Up Mt. Kinabalu- Part 2

We passed through the park entrance gate and walked down a long stretch of steeply laid stairs, which seemed a strange way to start the climb up to the highest peak in Southeast Asia. In less than five minutes, we passed a good sized waterfall poorly hidden behind sparse vines. We stopped for a minute and I took a quick picture. The picture didn't do the waterfall justice, but I was unbothered, figuring there would be many aesthetic treasures in need of documenting higher up. In hindsight, I wish I would have spent more time at the waterfall because there really isn't much to see on the hike up to the lodge- which rests at 6 kilometers, two thirds of the way up.

Nice little waterfall near the entrance (or exit I suppose)

I am sure that if you took great care and wondered outside of the worn path into uncharted terrain, the land around and underneath your feet would be enough to occupy and fascinate the minds of geologists, biologists and botanists for decades. The high altitude and proximity to the equator are prime conditions for a number of plants, insects and birds. I have read that many of the rhododendrons and ferns on Kinabalu can be found in only a few places in the world, and the mountain itself contains no less than eighteen species of rats (I fact I was made all too aware of later on).

On the trail, however, the scenery was limited to the orange rock stairs laid out ahead and the occasional wooden railing. The unique ferns and rhododendrons walled our view like a blurred and freely dabbed impressionistic painting. We were walking through the clouds on an overcast day and gray mist swallowed all that was not green. There were a few viewpoints along the trail, but peering out was like staring into a blank movie screen.

The trail is in very good shape. Anyone can do it, but you will be sore

Pretty gray view, but it would clear up for a little bit that evening

Can't remember if this was the trail or a side path I took a picture of. I think it is the trail.

I used our stop at the waterfall to get to know our guide a bit better. He said that he mikes the climb up to the top one or two times a week. On our way down the next day, we saw many guides hoofing food and supplies up to the lodge. Many guides even carried their passengers overstuffed bags for them- no doubt for a price. Our guide was thin and I looked older, but it is impossible to tell exactly how old. I have heard it said that people in Southeast Asia either look very young or very old, and this I cannot dispute. Despite this, and our guide's overall fitness, we would be carrying our own bags.

At about every half of a kilometer, there is a rest area with either benches or a wooden floored pagoda. There is also a unisex toilet at each stop. Each bathroom is dirty, and I was glad for it. I would have felt it unauthentic had they been sparkly clean with a urinal cake and powdered soap smell. It was bad enough that there were stairs, formed either from rock, wood or (gasp!) cement aiding us along for the majority of the climb. (Let me digress here and explain that I do not particularly enjoy hiking. Sure it is ok if you have time to kill and there is no tv or internet around, but it just isn't something I seek out. Sami wanted to hike Kinabalu because the view from the top at sunrise is spectacular and also because reaching the top would create a sense of accomplishment- nevermind that our guide hoofs it up twice a week, most people never get the opportunity. I embrace the challenge of climbing, but I tend to attack it like a sport- let me get to the top as fast as possible, not only so I can win, but also because then I will no longer have to climb. However, when I do decide to partake in an activity, regardless of the amount of disdain I hold in my soul, I don't like to cut corners. Maybe it is the Catholic in me that feels like I am being judged every second of the day, or maybe I just want to be able to tell the best possible story. Therefore, I was unhappy about the act of hiking, happy about the pain, unhappy about the presence of bathrooms, happy about their ghastly appearance, unhappy about sleeping in a bed at the lodge, happy that the bed was hard. Make sense?)

At the three kilometer mark, we met our first descender. He was a German fellow about our age. He sat down and fed the fat and brown, brave squirrels that picked at his shoe. We asked him how the view was this morning. He gave us the answer we already knew, but submitted a warning- don't summit too early or you will be waiting around for over an hour in the cold. Of course, you do want to get up to the top early enough to get a view, but he was far too early and paid for it.

I wasn't hungry, but I can't resist a drumstick

Further up, I (and yes I am changing "we" to "I" right now because at this point I had intentionally pulled far ahead of Sami and the guide) hiked into the majority of the descending party above. Each one commented that I was the first climber they had seen and asked what time it was that I began in the morning. I began to wonder, "Did we leave too soon?"

Earlier in the summer, Sami and I had hiked a few trails in Korea at Seoraksan National Park. There were a couple of stretches that tested our endurance, and I think it was decent training for Kinabalu. One problem I had was I began to get paranoid about which leg I kept pushing off of. It seemed like I was always using my right leg to make a power push and then lazily following with the left. As a result, I climbed most of the way with my head down and was somewhat surprised when I came upon the yellow lodge.

My first glimpse of the lodge- very happy to be done hiking for the day

 The lodge consisted of a large dining area, kitchen, supply desk and wooden patio on the other side of giant windows. Every now and then the clouds would part and present a spectacular view. I was dead tired and drank a cup of instant coffee we had brought from Korea. The dining room was filled with Chinese climbers in no hurry to get down. Many of them drank Tiger beer from Singapore, but I held back partly because of the price and partly out of fear of altitude sickness. I already felt severely constipated, which I later read is a common occurrence at high altitudes. My belly felt like an overfilled balloon, tightly wrapped in my Lycra undershirt. This didn't stop me from overindulging in mini chicken burgers and fried banana fritters later on at dinner.

Very sleepy

 Dinner later on. I honestly thought I was holding back.

In the meantime, Sami and I went upstairs to nap in our bunk beds. The lodge contained around twenty or so dorms, each with three sets of bunk beds. There was a smaller loge a little further up the trail. All together there were about 100 climbers who would rise at 2:00am the next morning to reach the summit before sunrise. Two hours later, when Sami and I woke, yesterday's Chinese climbers had left and the new crew began to take their place.

Our room. I was on the top bunk pictured.

 After dinner we were treated to a spectacular sunset. Sami and I met a young Irish lad and chatted with him about all types of subjects including the wealth of Malaysia and Brunei and it's natural reserves of aiyle. Upon later inspection, it turns out that "aiyle" is Irish for oil.

View from the balcony.

Most people were back in bed by 7 o'clock in preparation for the early morning. I put in earplugs, slipped my sleep mask over my eyes and braced myself for what I had hoped would be, an easy rest.