Monday, December 11, 2006
IN TO A TERRA INCOGNITA
During my early years in mountaineering, I came across this adage that even now keeps me constantly motivated to go out more and get lost in the wilderness. It goes: “there’s a trail out there named after you, go check if they spelled your name right.”
This adage was what popped to mind when I received an invitation from Joel Paysan, the Chairman of BAKIR (Bundok at Kalikasan aking Inspirasyon at Responsibildad), a local environmental/outdoor club based in the capitol of Isabela. It was an invitation for an expedition traversing the Northern Sierra Madre Natural Park (NSMNP), which starts in San Mariano and ends in the coastal town of Palanan, Isabela.
Sierra Madre, or in English, “Mother Mountain,” is the longest mountain range in the country. But only the NSMNP has the distinction of being close to pristine. The largest stretch of old growth forest in the country lies here. It is the country’s most biologically rich area with 359,486 hectares of diverse tropical rain forest, 80 percent of which is land and the remaining 20 percent is coastal area. Established in 1997, the good health of the park’s ecosystem is due to its inaccessibility from the outside. Although strictly protected, a small portion of the park is devoted to communities. Majority of the population in and around the park are workers or descendants of laborers of logging companies operating during the height of the logging industry between the 1960’s and 70’s. Indigenous People, the Agta, comprise a relatively small group.
Agtas are a negrito, forest-dwelling tribe whose main sources of living are hunting, fishing, gathering and shifting cultivation. They are considered to belong to the “poorest of the poor”, suffering from a long history of tyranny, discrimination and marginalization by dominant groups. It was only when the “Indigenous Peoples’ Rights Act” (IPRA) was enacted that the disadvantaged position of these ethnic communities were compensated. This law accorded them an extensive array of rights all over the country, one of which is the right to formal recognition of indigenous communities’ ancestral domains. The law not only empowers the communities involved, but is also favorable to sustainable resource management as Indigenous People is considered to be the best guardians of the forest.
Going back to the expedition, based on accounts of veteran mountaineers from the Sierra Madre Outdoor Club (SMOC), the trail to be used for the said expedition was the route taken by General Emilio Aguinaldo while fleeing his would be abductors during the uprising against American colonialization. For quite sometime now, I have been hearing about this route from SMOC. And I have been craving and waiting for so long to pass by this route, which is part of the nation’s history. But certain matters had to be considered. There’s this new job of mine, financial constraints, climb preparation and the duration of the expedition, which might cause me to get fired from work. But, how can I resist the call of the wild? How can I evade the lure of a “first time?” How can I say no?
So the next thing I knew, I was already packed and on a six-wheeler truck heading to the expedition’s jump-off point.
The Team Leader for the said expedition, in the person of Bishop Sergio Utleg of the Diocese of Ilagan, didn’t waste time and oriented the whole team regarding the expedition while our transport was at a stall and leaning to the right at an angle of around forty five degrees. Apparently, the truck can no longer maneuver because it was deeply lodged in mud and we had to start the trek from that point, which is one kilometer away from a community called Nursery, our supposedly jump-off point.
I was tasked by the Team Leader to be the Trail Master of the expedition and together with my colleagues in the North Wind Outdoor Recreation Club, Inc., comprised the lead pack. As Trail Master, I was in charge of route finding, setting up cairns for the rest of the pack to follow and establishing holding camps. Papa Joel was in charge of bringing up the rear, a task that requires lots of strength and patience. Considering the qualities of a Sweeper, papa Joel was the sensible choice for the expedition. Part of the expedition is Manong Lucio, our lead guide, and four Agtas, Manong Romy and his wife Manang Neneng, Joemar and Ronnie.
Around 8:30 AM of the 17th of August 2006, BAKIR and NWORC commenced the long trek across the Northern Sierra Madre Natural Park. Following an old logging road, the team reached the supposed to be jump-off point thirty minutes later.
According to some folks living in the area, Nursery was called so because this was the area where seedlings were bred by an agency tasked to conduct rehabilitation in the area. It’s a small community with around thirty households and is part of the recently declared Crocodile Sanctuary.
It was drizzling when the whole team resumed the trek. Even with the presence of the slight downpour, the humidity felt like a dog’s breath. Considering that we were taking an old logging road, it was expected that the first day will be searing and probably dehydrating. These conditions may cause leg cramps, which did happen to two members of the expedition. But, then again, these are to be anticipated. These are elements of what we call in mountaineering, “calculated risks.”
