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Published: August 9th 2007
Playing Cards
Mark travelled across the world for THIS?!Mark's here. One night in Kuala Lumpur and the adventure in Malaysian Borneo has begun, with our plane landing in the small but sweaty city of Kota Kinabalu. We celebrate being together on the other side of the world, but soon find ourselves sucked into a vortex of bad luck: Mark's bank card gets swallowed by an ATM; the internet connection for the city fizzles out while making plane reservations; my credit card gets blocked and the last two purchases are listed as FRAUD. We stall out in our first 2 days in Sabah, and find ourselves taking our frustration out on cheap buckets of Tiger Beer and making fun of the nightly live music. By day 3 all hope seems to be lost in accomplishing anything on this trip when we finally get a break. Three spots have opened up for the hike to the summit of Mount Kinabalu.
Kinabalu is Southeast Asia's tallest mountain, rising to an impressive 4,096 m (13,000 ft). It is Malaysia's first UNESCO World Heritage Site, and now towers over a massive National Park that is home to a diverse and unique collection of plants and animals. Because it is so tall, the top
Shopping For Supplies
Crazy body parts could be very useful on the mountain. third of the mountain is relatively inhospitable, and it's bare rock is a stark contrast to the thick ring of forest below it. It's sort of like a balding man with a mismatched toupee of white clouds. It's dark silhouette shocked us as we approached by night bus under a moonlit sky. We were going to the top of THAT? All 3 of us stared quietly slack-jawed as the bus pulled over to the side of the road and dumped us off at Park Headquarters. We paid our fees, made the walk over to the dormitory, and nervously chatted to each other, happy for the darkness and distraction that hid the impending doom which waited for us out of sight and out of mind.
Our insecurity woke us up early the next day, and Mark and I stood outside standing and staring at the mountain while Suz cleaned up. We tried to pretend like it was any other day, but the threatening looks from the mountain kept reminding us otherwise. It was a clear morning and the top seemed so far away, like a backdrop that you posed in front of, but couldn't actually come close to. It was....sheer
Mount Kinabalu
My legs hurt just looking at it.... rock! Could we really just mosey on up to the top in 24 hours? Don't we need specialized equipment? Or at least some sort of planned expedition with donkeys and shirpas? Was it really so easy that 120 people climbed it every single day? Full of uncertainty, we marched back to HQ to eat breakfast, store our cumbersome travel packs, and arrange for a guide to help us make the 6 km ascent that was in store for us on our first leg of the journey.
Our guide's name was Willfred. Kind of a wussy name, but we didn't dare make fun of it because we already knew that most guides make the 8.6 km climb about 3 times every week. Willfred was a small guy, very young looking with a bowl haircut that made him look almost pre-pubescent. He spoke very little English, and when I asked him if he thought it might rain today, he simply acted disinterested and begun to play with his cellphone. He packed us into a mini-van, where we drove to a checkpoint and were signed in under the badge numbers that were printed on the ID cards which hung from our necks.
Strange Plants
The carnivorous pitcher orchid A metal gate was opened, we walked down a short flight of stairs, and that was it. No turning back now. Onwards and upwards.
At first the climb was easy. We strolled along the path past little picturesque waterfalls and through dense forest, looking for the bug eating pitcher plants that Sabah was famous for. There would be a few sets of steep stairs every 20 yards or so, and while we began to take brief rests, we were still in good spirits and chatting away on the trail. But it wasn't long before the steps got steeper and went on for longer and longer stretches. Now we were stopping every few minutes and bringing out the water bottles to help make up for the soaked backs of our shirts which were trapped beneath our day packs. Our joking attitude was starting to get more serious now, and low moans could be heard at the beginning of each new series of unending steps. Willfred stayed well ahead of us, stopping at the top of each series and patiently waiting for us to move up. He had turned on a small pocket radio, and was killing time playing with the
Clouds Moving In
2/3rds the way up on the first day channels. It was clear now that Willfred wasn't so much a guide, but more of a chaperon to make sure we didn't do anything stupid (like twist an ankle or break a leg).
An hour and a half into it, we stopped at a shelter for lunch. We dove into what we termed our "action snacks": homemade peanut-butter and luxury crackers; dried peas and noodles; a trail mix of M&M's, peanuts, and raisins. Our bottled water was completely gone, and we now were refilling from rainwater cisterns placed along the trail. None of us were really hungry, but the opportunity to sit down and rest our legs was not about to be passed up. Other people at the shelter were in good spirits (especially those coming DOWN the mountain), and it built up our enthusiasm to get back to hiking. With renewed vigor, we signaled to Willfred and set out for the top two-thirds of the day's hike.
