacles
350 vertical metres down, 850 vertical metres to go...

Onwards and Upwards
Just past the halfway point on the Pinnacles Trail

Almost there...
Linda negotiating one of the eighteen ladders in the final section of the climb

The Pinnacle of our Achievements
Standing atop the Pinnacles Viewpoint, on the upper slopes of Gunung Api

Happy Trekkers
Linda with the rest of our trekking partners at the Pinnacles Viewpoint

The 'Honeymoon Suite'
Linda inside our mosquito-netted home at Camp 5

Mission Accomplished
Heading back to Headquarters after our successful Pinnacles trek

The next challenge awaits...
Heading out on our Sarawak Chamber overnight tour

Rest Break
The mostly dry riverbed where we took our first break on the way to Good Luck Cave

Through the Heart of the Jungle
Winding our way through the rainforest on the trek to Good Luck Cave

Picturesque Pool
Breaking out into the open for the first time all day beside the Paku River

Good Luck Cave
The imposing entrance to Lubang Nasib Bagus

All Caved Out
Outside Good Luck Cave after following it's underground river to within a few hundred metres of the Sarawak Chamber

Scenic Respite
The perfect pool for skimming stones on the trail to Camp 1

Back into the Forest
Following the trail from Good Luck Cave to Camp 1

Shelter from the Rain(forest)
Arriving at Camp 1, on the lower slopes of Gunung Mulu

Reward for our Efforts
Linda cooling off in the mountain stream below Camp 1

Soothing (Natural) Spa
The perfect antidote to tired muscles

Watching the world glide by...
Making our way up the Sungai Melinau towards the Penan village of Batu Bungan

Scenic Settlement
Nearing Batu Bungan on the Melinau River

Jagged Skyline
View of Gunung Api (1710m) from Batu Bungan

Steering a course through the jungle
Our poleman from an earlier river trip in action

Wildlife of Gunung Mulu
Katydid

Wildlife of Gunung Mulu
Huntsman Spider

Wildlife of Gunung Mulu
Lantern Bug

Wildlife of Gunung Mulu
Unidentified Snake

Wildlife of Gunung Mulu
Rough-sided Frog

Wildlife of Gunung Mulu
Millipede

Wildlife of Gunung Mulu
Skink

Wildlife of Gunung Mulu
Unidentified (but very cool) bug

Tunnel through the Trees
View of the Sungai Melinau from Park Headquarters - take one

Tunnel through the Trees
View of the Sungai Melinau from Park Headquarters - take two