By 11:00 AM of that same day, we reached a plateau where a young Agta, Robert Nesta Marley, kept me fascinated with his dreadlocks. Lunch was taken there by the ones in front of the pack, while others took their lunch along the trail. An hour later, the lead was again reunited with the sweeper, signifying the resumption of the trek. The point of respite for the day is at Dimalaklakan River, reached between 2:00 and 3:00PM. For NWORC, Dimalaklakan couldn’t stand by its name; “laklakan” with our guides got underway without much delay.
The resumption of the trek for the second day kicked off just minutes after the hour of seven. From Dimalaklakan, the trail was still wide but gradually got narrower as thick undergrowths increasingly filled our trail. The terrain got steeper every minute, eliciting deep gasps from the team members. Occasional glances forward and up revealed a forest that got closer and closer. Suddenly, we noticed that we have been sucked in by an enormous natural greenhouse. We’ve entered a mystical milieu where millions of blood thirsty leeches insatiably awaited us. They’re creepy but basically harmless. After all, the presence of leeches signify how healthy a mountain is.
From the undergrowths at the trailhead from Dimalaklakan where we seemed giants walking along the forest below, we turned into dwarfs trekking alongside immense trees. Most of the trunks of trees along our route are so wide and somewhat made me stare at them eerily. It reminded me of a movie scene in one of the “Lord of the Ring” installments wherein two Hobbits were being carried by not only talking trees, but also walking. I just wished then that the trees, if they do walk, would be friendly enough and offer us a lift to make our expedition easier and more adventurous. But they didn’t, they just stayed there and made me awed of how beautiful they made this forest with their colossal canopies.
Lunch was taken along the banks of the Dappeg River and by 2:00 PM, Nagsanipan River was reached. Upon arrival, camp was immediately set up and to our delight, our new Agta friends shared with us their four-feet igat catches, perfect combination with Mr. Pedro Domeq.
By 7:00 AM of our third day in the bounds of the NSMNP, the whole team resumed the expedition with an instantaneous ascend, again, through thick vegetations that filters the sun’s rays. The terrain was somewhat mucky brought about by the heavy downpour the night before, which rather made it difficult to trudge higher into the mountain. An hour and a half later, we found ourselves on a peak that offered a limited vista of the mountains we’ve already traversed. From that point, the trek down seemed to be precarious as the terrain is around 60 to 75 degrees of damp and squashy earth. A slight blunder on one’s footing will send one tumbling down the mountain. But for the trained mountaineers, it is just one of those terrains that bring out their knacks. There are even sections of the trail wherein it was no place to lose your balance. Even with my years of experience, I cautiously lowered one foot in front of the other. At around 20 inches wide, the trail seemed more like 6 inches and my feet felt the size of two garbage can lids.
The said precarious trail led us to Dimego River, where we took our lunch, while the rest took theirs at someplace in the mountain. We resumed the trek at around 12:30PM, the river as our trail, then up and down another mountain, river trekking once again, then up and down another mountain again, crossing the wide Dipadian River, scaling an arid waterfalls, ridging and contouring, river trekking once again, until we reached our camp site at around 5:00PM, which is at the banks of the unspoiled Dipadian River. Maila, a member of BAKIR, who was able to catch up with us at the first crossing of the Dipadian River, decided to head back and join her club mates downstream and at the other side of the last mountain we traversed.
That night, the group downstream was bestowed with a Mass celebrated by no other than Bishop Sergio, while our group upstream was spell bounded by the multitude of fireflies frolicking on a tree across the river. We could only wish we were part of that Eucharistic Celebration, but to no avail. We had to resort to the company of Mr. Pedro Domeq yet again.
The following day, BAKIR and NWORC was reunited at around 9:00AM, hence, the resumption of the trek. The trek for that day started with a nippy river crossing, followed by a punishing, laborious and cardio-busting ascend thru almost impenetrable barbed flora waiting to lacerate our skin. Dead beat and whacked from the abrupt ascend, we were rewarded with a trail following the contours of the mountain that vanished when a stream appeared. From there, we had to trek upstream for almost an hour, then popping at another trailhead leading to the highest peak along our route. From the said peak, a significant view of the Pacific Ocean can be seen. As much as we wanted to stay for a while and enjoy the scenery, the presence of menacing leeches kept us going. Farther down, the nice coastal town of Palanan can be seen with its pearly beaches at the east.
