Klimbin' Kinabalu

So this crazy Englishman wasn’t at all what I expected to find in the lodge that would house me before I would ascend my highest mountain to date. “We’ve got to push a button and get rid of all these ragheads.” Holy Fatah, was my initial thought; but, soon much more would come. “I’m all Buddhist man, I mean peace and love, but bomb that shit. They are the problem…I could sooooo do without that.” We were all quite incredulous at his anachronistic and bigoted comments, but I can’t imagine the gaping mouth of the innocuous Megan from Alberta, who seemed as though she’d never left the comfort of cozy casa. I had to comfort her (and myself) in knowing that we must be exposed to people like this every now and again, because they and their racist intolerance and expedient myopia is the reason we’ve seen so much war and will see so much more. “Try to understand his complaint,” I said knowing that it was beyond difficult for me. The hypocrisy of his life is that he has been living in that village for 4.5 years and around Muslims for over 6. He confirmed his aberrational existence in that he was a fanatic for baseball, basketball, and American football which, if you’ve traveled, most people around the world don’t see the point or worse, despise. I think this guy loved it just to piss other foreigners off. Get this guy drunk and just fogetabowdit.

It was myself, a Canadian girl (22), and an Englishman (24) that were about to do the illegal; climb Mt. Kinabalu…in one day…without a guide…and without paying the ridiculous fee (that’s the illegal part). We talked our host, who has put up with Mr. Bomber for 4+ years, into driving us to the park at 4am where we would commence. It turned out to be 5 when we started the 5km walk uphill toward the beginning of the ascent; most people catch a ride for this uninteresting part, but most people don’t begin this early. After reaching the start, we managed our way around the fence and began the perilous path. The weather was very inviting as we climbed stair after stair after steep and exhausting stair. Every so often we could peak up at the sculpted stone so many people were summiting at that very moment; the sun pierced its pink promenade.

Most people climb up to 3210 meters the first night to acclimatize then, wake at 2am to ascend the peak and wait for the sunrise; sounds romantic right??? Not with another couple hundred people all doing it with you…I refuse! Apart from having seen so many beautiful solar farewells in so many venues, I chose what I chose because being alone on this mountain was much more magical than any picture could have painted.

The ascent has no clemency with steep stairs for several hours followed by just as steep reaches for rocks; not unlike some of the NZ tramps, but the longest ascent without relent. When we reached the sleeping height, we had our tuna sandwiches with cashews n’ chocolate. The canucky had to fall out of rank and remain at the restaurant while we would continue to the top. The length of the ascent was just under 9km (5.5 miles) and it was straight up like nothing I’ve seen; really…not even a quick decent or stretch of flats to abate. Greg and I were gripping rope at just about 7.5 km and feeling deranged n’ dizzy…it was fun. I knew that physically I could do it, rather the only thing that worried me was the altitude ascent all in one go. I haven’t done something like this in a very long time (Bolivia 2002), but found that we just needed to keep stopping and filling our bellies with chocolate and loads of water.

The last 1.5 km was all on shattered stone, granite that looked fractured like a big beast’s belly burdened and bloated; Greg and I were walking up and over the magnificent mount completely ALONE; truly a special moment to see for miles, all this rock in so many forms with not one person up there. Mt. Kinabalu is known for its cloudy disposition; in fact, most people don’t have much of a view when the get up there…”above the clouds” is the usual comment. We were so lucky to have the fog waxing and waning giving us big gulps of blue sky falling back to the open ocean, the mist washing over nature’s sculptures that we named as we went. Everyone told us that it took 3 hours to climb the last part, yet Greg and I mustered 2 hours of incessant breathlessness to lurch for the final few rocks that would claim the summit. Megan had cut up a pineapple the night before, and as I was carrying the food for the 3 of us, we pulled it out and let the sweetest juices jump onto our taste buds at 4095 meters; the party in my mouth celebrated the highest mountain I have actually climbed. Surprising that I haven’t reached higher, living for so long in Colorado but so it goes…13,510ft isn’t something to piss at.

We snapped photos for half an hour and soaked up the sun (facial burn the next day) before we heard the wind coming to change our blessed day. The view was exactly that, divine and gifted; we couldn’t have asked for a better day. Quickly after jumping down the pile of rocks, the rain commenced which forced us to take our time on the slippery granite that fell off like a cliff. I had heard stories of idiots running down this part and really ruining themselves; shattered knees, facial granite erasure, etc. so I made sure that we were careful for this part, using the ropes. Notwithstanding care, we ran down the stairs and rocks in just 3.5 hours making our entire “hike” a day of 9.5 hours of serious physical exertion.

Greg and I had some not so friendly altercations in our short encounter, but it didn’t mask the wonder that we had achieved together. As the rain drooled down our fatigued faces and we ran about to get some sort of transport for the 5km to the headquarters that we would NOT BLOODY walk, I see now that it was beautiful; crossing that last waterfall, bending down in agony to fill my water bottle one last time with fresh frothy liquid, my hair heavy with heaven’s h20, dog-tired, proud, body hating, wallet loving, spirit exalting. The warm shower and home cooked curry that awaited us was well received.

We actually beat Megan back to the B&B surprisingly; we worried a bit but then she showed. We all washed the warmth over our bodies—separately of course—and sat down in the communal room, held our cans of cold beer up to cheers the long and arduous day. To cap the greatness of 03 June 06, we busted our bellies with laughter to The Big Lebowski. Jeremy, the belligerent, got pretty sauced and continued his unique tirades. With our bodies and energies decimated we quickly scurried to our beds to fall off that metaphoric cliff into a chasm of comatose.