The strength we gained from our lunch break lasted all of 5 minutes. The never ending climb continued to take our breath away as we slowly ascended into increasingly thinner air. We were stopping every 5 minutes now, waiting for
Laban Rata
You wouldn't believe how much a beer costs up here our hearts to slow down, before lifting another foot to thigh level to get over the next tall step and start again. The only distraction we had was the ever-beautiful scenery all around us. As we went higher and higher, the plants and trees were changing from thick forest into an exclusive club of moss covered Rhododendrons, then shrinking down to colorful shrubs shrouded in mist. Clouds moved in and out of the trail hiding sections of scenery while revealing others, creating a surreal mystery to our surroundings. The trail was now changing as well, and our large steps were replaced with uneven rocks that were well worn and slick with the moisture of passing clouds. Even if we could move faster we would have had to pay close attention to where we stepped. Twisting an ankle could be a big problem way up here....
The worst part was the psychological aspect of the climb. It was one thing to spend 5 1/2 hours on a stairmaster in an environment where oxygen was becoming less and less available, but to be constantly passed up by older women half your size with 60 lbs STRAPPED TO THEIR FOREHEADS was something
First Light
The day begins for this side of the world else entirely. Here you are, trying to tell your body to ignore the fire in your chest, ignore the ever-increasing burn in your thigh muscles and just get one foot in front of the other, and a porter whisks by carrying 6 cases of Coca-Cola for probably the sixth time that week. All kinds of self-criticizing questions start running through your head. What have I been doing with my life? Why don't I exercise more? Or eat healthier? I know these people do this everyday, but what could I have done to make this EASIER? Why can't I be like them?
The answer of course lies in the fact that I didn't have to get a job where, for 2 dollars a day, I run up and down the tallest mountain in Southeast Asia just so tourists can sip on Guinness and eat potato chips. Despite this, porters are very friendly people, and they say hello and wish you good luck as they nimbly step around you in your struggle up the mountain. Deep down however, you can't help but hate them just a little bit for how easy they make it look.
It was right when thoughts
South Peak
Way above the clouds of turning back began to drift into our heads when Willfred turned to us and said "almost here". Mist and clouds had completely encircled us now, so we had no way of knowing if he was telling the truth or trying to motivate us into stopping our frequent rest-stops. Lo and behold a small metal shack appeared not long after, followed by other basic sleeping quarters. This was Laban Rata, a small town built at 3,200 meters by the Malaysian Corps of Engineers solely for the purpose of housing tourists on their way to the summit. We walked past the smaller shacks to the 3 story main dormitory building, checked-in, bought 3 pots of hot tea and stared at each other in complete exhausted silence.
For another 3 hours hikers continued to file in: families with their teenage kids; tour groups of middle-aged Japanese couples; retired Europeans traveling the world. Rain had developed after we had sat down, and they all filed in like wet dogs. Towards the end a young girl walked in hysterically crying, the never ending hike proving to be much more than she had signed up for. The last to arrive was a small woman
The Summit
Three very happy hikers in her late seventies who wore a large smile across her face from her sense of accomplishment. The fact that she was here proved the hike to be not a physical struggle, but a psychological one.
It was right to bed after a buffet dinner. One would think that the long hike to Laban Rata would have knocked us out, but the anticipation of waking up at 2:30 a.m. for the final climb prevented everyone from sleeping. For many, Laban Rata was enough and they remained in bed as we piled on layer after layer of clothing. Some came downstairs for coffee to wish their friends and family good luck. We had eggs and toast, purchased hats and gloves, and found Willfred bundled up and playing with his radio while smoking with the other guides. Just another day for him. "Ready?" he yawned. We were. Out into the darkness, we switched on our flashlights and started up a wobbly staircase, through an old metal gate that could have led to a haunted house from an episode of "Scooby-Doo."
Our progress was painfully slow. The trail was muddy and wet from the rain, and we had to watch every
step for fear of falling. We had the benefit of a clear sky with the light of a full moon showing us the mountain, and one could see the train of never ending hikers slowly winding up the sheer rock. Halfway up, a long white rope was used to show the way, and it was necessary to use it to pull yourself up over steep and narrow sections. If the hike the day before was bad, this one proved ten times more terrible. It was a strange, lifeless landscape, something like walking on the moon. The air was thin and cold and burned the lungs with every step, our hearts pounding in our ears. The whole caravan trudged on as if it was a death march, some turning back, some simply lying down in exhaustion. Guides huddled behind rocks, escaping the high winds while waiting for their hikers to catch up. For three hours this went on, every sign along the way mocking us by letting us know we had only hiked another half kilometer. The only thing that kept us moving was knowing that we had to make it to the top by 5:30 or risk missing the entire
Mountain Shadow
Blocking out the sun over west Sabah reason we had make this horrible pilgrimage in the first place.
