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The Untamed Island of Camiguin
Guest Traveler: Seth Carter
I had best the blend of feelings when I woke up on an early thursday morning. A brush of excitement could be read on my face, as one of my colleagues noticed. A female friend told others that I seemed practically cool with my trekking gears on. They didn't know that I felt butterflies in my gut. In any moment, we would be starting our way on a 65 kilometer walk for the Panaad, around the untamed Island of Camiguin!
I was not really on a typical trekking gear as you might picture it. A pair of cotton camisa (long-sleeves), a lycra shorts underneath a Levi's cut-offs, and a pair of worn-out slippers fit me easy and comfy. I had on a cowboy hat against the sun. Loading a hefty pack on your shoulder and trekking miles long didn't sound good together. I could have forgotten about things if I didn't care to last the 65 kilometers alive.
On the first few miles, everything was fine. It was like a walk in the Central Park. We started on our foot at 4:30 in the morning, at Guinsiliban, a port town facing the Glorious Island of Mindanao. It was one misty morning on a summer, but I stopped myself from fishing out a pair of sweater from my pack. I loved the cool breeze coming from the seas. It lessened my anxiety. The early morning sky bursted with purple and blue in the east.
We paused for minutes at the frontiers of Benoni bays. On the horizon, a pale ray of light begun to clime up, the skies now bluish white. Sprouts of light followed the single ray, and they stretched far out to the clouds. A blur silhoutte of hills now dominated the horizon. A promise of a bright day ahead loomed all over the Mindanao skies. The sun broke the darkness on the land as it slowly transcended from the "underworld." What seemed to be an egg-yoke greeted us 12 young trekkers. For the first time, I had witnessed king of the solar system at its finest!
The next six hours of trailing up and down the paved highway system of Camiguin had much to do with peeking at amazing natural spots. We had passed though Benoni lagoon, the beautiful Mantigue Island, and the ghastly remains of multiple tornado explosions in Hubangon, Mahinog. For the record, seven months back, Camiguin experienced a serious calamity brought about by a series of tornado explosions. The boulder-capped mountains registered the horror people now feared of and prayed not to happen again. We asked a grade-school kid on our way about the past tragedy. He said he lost one school mate, and that strange things started to happen, like, hearing unseen people crying out for help or even seeing a queue of people heading to a church and later on disappeared. The story kinda sent shivers under my skin though I don't really believe in supernatural things.
Lunch came in at a perfect time, or did we? We brought packed lunch and we basked in at a park, near the Cathedral in Mambajao. Several bunch of hikers also enjoyed fresh breeze under the crown canopy. Some people took time dozing off, others massaging their tired feet. One member of my team did ask me to massage her exhausted feet. Thankfully, my feet carried me with still adroitness.
The second part of our feat grew laborious. Our female counterparts started grumbling about their aching feet and the terrible heat under the sun. Some guys suffered blisters on their feet. It was not a good idea to wear sneakers on a trek like this. Though nobody complained about getting thirsty. One cannot go with a dry throat in this part of the world. You can find a clean water station every five kilometers along the way. Buy this: their water is as clear and as safe as the bottled water in the city!
One of the most awaited part to meet us on the way was the White Island. No, we did not sail to that island. For a quarter of an hour we rested on the Mambajao shores facing the White Island. This island is endowed with the nothing but pure white sand. Yep, there's nothing on it except astonishing beauty and awesome pleasure. According to Camiguingnons, this island is a crescent lip of an active under-sea-water volcano. Pretty fantastic!
While trudging on an uphill road, a vast open space revealed heavenly scene I had never seen in entire life. Everyday, I could only see the sun above my head. But now, the sun, seeming larger than at the mid-day, was once again sitting at the horizon. Only this time, it was not going up. It was on its way down, back to the "underworld." What seemed to be a giant egg-yoke started to climb down slowly. Visayan Islands, probably Chocolate Hills, now dominated the horizon. Gradually the horizon swallowed the sun. Rays of light begun to stretch far out to the clouds. The sky was a kaleidoscope of colors. By and by, the sun went down. Now the "underworld" took the sun captive. And darkness crawled to the land. Sparks of dying lights totally disappeared, leaving behind silent, miserable seas. A pang
of sadness suddenly creeped all over me. I was sad, for half the day, the sun was there to shine and give life to creatures wherever it passed. It was there to guide us, the trekkers, on our way. And it was there to give us a perfect view of wonderful mother nature. But I thought, on side, I should be thankful. The sun, the mighty king of the solar system, will always be here for us. As I stared at the purple horizon, I saw a promise of another wonderful day ahead of us.
The next day, I had the best mixture of body pains when I woke up on an early Holy Friday. A brush of exhaustion could be read on my face, as noticed by an exhausted colleague. A female friend complimented that I practically looked like a battered doughboy under my dirty trekker's gear. They didn't that I was having a bad stomach, and that I needed to go to a bath room. In any moment, we would be starting BACK on our track for the remaining few kilometers to complete the 65 kilometer trek for the Panaad, in the indeed untamed Island of Camiguin!
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