Mt. Kinabalu.

Well, I was defeated. I’ll try again eventually, but for now I’m just glad that I’ve seen the last of an endless ascent followed by a somewhat more rapid descent.

Of the countless guests at the guest house we’re staying at, some other guy and I were the only two from here who wanted to climb the mountain on Sunday. We left early in the morning, and arrived at the start of the walk at 10am. Guides are compulsory for the expedition, and our guide was a local (as in she lived just outside the national park) woman with a name that escapes me. She’s been doing one ascent (and descent) every week for the past twelve years. That sounds like a lot, but along the way we met a guy who does one ascent and descent every day. It’s training – he carries a minimum of 30kg, and up to 50kg. He’s currently Sabah’s most decorated body builder. I think his legs were about the size of my torso.

Anyway, the walk starts easily enough – by doing downhill. After a pretty waterfall the path heads up, and following the path, so did our party of three. There are dozens of other people heading up the mountain at the same time, and just as many coming down. How hard can it be?

The total walk for the day is six kilometres. It doesn’t sound like much, and to be honest it’s not. I can and do quite happily walk about six kilometres several times a week. The six kilometres on this mountain is in another league. To begin with, the walk starts at nearly 2000m above sea level. I live only 300m above sea level. The walk is up a mountain, rather than simply around it. It’s hard work.

Every five hundred metres are small shelters, with a toilet and water tank and shelter and a bunch of people sitting around under cover complaining about the ascent, and just as many complaining about the walk down. We struggled to lunch at the 3km shelter, and wondered what was in store next.

The climb became even steeper, up rocks and steps and a rocky path through a changing environment. Rainforest became semi alpine trees – short and stunted, twisted by the wind. It was wet – pools of water lay across the path, and a mist hung in the air that enveloped everything and made trees, rocks, ropes, and us damp to the touch.

I can’t remember too much more about the walk up. It was hard work, it was very pretty, and even with a light load, I was very sore. The scenery changed almost step by step, and all around us were fascinating sights and sounds.

We reached the overnight… chalet, I guess… after 6km and about four and a half hours. The theory is to arrive early, eat early, and sleep early – to trick the body in to thinking it’s morning at 2am, so the final ascent to the summit can be commenced at 3am. The final 2km to the summit is undertaken in the dark, so the sunrise is the reward for the trek.

The Laban Rata rest house was large and comfortable and warm. Everything there had to be transported on someone’s back. Dinner for 80 people probably came up on the back of a few dozen porters. Beer cost twenty ringgit each (the place I’m staying at now sells cans for four ringgit, about $AU1.60), bottles of water (although why you’d bother I don’t know, since clean and pure water was everywhere) were ten ringgit. I didn’t bother to look at some of the heavier items. There is a helipad, but it’s only used for medical emergencies. Electricity comes from an electricity generation station at the base of the mountain, water is collected locally, and sewerage disappears down the mountain in a pipeline that’s hidden from view for most of the walk. The chalet was built in 1986, and I expect all of the material used in construction and the stuff inside now was taken up by hand, so to speak.

I ate, and went to bed early, ready to reach the top. In dorms of six persons, we had one spare bed. One was occupied by a guy from Sabah who had also been complaining about a cold, and after a brief talk to establish names, starting points, and why the hell we were both coughing and spluttering so much, we both became more determined to make it to the top.

Upon waking at 2am, I knew I wasn’t going to. My head pounded from crown to throat, I could feel my lungs aching, my body was sore – not from exhaustion, but from what I think was a combination of altitude and the cold I thought I was recovering from.

The other ill guy and I ventured down to meet our guides. One look at me and mine told me that I was not going up. To be honest, it was kind of a relief. Rather than struggle, I’d sleep – and still catch an awesome sunrise from 1km below the ideal view point. I protested, but she was adamant that I was to stay put. My sick friend started the climb.

A couple of hours later he was back in the room, worse than before he left. I was glad I didn’t try to make the summit, I probably wouldn’t have made it and was likely to have returned feeling even worse. A large number of us hung around the overnight place waiting for the sunrise, and we were all ill in some way – altitude sickness, injuries, a cold, or any number of other ailments.

My guide and friend from the hostel returned from the summit at 8, and at 9:30 we begun the 6km descent to the bus. Going down was difficult, but fast. We made good time and arrived back to the hostel (a 100km drive away) by about 2pm.

After a shower, the deposit of some laundry, I feel somewhat more alive but still very much as though I’m sick. My body is sore in the odd way that comes from a cold, although my legs and shoulders are fine (so far!), and my ear is giving me trouble – perhaps I have an ear infection? I’ll find out soon.

I’m trying to decide my next move. If I recover quickly, I’ll head from here to Singapore or KL to use it as a jumping off point for Bangkok and Laos, and I’ll probably be entering Laos this time next week. If I don’t recover quickly, I’ll return to Singapore and the place I was staying at there to spend time recovering in a less chaotic environment. We’ll see.

I’m sorting through the ton of photographs I’ve taken, so expect a new post in the next day or two with lots of photos and not much writing!