Our fourth night was spent at the banks of Guisaden River, which we reached at 1:30PM. Since our group had not taken lunch yet, we cooked right away. We allocated extra food for our Agta friends, considering that they, too, had not eaten yet. It was at this moment that I found out that I had severely damaged my feet. Due to continued drenching in rivers, which made the skin tender, coupled with the wrong choice of socks that created friction against my skin, I suffered from abrasions which led to second degree friction burns in my right sole and at my toes. It couldn’t have come in a more appropriate timing, considering that we still had a day left on our expedition.
The expedition didn’t lack its share of adverse elements. Here, the weather shifts from radiant skies to bright whiteouts in the time it takes for clouds to tumble down off the ridge tops. Around 6 o’clock that night, the single thing I feared, when it was decided by the whole team to camp there, developed. The cumulonimbus cloud I noticed earlier which was heading in our direction, unleashed its wrath. Constant monitoring on our improvised level marker of cairns and an empty water container tied to a rock indicated a considerable rise in the river’s level in just a few minutes. Experience dictated that I inform the expedition organizers of the imminent danger and that we start breaking camp and transfer to an emergency camp across the river, before a flash flood takes its toll. Just in case things got worst, a lifeline was anchored from the other side of the river to aid us in crossing.
After making sure nobody was left behind, Tami and I crossed the river last. The water at that moment was now waist-deep, compared to the knee level when I was setting up the lifeline. All accounted for, Joel and I immediately facilitated makeshift shelters to prevent further problems that may ensue, like hypothermia due to the sustained rain.
One thing truly leads to another. If it hadn’t for the flash flood, we wouldn’t have discovered another characteristic of the forest. For some reasons I couldn’t possibly comprehend, our emergency camp was surrounded with lots of luminous parched leaves. It was totally stunning! It was amazing! God is so great!
To some extent, the following day was a little bit hazy, but it gave a relaxing feeling since this was our last day in the wilderness. At around 7:00AM, we started out following the Guisaden River going to Besag, a barangay of Palanan. The trek was relatively effortless for most of the team members. For me, it was cruel. It was the literal meaning of “the agony of the feet.” The damage on my feet worsened with every step I make. Pressure and sand rubbing on the abrasions on my feet generated an excruciating pain that kept me at a snail’s pace. But, instead of yielding to the pain, I made it my motivation to conclude the expedition and get it over with. After all, pain is just weakness leaving your body and what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger.
At 2:00PM of the 21st of August, 2006, Bishop Sergio Utleg, Joel Paysan, Maila Ibarra, Patricia Uy, Arnold Beltran, Constante Simon, Josie Cabanos, Dr. Jesusa Christina Ancheta, Rafael Jacinto, Tami Fabros, Rico Javier, Dr. April Llaneta, Alexander delos Santos and I, finally reached the end of the expedition, all safe and in good spirit.
After five days of trekking in the quiet confines of the NSMNP, it became apparent to me that we are small creatures in an exceedingly large environment. It’s a peculiar feeling. Mother Nature is vast, and here I appreciated her more. At these grand sceneries, we gawked at rivers that are so dark it blended with the hazy forest. Some, so blue it seemed like a ribbon pulled from the sky. The trek in the park varied from difficult to easy. The difficulty has less to do with the tangible altitude change than with the tough, inconstant terrain and the up and down climbs in its gorges.
You wouldn’t notice it for the blossoming vegetation, but some parts of the park is still healing from past environmental abuses. By the end of the 70’s, this land was deeply scarred by picked clean marketable trees. The fact that most parts of the park appears primordial to the untrained eye is a testament of the resiliency of nature and the stewardship of different agencies, both government and private. Because of this, the abuses of the past are now mantled by new forests and crossed over with trails that lead to natural treasures. The air is filled with the rich scent of green growth and decay. This is terra incognita for people who keep boundaries within themselves.
Like countless matters in the mountaineering world, the expedition reminded me that the most excellent adventure mixes a lot of tangible aspects with some not simply defined. One can pack all the right gears and train until they throw up, but without a little bit of luck and an optimistic mental attitude there’s still a pretty decent chance you’ll come up short. You can’t beat the mountain; all you can do is stack the odds to your advantage. Attitude and a bit of luck are just as important as technical skills and stamina.
