Oh Gunung Kinabalu, you formidable foe. You almost killed me; you made my legs feel like lead weights, you battered my knees, you almost twisted my ankles by making my feet slip on wet, muddy planks and uneven rocks. But I fought back, gasping for air, and persevered...to the rest stop. And then, I could go no further. Gunung Kinabalu, one day, when I have taken leave of my senses, I will climb you again. And make it to the summit.
I have known about Gunung Kinabalu for years. It is always mentioned in any literature about Sabah and is definitely one of THE things to do when visiting the state. Most guide books will tell you that you need a reasonable level of fitness and no mountaineering experience to climb it. This is mostly true; the path is clear cut and for the most part requires you to ascend via steps of wooden planks or rocks. However, I believe guide books should add a disclaimer stating "Reasonable level of fitness is assumed when one engages in a continuous period of moderate cardiovascular activity. Persons who have spent five years or more sitting on their ass in an airconditioned office, and who walk around 20 minutes a day in total (including the time spent to get their lunch), should be inclined to conclude that they do not possess the level of fitness required to climb this mountain." That would be more accurate and would have probably ensured that I stayed away totally.
The Gunung Kinabalu climb is one of the activities that you need to book in advance, unless you're fit enough (or mad enough) to attempt the ascent in one day. This is possible; we met people who had done so, but there is no way in hell that I would do this. The entire trek from the base to the summit is 8.7 km in total, and the rest stop for the night is Laban Rata at 6 km. The Kinabalu Park and Laban Rata are run by Sutera Sanctuary Lodges and you need to book a sleeping bunk at the rest stop. This is a hugely popular activity and there can be a long waiting time for an available date. We started checking with Sutera prior to departing from Singapore on 4th June, and were only able to climb the mountain on 17th June.
From the onset, this activity presents you with scenarios which serve no other purpose except to repeatedly thrash your self-esteem, wounding your ego, until you are left feeling spent, bruised and small.
On the way to the start of the trek, you pass a signboard which lists the fastest times for the climb, recorded at the annual mountain climbing tournament. The record holding climb by a man is 2 hours 40 minutes, and 3 hours 20 minutes by a woman. These are the times in which they climbed to the summit and RETURNED to the base. Seriously? How is this helping anybody? Move the sign, PLEASE!
Our guide up the mountain was an old gentleman with a long white beard. He hardly broke into a sweat during the climb, and 30 minutes into it said, "May I help you to carry your bag Miss?" All my manners towards the elderly were forgotten; I nodded silently (speach was too difficult) and gave him the bag because I couldn't carry it and myself up the bloody mountain. A little later on I attempted to make conversation with him and was rewarded for my congeniality by being informed that he climbs the mountain three times a week as a guide. I contemplated this information, aware that my heart was in great danger of bursting out of my chest.
As time passed, I became aware of people passing me as I wheezed and groaned along the path. Othen they passed with a friendly "Hello!" As I glanced up to acknowledge the greeting, I realised that they were carrying large, heavy parcels slung across their backs. It slowly dawned on me that there was no other way up the mnountain, no automobile road or rail line. The only way up is to climb, and these people were carrying produce to the rest stop. I suddenly felt very ashamed of surrendering my extra bag containing my DSLR and lunch to the guide, but I wasn't ashamed enough to take it back and carry it myself. A number of the porters that started climbing at the same time as me were able to complete two trips up and down in the time it took me to reach Laban Rata.
Finally, 5 hours later, I managed to gasp my way to the rest stop, all the while praying for the sweet release of death. It took me almost 45 minutes to complete the last KM, due to my inability to suck air into my lungs, and because I had begun to experience a splitting headache. The world was spinning around me and I had to fight the urge to throw up. At 5.5 KM, surrounded by forest and cold air, I realised I had altitude sickness. The ego hits just kept on coming.
It was cold at the rest stop at 3pm, and by nightfall it was freezing. However, the food at the rest stop was scrumptious, and made me forget for a while that we were in non-heated bunks (sharing with a lovely couple from the UK who were on their honeymoon). We met an uber-cute Australian traveller who was about 22, but whatever, age is just a number. He, too, had altitude sickness, which made me feel so much better about my affliction.
We set off again on the climb to the summit at around 2:30 am, but I wasn't able to go on for more than half a km; my head was spinning way too much. The guide said that for the last 1.5 km of the trek you have to pull yourself up the mountain with ropes, so I decided not to carry on for fear that I would kill myself. However, my hardy comrade Emma managed to get to the summit. Three cheers!
The trek up was bad, but the the trek down is what really kills your legs. We headed back to KK as soon as we got to the base, and spent the next two days in excruciating pain because every step was torture. I was cognizant of the fact that I was stumbling along in the manner of a person with a stick jammed up their butt, but the pain in my legs was so overwhelming that I didn't care. We ended up spending the two days getting massages and watching movies at the movie theatre, because movies are so incredibly cheap in Malaysia. We paid around SGD 4 bucks each time, (which to me is like watching movies for free) and so we watched Sex and the City 2 and Toy Story 3. I will refrain from going into my opinion of SATC 2; anyone who knows me knows I will endlessly spew virulent hatred regarding this franchise, so I will leave it for another post. Toy Story was funny though, I enjoyed it immensely. It also made me realise that I should watch Pixar movies myself, because I keep bursting into tears in every movie. My brain can't seem to process that it's a cartoon.
In hindsight, despite the pain of the whole thing, I am glad I climbed (partially) Mount Kinabalu.
