Mount Kinabalu, 2 Tough Days in Borneo
My lungs are burning as I gasp for breath in the thin mountain air. I have been climbing for two hours in the darkness and I ask myself repeatedly, why am I doing this? My husband Dave has talked me into conquering Mount Kinabalu, but I am having my doubts. Am I actually capable of making it to the summit?
This 4095 metre mammoth is a 2-hour bus ride from Kota Kinabalu, the capital of Sabah, Malaysian Borneo’s northern province.
As we ride along the winding mountain road, its unmistakable figure comes into view. The dark jagged rock is in sharp contrast to the lush surrounding jungle and it’s an intimidating sight rising out of the deep valley. My heart races just a bit faster and a burning question creeps into my mind. “Am really going to climb that tomorrow?”
Left alone on the side of the road, we haul our packs onto our backs and walk anxiously towards the parks headquarters to book our trek.
It is an easy task to secure a spot on tomorrows climb. The parks staff takes care of everything. Just tell them that you want to climb the mountain, and they supply the guide, sell you your permits and book your rooms.
After signing our waivers, we settle into our cozy dorm to organize our packs for the two days ahead. Managing to piece together hats, gloves and jackets, by accepting handouts and frantically shopping in Kuala Lumpur, we feel ready to face the near freezing temperatures of Kinabalu’s summit.
The first day of our climb starts at 7:30 a.m., where we meet our guide and the other members of our group. A mini van takes us to Timpohon Gate at the base of the mountain where our journey begins.
Our climb will be lasting for two days and within the first 5 minutes; I am already exhausted. My small daypack weighs heavy on my back as porters whiz by carrying giant barrels and cumbersome loads to supply the rest house, Laban Rata at 3500 metres. It makes me appreciate the high cost of bottled water.
The walk up the steep grade and high steps is a struggle, but the views make it all worthwile. Rolling mountains of dense jungle under a vibrant blue sky dotted with fluffly white clouds.
Upon reaching Laban Rata, we gratefully relax until dinner at sunset. The sky is ablaze with fiery reds and pinks illuminating the clouds pillowed below and I admire its beauty before turning early.
Bundled in layers, our group meets at 3:00 am to set off in the cold morning air. It is a struggle and I find it difficult to catch my breath, but a bottleneck on the first set of wooden steps forces us to keep a slow pace climbing in single file. Soon, I find my rhythm and as if in a trance, I steadily climb for 2 1/ 2 hours.
The sheer granite face becomes near vertical as we gain altitude. I pull myself up with great effort using ropes tethered to the rock, thankful for the darkness concealing the long drop into oblivion.
It is cold and dark and I am exhausted. It feels as though we will never reach the summit and every step is excruciating. My legs ache and my heart races. I look down and see a long line of lights winding below and I am thankful that at least I am farther along than they are..
Breathlessly, we stumble up the last obstacle of precarious jagged rocks and arrive at the top in darkness wondering “is this it?’”
After verifying that yes we are at the summit, we jostle for a position on the small peak, careful not to take a wrong step and fall into the deep canyon. We perch ourselves on the edge of a rock facing east, and I am overcome with emotion until I realize that I have to wait for another hour until sunrise. Huddling together, we wrap anything that we can find around our legs and shoulders to protect us from the frigid air but, nothing helps and we shiver in the cold.
Finally, the sun breaks out from below the horizon, lighting up the sky and warming our chilled bones revealing a magnificent view. Surrounded by vast mountains I look into the plunging valley, and I am amazed that I made it.
We snap the obligatory photo of us standing at the summit and then there us nothing left to do but to walk back down.
I thought that the walk up was difficult, but the walk down is twice the pain. I now understand why they say that going down is the hardest part. My legs cramp tighter with each step, and the distance seems to be endless. I no longer care about the stunning vistas and panoramic views. All I want is to get off of this mountain and to have this ordeal behind me.
With the final cruelty of steep steps leading up Timpohan Gate, we finally come to the end. The sight of our mini van waiting for us brings an overwhelming sense of relief to know that I will soon be sitting down and I plunge into the seat feeling proud of my accomplishment.
It is amazing how quickly the mind forgets pain. The next day on the bus back to Kota Kinabalu, we are already planning our next climb. Kilimanjaro, here we come!
And yes, we did Kilimanjaro 3 years later. It seemed less painful than Kinibalu. I really think that Borneo’s climb, which was shorter and took less time, was still a far more difficult mountain to conquer.
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