This adage was what popped to mind when I received an invitation from Joel Paysan, the Chairman of BAKIR (Bundok at Kalikasan aking Inspirasyon at Responsibildad), a local environmental/outdoor club based in the capitol of Isabela. It was an invitation for an expedition traversing the Northern Sierra Madre Natural Park (NSMNP), which starts in San Mariano and ends in the coastal town of Palanan, Isabela.
Sierra Madre, or in English, “Mother Mountain,” is the longest mountain range in the country. But only the NSMNP has the distinction of being close to pristine. The largest stretch of old growth forest in the country lies here. It is the country’s most biologically rich area with 359,486 hectares of diverse tropical rain forest, 80 percent of which is land and the remaining 20 percent is coastal area. Established in 1997, the good health of the park’s ecosystem is due to its inaccessibility from the outside. Although strictly protected, a small portion of the park is devoted to communities. Majority of the population in and around the park are workers or descendants of laborers of logging companies operating during the height of the logging industry between the 1960’s and 70’s. Indigenous People, the Agta, comprise a relatively small group.
Agtas are a negrito, forest-dwelling tribe whose main sources of living are hunting, fishing, gathering and shifting cultivation. They are considered to belong to the “poorest of the poor”, suffering from a long history of tyranny, discrimination and marginalization by dominant groups. It was only when the “Indigenous Peoples’ Rights Act” (IPRA) was enacted that the disadvantaged position of these ethnic communities were compensated. This law accorded them an extensive array of rights all over the country, one of which is the right to formal recognition of indigenous communities’ ancestral domains. The law not only empowers the communities involved, but is also favorable to sustainable resource management as Indigenous People is considered to be the best guardians of the forest.
Going back to the expedition, based on accounts of veteran mountaineers from the Sierra Madre Outdoor Club (SMOC), the trail to be used for the said expedition was the route taken by General Emilio Aguinaldo while fleeing his would be abductors during the uprising against American colonialization. For quite sometime now, I have been hearing about this route from SMOC. And I have been craving and waiting for so long to pass by this route, which is part of the nation’s history. But certain matters had to be considered. There’s this new job of mine, financial constraints, climb preparation and the duration of the expedition, which might cause me to get fired from work. But, how can I resist the call of the wild? How can I evade the lure of a “first time?” How can I say no?
So the next thing I knew, I was already packed and on a six-wheeler truck heading to the expedition’s jump-off point.
The Team Leader for the said expedition, in the person of Bishop Sergio Utleg of the Diocese of Ilagan, didn’t waste time and oriented the whole team regarding the expedition while our transport was at a stall and leaning to the right at an angle of around forty five degrees. Apparently, the truck can no longer maneuver because it was deeply lodged in mud and we had to start the trek from that point, which is one kilometer away from a community called Nursery, our supposedly jump-off point.
I was tasked by the Team Leader to be the Trail Master of the expedition and together with my colleagues in the North Wind Outdoor Recreation Club, Inc., comprised the lead pack. As Trail Master, I was in charge of route finding, setting up cairns for the rest of the pack to follow and establishing holding camps. Papa Joel was in charge of bringing up the rear, a task that requires lots of strength and patience. Considering the qualities of a Sweeper, papa Joel was the sensible choice for the expedition. Part of the expedition is Manong Lucio, our lead guide, and four Agtas, Manong Romy and his wife Manang Neneng, Joemar and Ronnie.
Around 8:30 AM of the 17th of August 2006, BAKIR and NWORC commenced the long trek across the Northern Sierra Madre Natural Park. Following an old logging road, the team reached the supposed to be jump-off point thirty minutes later.
According to some folks living in the area, Nursery was called so because this was the area where seedlings were bred by an agency tasked to conduct rehabilitation in the area. It’s a small community with around thirty households and is part of the recently declared Crocodile Sanctuary.
It was drizzling when the whole team resumed the trek. Even with the presence of the slight downpour, the humidity felt like a dog’s breath. Considering that we were taking an old logging road, it was expected that the first day will be searing and probably dehydrating. These conditions may cause leg cramps, which did happen to two members of the expedition. But, then again, these are to be anticipated. These are elements of what we call in mountaineering, “calculated risks.”
