Sewahon First Ascent

              Summiting South Face Peak on August 29, 1999 gave us many reasons to feel euphoric. Vindicating our failure in the first attempt in the previous year, this successful climb is extraordinary by Philippine standards in several respects. This climb was achieved by a lean unguided climbing party composed of only three members - Dennis Ella (the author), Pedro Palabrica and Mariebelle "Belle" Porras. On its intrinsic merit, the climb was a difficult one. With the exception of the time devoted to reconnaissance and the descent, approaching the base of the mountain from the last barrio accessible to public transport took 1 1/2 days and the climb proper covered another 1 1/2 days. Our route of ascent, the Naathagan Buttress, is a steep ridge with an almost impassable growth and it is strewn with huge boulders of rocks, one of which demanded a modicum of technical climbing. Significantly, this climb on a peak which is known to the locals as Makawili (it means entralling) is a breakthrough of sort. It is the first on the peak (about 4,700 ft.) that is feared by the locals for its reputation as a mari-it or inhabited by the spirits.
              Nevertheless, the ascent is just the mere half of the climb and we discovered that the descent is the more difficult part of it. In fact, we learned that the descent is a harrowing experience that for a time we accepted the folly that is mountaineering.
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               Scarcely had we touched the peak when we immediately searched for a descent route. We had spent much of our water supply when we bivouacked on the buttress as an exigency move. Meanwhile, Pedro and Belle protested when I proposed to take back our ascent route.
                Amidst the tropical vegetation and fog confining our visibility to mostly ten meters, we found out that looking for another route was a difficult proposition. At one time, we came out from the forest to watch helplessly from the precarious top of the 3,500-foot wall of the South Face. Confused, we could not espy the line of either the South Ridge or any other negotiable route.
               Loosing the daylight, we were stranded on the the adjoining summit-ridge, of Mt. Silay. Luckily, we were able to procure beforehand a water supply from a strange brook (in a high altitude and on a narrow depression unbelievably able to support one).
               By the fourth day, we felt commited for a northeast detour. This would entail not going back to our trailhead in Gawahon and doing a traverse across a secluded virgin forest , one that may have not been seen by any man before. The uppermost catchment of Sicaba-Wala, this region earned from us the name Kagang-Bukay which means a white mountain-crab, a freshwater crab we saw in this place.
             Canyoning over the narrow valley of Kagang-Bukay enabled us to rapidly decrease elevation but it exposed us to the constant danger of slipping on its slick rocks. Aside from that, we had to negotiate down its several falls. Once, we climbed down on the steep bank beside a 60-foot falls. Eventually, we approached another falls, one whose magnitude was beyond anything we had imagined. It was an 800-foot falls dropping on the face of a giant gorge. Even with our 150-foot kernmantle, we had no chance of getting down it alive.
             Sticking to a northeasterly course, we scrambled up the steep slope of the right-bank after taking an early lunch and packing four liters of water. After one hour we touched the ridge and proceeded in tracking it down in the hope of finding a negotiable slope down the gorge.
            Eventually, the ridge narrowed and its tree cover is replaced by scrub. We learned only later our true predicament on the ridge when for a short while the fog vanished, extending our visibility beyond our prevailing 5-meter vision. We were on top of a sharp ridge we christened as Bakiras Ridge. The left-side of Bakiras plunges 2,000 ft. down to the bottom of the gorge while the right-side, the steeper side, drops to the bottom of a giant chasm. The chasm is formed by Bakiras Ridge, the South Ridge and the southern face of a mountain that we came to know later as the dreaded Sewahon. Bakiras Ridge which is ruggedly level points westward before turning northward to connect with the South Ridge of Sewahon.
           Partly blocked from view by the bulk of Sewahon, the northeast plains of Negros Island is visible to the northeast of Bakiras. Our objective is to get down to the plains and, ultimately, to experience again the amenities of civilized life - the things we missed while spending days that seemed like months in the forest. We could get there by climbing Sewahon and going down its East Ridge. Before we could get to Sewahon however, we must first hurdle the juggernaut that is Bakiras Ridge.
          Bakiras Ridge (from bakiras which means abrasions from thorns) spans to only about four kilometers (about one hour for an easy hike). However, it is covered by a scrub predominated by bariw, a shrub with the leaf of a pineapple and a stalk which is both sturdy and supple. Going through the bariw tangle requires nimbleness and a sustaining strength for one needs to push stalks downward, sideways or upward to go through its gauntlet. As lead, I needed to leave my backpack, make a semblance of a trail from 10 to 15 meters, return to fetch my load and repeat the process where it ended all over again. Consequently, we agonized from a snail-paced movement , forcing us to bivouac on its exposed ridge without any decent spot to set up the tent. Wind-chill factor plus the rain brought the temperature outside the tent to something like 5 degrees Celsius. Fatigue enabled us to summon sleep despite of our muscle-aching contorted positions.
