Memoirs Of Mount. Kinabalu

CHAPTER 01: GOOD MORNING SABAH!
I awoke from my deep slumber. The mattress was somewhat hard but nonetheless comfortable, and for a while I stared up the ceiling, asking myself why it looked so unfamiliar to my eyes. It should be, for I was not within the confines of my own bedroom, but rather at the majestic Sutera Kinabalu Lodge. Crawling out of bed, the first thing I did was to head towards the frost-filled window, tip-toeing across the cold wooden planks that made up the floor. The early rays of the sun had just broken through across North Borneo, bathing a nearby mountain with its golden, magnificent rays.

That mountain was Kinabalu upon closer inspection. I recognized one of the peaks to be Donkey Ears. Excitedly I called upon Shearn and Jarod, who happened to be there at that time. Together, we enjoyed the view from our humble room while basking in the warmth of our brotherhood. Breakfast was sort of a "cook-it-yourself-or-go-hungry" kind of event, mainly comprised of instant cup noodles. No one complained although the forementioned noodles tasted somewhat rubbery that day. Could've been the water, I told myself.


CHAPTER 02: D-DAY
We sat there suited up on the kerbs, backpacks firmly secured in place and looking very much like a bunch of paratroopers sans rifles, waiting for our ride. Some were still busy chowing down on their breakfast (myself included). Soon the van came, and after placing our rucksacks into the vehicle and taking only the necessary survival items, we were off.

Arriving at Headquarters a little after five minutes, each individual lined up for their general-issued dogtags which was to be worn throughout the whole stay atop the mountain. It was also at HQ that we assigned two mountain guides to our 13-man squad. Endless photoshots were taken of the mountain, or of a person posing with the mountain in the background. After a quick round of prayers, we were off to war. A war of attrition against potential muscle fatigue, mental anguish, altitude sickness, and the effects due to the lack of oxygen.

The bus gradually picked up speed, roaring down the narrow tarred road. Instead of singing and merrymaking, as most people would have expected us to be doing, each person was silently deep in his or her own thought. A few took the opportunity to catch a few winks or so. But for me, the adrenaline generated from my body was having a field day rushing through my veins. During those defining moments of my life, I could not help but think of cliched phrases such as how this was the moment we were all waiting for, the moment of truth that would put each individual to the test. Such philosophy indeed.


CHAPTER 03: THE POINT OF NO RETURN
The bus suddenly came to a grinding halt; we'd arrived at the last place that officially separated Mount. Kinabalu from the rest of the world - Timpohon Gate. Once the gates swung open and we passed through, there would be no major civilization landmarks until we reached Laban Rata. Prior to that, our friendly guide - the more senior dude of the two - gave us a small pep talk on survival techniques and what-not-to-do along the way. Each of us received an A4-sized paper advising those with chronic diseases ala heart attacks, asthma, diabetes et al not to proceed with the ascent. Pardon my thoughts, but shouldn't this whole inane disclaimer thing be brought to the attention of all potential climbers at least a day before the big climb? I imagined some poor unlucky chap burning RM200+ to stay there for the night, secure a guide and hitch the bus all the way to the Gate, only to be stopped for asthma!

Yep. Some smart system we have here. But then again, having made it this far plus spending almost close to RM300 for the air tickets, I sure as hell wasn't going to let anything as trivial as those mentioned in the paper stop me (if I had them in the first place, that is). Heck no. They can roll my dead body off the mountain later once I'm finished conquering Low's Peak.

CHAPTER 04: AND WE HAVE LIFTOFF!
I stopped by at the loo to drain my lizard for one last time before attempting the ascent, having heard nasty stories of horrifically-nauseous toilet shacks along the way up. Coming out, I saw my first much-famed porter of that day. She had this great straw rucksack upon her shoulders where all sorts of imaginable things were stacked in - bags of rice, water bottles, Armalite M4A1 carbines, the Death Star - that rose to almost twice her height. And here I was carrying only my first aid-kit, winter apparel, food and beverages, and already on the verge of throwing myself off the cliff.