By 11:00 AM of that same day, we reached a plateau where a young Agta, Robert Nesta Marley, kept me fascinated with his dreadlocks. Lunch was taken there by the ones in front of the pack, while others took their lunch along the trail. An hour later, the lead was again reunited with the sweeper, signifying the resumption of the trek. The point of respite for the day is at Dimalaklakan River, reached between 2:00 and 3:00PM. For NWORC, Dimalaklakan couldn’t stand by its name; “laklakan” with our guides got underway without much delay.
The resumption of the trek for the second day kicked off just minutes after the hour of seven. From Dimalaklakan, the trail was still wide but gradually got narrower as thick undergrowths increasingly filled our trail. The terrain got steeper every minute, eliciting deep gasps from the team members. Occasional glances forward and up revealed a forest that got closer and closer. Suddenly, we noticed that we have been sucked in by an enormous natural greenhouse. We’ve entered a mystical milieu where millions of blood thirsty leeches insatiably awaited us. They’re creepy but basically harmless. After all, the presence of leeches signify how healthy a mountain is.
From the undergrowths at the trailhead from Dimalaklakan where we seemed giants walking along the forest below, we turned into dwarfs trekking alongside immense trees. Most of the trunks of trees along our route are so wide and somewhat made me stare at them eerily. It reminded me of a movie scene in one of the “Lord of the Ring” installments wherein two Hobbits were being carried by not only talking trees, but also walking. I just wished then that the trees, if they do walk, would be friendly enough and offer us a lift to make our expedition easier and more adventurous. But they didn’t, they just stayed there and made me awed of how beautiful they made this forest with their colossal canopies.
Lunch was taken along the banks of the Dappeg River and by 2:00 PM, Nagsanipan River was reached. Upon arrival, camp was immediately set up and to our delight, our new Agta friends shared with us their four-feet igat catches, perfect combination with Mr. Pedro Domeq.
By 7:00 AM of our third day in the bounds of the NSMNP, the whole team resumed the expedition with an instantaneous ascend, again, through thick vegetations that filters the sun’s rays. The terrain was somewhat mucky brought about by the heavy downpour the night before, which rather made it difficult to trudge higher into the mountain. An hour and a half later, we found ourselves on a peak that offered a limited vista of the mountains we’ve already traversed. From that point, the trek down seemed to be precarious as the terrain is around 60 to 75 degrees of damp and squashy earth. A slight blunder on one’s footing will send one tumbling down the mountain. But for the trained mountaineers, it is just one of those terrains that bring out their knacks. There are even sections of the trail wherein it was no place to lose your balance. Even with my years of experience, I cautiously lowered one foot in front of the other. At around 20 inches wide, the trail seemed more like 6 inches and my feet felt the size of two garbage can lids.
The said precarious trail led us to Dimego River, where we took our lunch, while the rest took theirs at someplace in the mountain. We resumed the trek at around 12:30PM, the river as our trail, then up and down another mountain, river trekking once again, then up and down another mountain again, crossing the wide Dipadian River, scaling an arid waterfalls, ridging and contouring, river trekking once again, until we reached our camp site at around 5:00PM, which is at the banks of the unspoiled Dipadian River. Maila, a member of BAKIR, who was able to catch up with us at the first crossing of the Dipadian River, decided to head back and join her club mates downstream and at the other side of the last mountain we traversed.
That night, the group downstream was bestowed with a Mass celebrated by no other than Bishop Sergio, while our group upstream was spell bounded by the multitude of fireflies frolicking on a tree across the river. We could only wish we were part of that Eucharistic Celebration, but to no avail. We had to resort to the company of Mr. Pedro Domeq yet again.
The following day, BAKIR and NWORC was reunited at around 9:00AM, hence, the resumption of the trek. The trek for that day started with a nippy river crossing, followed by a punishing, laborious and cardio-busting ascend thru almost impenetrable barbed flora waiting to lacerate our skin. Dead beat and whacked from the abrupt ascend, we were rewarded with a trail following the contours of the mountain that vanished when a stream appeared. From there, we had to trek upstream for almost an hour, then popping at another trailhead leading to the highest peak along our route. From the said peak, a significant view of the Pacific Ocean can be seen. As much as we wanted to stay for a while and enjoy the scenery, the presence of menacing leeches kept us going. Farther down, the nice coastal town of Palanan can be seen with its pearly beaches at the east.
