It took us time and effort – from planning for
the perfect date, the necessary arrangements, budgetary considerations, and the
availability of ourselves, to finally make Mt. Pulag no more a dream. For some
time, we were stuck on those waiting games for the stars to align and make this
long overdue Pulag climb happen.
Months swiftly passed since the planning stage
and the next thing we knew, we were finally climbing those very trails of that
magical moss of a forest garden of floral blooms and green lush of pine trees
across that sea of northern Pulag clouds. The climb per se was an easy feat as
the trails were pretty clear and downright easy to recognize. But the catch –
it’s unseasonably cold, with the subtle brisk of crisp air turning into a brisk
wet wind swirling down on us and the trails, every now and then.
While occasionally gracing ourselves with some
stops along the way to catch some breath, the temperature was further dropping
as well. In between the biting cold, far ahead of us were those towering pines
and woods, merging into the green distance on the slopes as if it goes on
forever. Then the next thing happened; the microclimate spoke of rain showers,
and true enough we had sporadic rain showers. But we continued walking those moderately
slippery terrains hoping to soon reach our destination.
Soon it was time to stop as we set foot to
where we were supposed to stay the night. We reached the designated camp site,
luckily with the sun still up. We were able to take some photos before
celebrating the climb with a sumptuous meal to end the day. In no time, tents
were pinched, dinner’s served and we were more than good to go for the precious
sleep. Soon it was dark, though my clock just read 17:30. And in no time I fell
asleep and found that peace in all the world I badly needed.