            Before we could go near the South Ridge on the fifth day, we encountered a ridge section that broke our nerves. About 25 feet in length, it is barely a foot in width. Even if we attempt to crawl over it, we faced the great chance to topple over its drop-offs from any minor vertical misalignment of our backpack to our body. (Our load had grown heavy from increasing number of wet clothes.) We decided to negotiate over the face of the less steep side of the ridge - to the left. For footholds and handholds, we had the sturdy stalk of shrubs and the sickly-thin tree trunks, about half an inch in diameter, stunted by the arid soil.
            When we struggled up the South Ridge after lunchtime, we had already run out of water and, most alarmingly, of the chance to go home on time as expected by our families.
            Uncharacteristically steep, the South Ridge strained our forearms from scrambling. Our only compensation there was that it is covered by palms, not by the abominable bariw. Not a long time, however, we encountered the worst fear of our lives when we approached a segment of the narrow ridge which was scraped even thinner by a landslide on the left side of the ridge. For the first time, I thought of going back. To where, I didn't know. For his part, Pedro blurted out curses to deflect his fears that supplanted his franrtic need to go home on that very day. Belle looked inscrutable. However, I know that instance would be another cause of her nightmare displayed by the spasmodic jerking of her elbow in the dead of night. With the rain and the howling wind, we could imagine the inner turmoil of a climber who is traversing a Himalayan ridge covered by unstable ice and snow. Any misstep would send us hurtling down to oblivion.
               Fighting over our fears, we skirted the edge of the loose denuded earth of the landslide by passing at the very lip of the drop-off. At one point, we nervously kept our guard from tripping on bariw stalk while staring down at the yawning drop below our feet.
             Thereafter, the ascent became a maniacal race to the summit. As the angle increased, we made frequent use of our hands to pull our bodies up with the added weight of our loads. Eventually, we touched the summit at 5:00 p.m. A place of desolation, the summit thrives with palms and decaying stumps of pine trees covered by a black moss.
              Against the protestation of Pedro to go immediately down the East Ridge, I imposed the decision to bivoauc on the summit. It turned out as a wise decision for had we pursued a hasty descent we would be caught by nightfalll on a narrow ridge with as steep angle, providing no spot to set up the tent.
            Again, we succeeded in having a warm and cozy tent but there were a few hitches. We had to scrimp on food to last another day; with no more gasoline, we experimented on kerosene for fuel to our stove; most urgently, we didn't have a single drop of water for supper. In answer to our prayers, the rain poured at 10:00 p.m. Thus, with rainwater, we enjoyed a supper of oatmeal at eleven in the evening.
           As an anti-climax, the descent on the sixth day was not spared from a series of relentless heartbreaks. The East Ridge led us to the top edge of a 120-foot falls, an unforging dead-end. Ever resourceful, we touched down in a village in Sewahon #3 at around 3:00 p.m. and saw faces of people other than our own. While munching bread (our lunch) purchased from a barrio store, we had to hike 14 kms. along the dirt road until 7:00 p.m. before we could catch a ride on a tricycle for Fara-on. Frustrated anew in our bid to be home on that day, we didn't catch the last trip of the Ceres bus for Victorias City by the highway in Fara-on. Left with no other option, we slept in the wating shed and waited for the first trip at four in the morning of the seventh day.

                                                                                  Post Script
           Right in Fara-on, Pedro talked seriously of laying down mountaineering for at least three months. On hearing, I smiled for I couldn't grapple what he had been through internally to make him set aside, even temporarily, a profession he loves so much. A day later, I comprehended his feelings when, lying on my bed at home, I was assailed by the fears we had in the mountains. For weeks, the three of us unanimously indulge in splurging on food, perhaps to cope up with the several pounds we lost during our travails. More accurately, however, we must be experiencing a psychological reaction - rewarding ourselves for surviving the nightmare of our adventure.
         Sewahon, we learned from an ex-NPA commander and from other sources, has been unscaled or so until our incidental ascent of it on August 31, 1999. Ironically, it rises at a modest elevation similar to South Face Peak, far from the league of Philippine giants like Mt. Apo (9,706 ft.), Mt. Pulog (9,610 ft.) and Mt. Halcon (8,485 ft.). Physically, Sewahon, oftently clad in mist, is a natural wall with its forbidding slopes - sheer mountain-walls and precipitous ridges. Except on its lower slopes, Sewahon is bereft of hardwood and other forest products to lure the enterprising loggers and forest poachers - the mangangayam and mangunguway. Psychologically, Sewahon is the abode of the guardian spirits, feared for their frivolity and vindictiveness. On reflection, Sewahon is the tangible representation of the human expression of marvel.