CHAPTER 05: THE LONG ROAD UP
I've never been so alone before in my life. Trudging up Mount. Kinabalu proved to be a lonely experience for me, partly caused by the numerous times I stopped to capture some particular scene in my DSLR camera's viewfinder. Occasionally I'd bump into Pearly, Jeremy or Dizzy, but due to the fore mentioned camera-clicking frenzy high I had at that time, naturally I found myself all alone once more. Can't blame anyone. Once past the gates into the unknown, it automatically turns into one of those do-or-die, "every man for himself" kind of situation, where the average fit individual find it tough while the severely unfit calls it an impossible task, and your mind is being overwhelmed by rhetorical questions about life, the future, and what kind of madness could have possible driven you to accomplish such a suicidal adventure.

I continued walking, with the sounds of life growing fainter and fainter behind as I gradually crossed into colder zones. Tall, upright trees were slowly but surely being replaced by their gnarled and stumpy cousins. The soil turned stark orange and was said to contain some element which would kill off all plants except for a few. Once above a certain elevation, all signs of life, save for those firmly rooted into the ground, is gone. Gone are the birds which accompanied you as you made your way up during the first leg of the journey. Gone are the delightful chatter of squirrels and their mischevious antics. For some, it is an eerily unnerving thought. For me, it is deeply therauphetic. Think Genting Highlands without the Ah Bengs and Ah Liens.

Occasionally at certain interval points, there is a simple hut/shelter in which you may stop to rest your tired feet, slap on huge dollops of questionable muscle fatigue relieving cream, and of course, eat your measly rations (either half-melted chocolate or something equivalent to it) and drink whatever water you have left. If you're out of drinking water, or if you desperately need some, the authorities have been kind enough to establish green rust-proof water tanks right next to the said huts, with the contents being collected rainwater. It just sits there quietly, tempting you to take a swig or two out of it, and you can't even lift the damn cover to tell what's died inside it, if there's any. At this point, having Halizone tablets in your inventory is a blessing indeed. Nailed neatly onto on of the supporting wooden beam posts is a sign indicating your current elevation. Once you've had enough rest and confirm that your feet might not conspire to walk you off some cliff, you continue upwards. It's repetitious and in some ways an expensive way to suffer, but strangely enough I got quite a kick out of this whole sadistic operation.


CHAPTER 06: HALFWAY POINT WITH HALF-LIFE GONE
The hike was now around five-sixths of the total journey up before reaching the halfway mark, given the calculation I made in my mind. I could be wrong, but such optimism keeps one from either impaling himself on the nearest sharp tree trunk, or doing the swan ballet off a cliff. Besides, I wanted something to tell my grandchildren about. Earlier on, at the third shelter where I stumbled upon Dizzy, Jeremy and Pearly once again, the sign nailed at the beam indicated an elevation surpassing that of Genting and Tahan. Given me, I'd pop open some champagne and arouse the men to celebrate, but at the risk of getting impaled, or forced to do the swan ballet, or both.

The landscape suddenly changed as abruptly as how money changes hands in a casino; there wasn't even enough of those gnarled trees and shrubs to start a plant army of my own now. The entire surrounding was mainly granite slabs now, with slight hints of loose rocks. The steps grew larger apart, straining the kneecaps. Retreating poisonous orange soil was being replaced by light tan ground.


CHAPTER 07: HELL FREEZES OVER
During the Battle of the Bulge, isolated 101st Airborne paratroopers, cut-off and surrounded by thousands of well-prepared German soldiers


CHAPTER 08: MIDNIGHT RUN



CHAPTER 09: THE DAWN OF A NEW BEGINNING



CHAPTER 10: A PEAK TOO FAR
My parents and also some of my friends who are in a saner state of mind that I am in (that's what I think, more or less) constantly question my strange preference to pay money for some trip which either leaves me half-destroyed or fully incapable of functioning well by the time I reach home, in this case mountain-climbing (or scrambling, whichever applies). I tell them honestly that I do not understand my semi-suicidal urges as well, save for the comforting thought that I am actually probably taking the path less taken (pardon the pun). I don't really see much joy or excitement to be visiting some exotic beach miles away from my house, with the sun-baked sands searing my soles, and the salty sea waters leaving me feeling like some salty sea dog. Granted, they make nice picture postcards, but then again, nothing beats big, shiny mountains with their rugged peaks and danger at every turn.