We passed our last sign, only 100 meters left, when strange rays of white light began to appear and disappear over our heads. For a moment we forgot about our suffering and grabbed the the rope one last time to scale the pile of boulders which made up the final climb, Low's Peak. Finding a small plateau at the top we sat, stunned at what was unveiling itself before us. The rays of light were coming from a thin red line on the horizon which was hanging over the dark silhouettes of other mountain peaks miles away. The line continued to grow, widening and beaming brighter, illuminating in detail the infinite view of the entire world to the East......
It was the most beautiful event I have ever seen.
It was like watching the dawn of creation. It was like sitting in nature's observation deck. It was something so incomprehensible, so awe inspiring, that no words could begin to describe it. We were witnessing something that mankind was not designed to be a part of, and I remember my eyes drying out from my inability to
Low's Peak
Suz descends the summit blink at the sight of it. When the sun finally emerged over the curve of the Earth, the light snapped me back to where I was actually sitting, perched on top of a mountain, 5 steps away fro a 10,000 ft. drop into vast, unexplored rain forest in the gully below. It wasn't the only thing below us. Clouds, valleys, other mountains were revealed to us on all sides. In fact there was nothing else taller than us. Only the sun and the moon, which hovered over us like a lighthouse to the shores of space.
We were energized again, taking pictures of everything around us and nervously chatting to each other like giddy school girls. We lingered for 45 minutes or so, but began our descent knowing that what had taken us 2 days to climb had to be done backwards in one day. But it was downhill! The thin air didn't matter anymore, and we got to use a whole new set of muscles that hadn't been worked to the point of exhaustion. We jogged downwards, only pausing to use the rope as we repelled down the steeper slopes. At one point Willfred stopped us and pointed
13,000 ft. marker
looks warm, doesn't it? to the West. The whole landscape was encased by a large, dark triangle. Not understanding what I was looking at, I asked Willfred to explain. "Shadow", he said. "From the mountain."
We reached Laban Rata in no time and helped ourselves to a big buffet breakfast of hot dogs (or sausage, as it's called here), noodles, fried rice, and cold eggs. It didn't matter though, for we had done it! We had climbed the tallest mountain in Southeast Asia and witnessed the sun-rise over the Earth, a sight that we knew had somehow changed our lives. Others around us were just as cheerful, but talking in dread about the descent.
"You know," said one woman, "they say the descent is much worse than that climb."
We looked at each other in disbelief. There was NO WAY the descent could be worse. The was no strain on the lungs and the air was only going to get better, we didn't have to use our tired thigh muscles, and it was all downhill! We wouldn't even have to stop! There was NO WAY it was worse.
We were dead wrong.
Between the time that we grabbed Willfred
Mark and Suz
The map shows the path down, but there is a much easier way..... on our way out the door and the first half of our journey back, we realized that while the descent wasn't physically exhausting, the constant pounding on the knees and ankles by the trail's steep steps took a different kind of toll. The next kilometer had us using both feet on every step. The kilometer after that had us clinging to the hand rails to ease the pain of every impact. We felt 50 years older, our legs and knees locking up every few minutes and threatening to trip us down the mountain path. We reached the bottom practically crawling, wincing at the agony of walking, unable to enjoy the beauty of our surroundings. Instead of being driven by the view from the summit peak, we now continued only to end the whole experience and leave Kinabalu behind us.
After checking back in at the entry gate (to verify that we had indeed survived the experience), we limped our way to the shuttle which would take us back to our backpacks at HQ. On the way, we saw a sign posted on the side of the trail that we hadn't noticed before. It was large, and displayed proudly the
Suz on top of the world.
Happy and ready to go down. names of people who competed in a race that was held every year on Mount Kinabalu. At the top was the name of a young Mexican, followed by the time it had taken him to reach the top of the mountain and come back down again. We cringed as we saw it, staring at each other in disbelief as we crawled inside the shuttle bus.
Our next stop was the Poring Hot Springs, a welcome place to soak our aching muscles and joints while sharing the experience with the others who had been on the climb that same day. The three of us sat in a tub full of sulfurous hot water piped from deep underground and came to the same conclusion about Mt. Kinabalu. It was well worth the hike to the top, but we would never, ever do it again. After adding up our total climbing time, we had hiked 16 hours and 45 minutes over a 26 hour time period from start to finish.
The current record holder's time stands at 2 hours, 41 minutes.
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Matt
non-member comment
the name of that plant
wow guys, i am in complete awe of your adventures! you guys are doing in the right way! for the record, you hiked up one of the most orchid rich habitats in the world. some of the rarest orchids ever live on that mountain. also, those bug eating plants are in the genus nepenthes......the atlanta botanical garden has one of the world's largest ex-situ collections....many of them are growing on our 'mt. kinabalu' area of our tropical high elevation house. by the way james, you are quite a good writer. always fun to read. have fun!.......keep it up.