Our fourth night was spent at the banks of Guisaden River, which we reached at 1:30PM. Since our group had not taken lunch yet, we cooked right away. We allocated extra food for our Agta friends, considering that they, too, had not eaten yet. It was at this moment that I found out that I had severely damaged my feet. Due to continued drenching in rivers, which made the skin tender, coupled with the wrong choice of socks that created friction against my skin, I suffered from abrasions which led to second degree friction burns in my right sole and at my toes. It couldn’t have come in a more appropriate timing, considering that we still had a day left on our expedition.
The expedition didn’t lack its share of adverse elements. Here, the weather shifts from radiant skies to bright whiteouts in the time it takes for clouds to tumble down off the ridge tops. Around 6 o’clock that night, the single thing I feared, when it was decided by the whole team to camp there, developed. The cumulonimbus cloud I noticed earlier which was heading in our direction, unleashed its wrath. Constant monitoring on our improvised level marker of cairns and an empty water container tied to a rock indicated a considerable rise in the river’s level in just a few minutes. Experience dictated that I inform the expedition organizers of the imminent danger and that we start breaking camp and transfer to an emergency camp across the river, before a flash flood takes its toll. Just in case things got worst, a lifeline was anchored from the other side of the river to aid us in crossing.
After making sure nobody was left behind, Tami and I crossed the river last. The water at that moment was now waist-deep, compared to the knee level when I was setting up the lifeline. All accounted for, Joel and I immediately facilitated makeshift shelters to prevent further problems that may ensue, like hypothermia due to the sustained rain.
One thing truly leads to another. If it hadn’t for the flash flood, we wouldn’t have discovered another characteristic of the forest. For some reasons I couldn’t possibly comprehend, our emergency camp was surrounded with lots of luminous parched leaves. It was totally stunning! It was amazing! God is so great!
To some extent, the following day was a little bit hazy, but it gave a relaxing feeling since this was our last day in the wilderness. At around 7:00AM, we started out following the Guisaden River going to Besag, a barangay of Palanan. The trek was relatively effortless for most of the team members. For me, it was cruel. It was the literal meaning of “the agony of the feet.” The damage on my feet worsened with every step I make. Pressure and sand rubbing on the abrasions on my feet generated an excruciating pain that kept me at a snail’s pace. But, instead of yielding to the pain, I made it my motivation to conclude the expedition and get it over with. After all, pain is just weakness leaving your body and what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger.
At 2:00PM of the 21st of August, 2006, Bishop Sergio Utleg, Joel Paysan, Maila Ibarra, Patricia Uy, Arnold Beltran, Constante Simon, Josie Cabanos, Dr. Jesusa Christina Ancheta, Rafael Jacinto, Tami Fabros, Rico Javier, Dr. April Llaneta, Alexander delos Santos and I, finally reached the end of the expedition, all safe and in good spirit.
After five days of trekking in the quiet confines of the NSMNP, it became apparent to me that we are small creatures in an exceedingly large environment. It’s a peculiar feeling. Mother Nature is vast, and here I appreciated her more. At these grand sceneries, we gawked at rivers that are so dark it blended with the hazy forest. Some, so blue it seemed like a ribbon pulled from the sky. The trek in the park varied from difficult to easy. The difficulty has less to do with the tangible altitude change than with the tough, inconstant terrain and the up and down climbs in its gorges.
You wouldn’t notice it for the blossoming vegetation, but some parts of the park is still healing from past environmental abuses. By the end of the 70’s, this land was deeply scarred by picked clean marketable trees. The fact that most parts of the park appears primordial to the untrained eye is a testament of the resiliency of nature and the stewardship of different agencies, both government and private. Because of this, the abuses of the past are now mantled by new forests and crossed over with trails that lead to natural treasures. The air is filled with the rich scent of green growth and decay. This is terra incognita for people who keep boundaries within themselves.
Like countless matters in the mountaineering world, the expedition reminded me that the most excellent adventure mixes a lot of tangible aspects with some not simply defined. One can pack all the right gears and train until they throw up, but without a little bit of luck and an optimistic mental attitude there’s still a pretty decent chance you’ll come up short. You can’t beat the mountain; all you can do is stack the odds to your advantage. Attitude and a bit of luck are just as important as technical skills and stamina.
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