That train of thought ran through my mind as I braved the strong winds, struggling to get a foothold on the slippery granite ground. Each step demanded an average of five gasps of thin mountain air, and five steps taken brought the body to a standstill while you recalibrated yourself. My backpack, though lightened and temporarily freed from all the burdensome weight of food and extra squirrel fodder, still felt like deadweight upon my shoulders. Pain and suffering were the standard order for the day, and still I got a kick of out it.


CHAPTER 11: THE HEROES AT 13,000 FEET

CHAPTER 12: MISSION: HALF ACCOMPLISHED

CHAPTER 13:

CHAPTER 14:

CHAPTER 15:

Turkish Star Wars - A Terrible Hope

In life, one will occasionally stumble upon a few bad movies that either has a lousy stinking storyline, campy special-effects, or extremely wooden acting. They are a pain in the ass to watch, and simply a waste of my life just to endure that 2 hours. Despite knowing all this, nothing can seriously prepare you for the sheer insanity that is Dunyayi Kurtaran Adam (The Man Who Saves The World), more popularly referred to as "Turkish Star Wars" due to the excessive bootlegging of space dogfight scenes from Star Wars Episode IV: A New Hope, particularly those of the Death Star trench run. Watching the movie was akin to smoking yourself silly with shisha while high on alcohol. It's that bad, but hilarious, nonetheless.

Curiously, the Turks seem to have a penchant for recycling Hollywood blockbuster films to their own version, usually on a shoestring budget most of the time. Other notable "copycat" movies include Turkish Star Trek, Turkish E.T., Turkish Wizard Of Oz and of course, Turkish Superman. But Dunyayi still holds the number one spot for the masterpiece crass that is pirated Star Wars.

Produced in 1982 during the politically-upheaving times in Turkey meant that access to American-made movies were simply next to impossible. Thus almost no one then back in the country had heard of Jaws, Star Wars, Superman and Indiana Jones, to name a few. So director Cetin Inanc decided to make his legendary movie based on, well, Star Wars, for the Turkish cinema. Normally I would steer clear of bad, B-Grade movies, but not this one, which has been officially named as one of the worst movies ever made. It's so bad that it's surprisingly good to watch, and is essentially THE ultimate flick for lonely Saturday nights. Need to unwind? Watch Dunyayi. Had a bad day at work today? Pop Dunyayi into the DVD player.

Therefore, without further ado, let's buckle ourselves into the seat of the Kurtaran, I mean err, Millennium Falcon and grab your popcorn as you sit back and let the plot unravel slowly below (not that there's much spoilers to give away anyway - it's just basically a hack and slash plot) :-

CHAPTER 01: IT IS A TIME OF CIVIL WAR
A long time ago in a Turkish-speaking galaxy far, far away, there lived this badass megalomaniac in a colorful Mardi Gras-like costume (let's call him Turkish Vader) who had this evil intention of invading and conquering Earth (what else if not that?). Helping him in his nefarious scheme is a slutty princess, an evil blue robot with a trashcan for a head and an ambulance light on top of it (I swear), his personal gay-looking sidekick with a generous helping of afro hair, and a few more generic-looking henchmen. The opening credits of the film is, thankfully, devoid of the infamous Star Wars text crawl and theme song, so I guess credit must be given here for the creativity of the Dunyayi crew for using their own theme music. Then a few clips of planets are mashed together, including shots of the Death Star, broken in between by occasional shots of NASA rockets blasting off into space, and images of planets being blown to smithereens by the Death Star itself. Random segments of TIE fighters and X-Wings also make their debut in this scene.

CHAPTER 02: THE MEN WHO WILL SAVE THE WORLD
The scene then cuts to both of our heroes whose mission is to oppose Turkish Vader and his band of merry villains and save the world from their clutches of evil. Unlike other heroes, both the protagonists in this film are essentially potbellied, middle-aged men - Murat (the one with his head full of grey hair) and Ali (a horny womanizer) - wearing the typical kapcai motorcycle helmet with the visor removed. A pair of old-style walkman headphones are attached to the helmet, either because they think it looks cool or just simply a case of not wanting to let it go to waste. Director Cetin Inanc wanted the first 8 minutes of the movie to feature the heroes engaging the enemy starfighters, but no budget was present. The solution? Rip off scenes from the space dogfight sequences in Star Wars. In what appears to be a bizarre twist of the heroic duo piloting TIE fighters (minus the TIE pilot costume) battling waves of evil X-Wing fighters apparently sent by Turkish Vader himself, the close-up shots of the heroes have them to be pretending to fly while grainy footage of the fore mentioned dogfight plays on a rear projection screen just behind them. But this is only a quarter of the madness so far, as you will see.

CHAPTER 03: ONLY SILVER STORMTROOPERS CAN BE SO IMPRECISE
A bright bolt of lightning soon brings both of our heroes crash-landing onto an alien desert planet. Unfortunately there was also no planned budget for this scene so what you get is short segment of auroras while the heroes dig out of the rubble and dust themselves. At first, the surrounding area is reminiscent to the planet Tatooine of the 1977 classic. The next shot reveals pyramids and the Sphinx, so it doesn't take a smart individual to realize it's Egypt after all. No sooner than that, a horde of Skeleton Knights on horses in red flowing capes appear to terminate the duo, but are easily dispatched off with a flurry of karate chops and throws, even though Murat and Ali's punches constantly miss the bad guys by as much as five good inches. In what you will witness to be probably one of the worst ever display of fighting skills and combat choreography, the evil horsemen just seem to be standing around or waiting patiently for the heroes to throw and judo them off the horses. And all this while the soundtrack from "Raiders Of The Lost Ark" plays in the background over and over again. One can't help but wonder if director Cetin Inanc is either out of ideas or out of his mind, or both. Nevertheless, this movie follows the "Cliched Rules Of Close-Quarter Combat" very closely in the sense that ten well-trained and heavily-armed villains in full armor and riding atop horses can be so easily defeated by two unarmed and dazed heroes. It's amazing.

CHAPTER 04: WOT, NO LIGHTSABERS?
Fleeing by horse, the two then arrive at a small village, where they are subsequently taken captive by Turkish Vader's army, comprised of skinny gladiators, red furry monsters and silver Stormtroopers. The same skinny muscle-free gladiators in modified pots as helmets soon begin hacking and killing skinny muscle-free slaves. In the chaos, Murat devises a plan to escape with Ali, albeit a ridiculous one that involves spinning their captors around and round. The plan works, and soon the duo retreat into the caves with a sexy, Cleopetra-like lady with a scruffy-looking boy in need of a good bath. All's good until one of the protagonists accidentally stumble upon a room containing... mummies in fake toilet paper wrapping! As if on cue, the zombies come alive and break into the rooms, killing all the children (except for one) with their dirty fingernails. More walls come crashing down, but this time red and black variants of furry red monsters emerge. They too, assist in the massacre. Escaping into another room filled with a handful of survivors, both Murat and Ali block the doorway by means of a rolling stone, and without warning a six-foot tall brown Chewbacca-esque walking carpet emerges from nowhere and starts beating the remaining refugees to a bloody pulp with its shoestring whips! To add confusion to this whole movie, nothing is mentioned about the two heroes along with the nameless blonde and her bastard son; they seem to have vanished into thin air. To further emphasize the horror of the killings, Cutin Inanc decided to display the children's blood-splattered corpses on screen, whereby they subsequently turn into mummies after Turkish Vader is finished with drinking their blood. The heroic duo, along with the foxy lady and the remaining child are next seen retreating further into the mountains to prepare for the big battle, which means that a total workout and kungfu training will be needed. This is where the fun starts.

CHAPTER 05: USE THE KEBAB, LUKE
To begin, both the heroes level up their kungfu skills by chopping endlessly at cardboard rocks, scratch their fingers on the ground, and attain the ability to jump great distances by securing cardboard boulders onto their ankles and leap around like an astronaut on marijuana. Both of them do these incredible feats shirtless. I don't mind it if they have the body sculpture of Bruce Lee, Schwarzenegger or even Stallone, but sadly both Murat and Ali are blessed with the body shapes that somewhat resemble Jabba The Hutt. Next, Murat shows us that the same boulders are amazingly explosive if you kick them towards a cliff. The finale of the training dawns with Murat trying his best to look pissed-off towards the camera as he chops yet another cardboard boulder, but this time in half, leaving his hands bloodied.

CHAPTER 06: LUKE, I AM YOUR TURKISH FATHER
The duo then bid their farewell to the girl (did I mention that she's mute too?) and head towards a small-time town and invariably end up inside a bar, also roughly fleshed out as the Lucas original. The patrons in the bar comprise of men in ugly rubber masks, skinny muscle-free gladiators, and a few unintelligible ones (it doesn't matter since it's a mindless flick anyway). Murat and Ali order drinks but a fight suddenly breaks out, leaving them no choice but to beat everyone silly. Enter Kung Fu Joe, a Shaolin warrior wannabe donning a stereotype Asian rubber mask complete with a Fu Manchu moustache. A few more bad guys join the fight, but they are no match for our heroes' fighting prowess. Suddenly, with the help of bad video editing effects and cheesy camera trickery, Turkish Vader appears and stands on top of a table, of all the places to stand! With cheapskate transition effects that involve moving a red filter across the lens (presumably to simulate, erm, a red transition effect), Turkish Vader tells Murat that he has both the blonde and her bastard son with him and threatens to harm them should he disobey him right there and then. Our heroes have no choice but to submit, and they have God to thank that Turkish Vader isn't a gay asshole who decides to sexually probe them before whisking them both back to his lair (or did he?).

CHAPTER 07:
Back at their terrifying headquarters, our heroes are forced to change into painfully stupid glossy clothes - Murat's shirt comes with two red circles in position where his nipples should be. Must be a fetish or something, but soon we learn that Turkish Vader is actually merciful and kind. He proposes to them that should they join him (because it's their destiny and crap like that), the three will rule the Turkish galaxy together as good friends. Naturally, buffed-up Murat declines, and this angers Vader a lot. And I mean a hell lot. So angry is he for wasting his saliva with Murat that he orders the Skeleton Knights and furry monsters (which seem to be abundant in this movie) to destroy them. Thus and so begins yet another round of senseless beatings, karate-chops and dismemberments of bodily parts. At this point, it's tempting to just fast-forward and get to the next part, but I must insist that you stay for the cheesy actions. About halfway into the fight, and in what would probably be Murat's most defining moment of the whole film, he blocks a sword thrust with his palms, puts the cutting edge of the weapon into his mouth and freaking karate chops it into pieces! Now I would seriously pay ten bucks to see these kind of insane movies at the cinema, I kid you not.

CHAPTER 08:


CHAPTER 09:


CHAPTER 10:


To be continued

Operation Mount. Kinabalu

"Boys and girls, fellow climbers of the Kinabalu Expeditionary Forces: You are about to embark upon the Great Crusade, toward which we have striven these many months. The eyes of the world are upon you. The hopes and prayers of adventure-loving people everywhere march with you. In company with our brave guides and brothers-in-arms on other Fronts you will bring about the ultimate conquer of the Kinabalu mountain, the victory over tired muscles and thin mountain air of North Borneo, and satisfaction for ourselves in a free world.

Your task will not be an easy one. The mountain is tough, rugged and battle-hardened. It will resist savagely.

But this is the year 2007! Much has happened since the trainings of 2006-07. The trainings have helped harden muscles and build staminas, in open jungles, man-with-man. Our mental alertness has seriously reduced the mountain's strength and the capacity to thin us out on the high ground. Our Home Fronts have given us an overwhelming superiority in moral support and munitions of adventure, and placed at our disposal great reserves of mountain-climbing equipment. The tide has turned! The free men of the world are marching together to Victory!

I have full confidence in your courage, devotion to duty and skill in climbing. We will accept nothing less than full victory!

Good Luck! And let us all beseech the blessing of Almighty God upon this great and noble undertaking."

Backtrack Date: Posted on 28th March 2007
After this little inspiring speech, I'll be off to classes and then back to pack the rest of the stuff and re-check all my equipments. Won't be back til the 4th April 2007. I'll be shipping out to conquer the mountain that I've been training for the past 9 months or so.