chronicles of an igorot in australia. a photoblog in parts, this is intended as a diary, travelogue, memoir, journal, palimpsest, igorot blog, accounts of misadventures, running battles or whatever it turns out to be. there might be souls out there with common interests. do post a comment.
At halfway, the pace was quite slow truly, and the going was...
not going, really.
On the trail I was humming the Beatles' song: 'Hey Jude, don't take it bad.'
Jude asked 'how far to go?'. I said: '15Ks'? She said 'Dude, that's mad.'
Now if one green bottle should accidentally fall...
The Tinongdan ricefields
Like a bridge over untroubled water.
Down by the banks of the Agno.
See the runners come and go.
On the homestretch, I encountered a road runner on the warm asphalt.
It was a four-legged creature trotting along. He looked like having a dog of a day.
These sky marathoners however were on cloud 9.
Some transport options on the banks of the Ohio,
I mean on the banks of the Agno.
I was laughing all the way to the banks, until I saw the cliffs there.
Then I started crying. 'Get me out of here.'
On the steep banks, it's best to go on foot.
Aided with hands, and ropes to boot.
Suspended - the hanging footbridges of Tinongdan county.
With breath held in suspense, I negotiated all 10 bridges of the course.
Though I preferred a bailey bridge of course.
After a suspense-filled bailey, I mean suspension bridge, I met a family of trail runners - er mountain goats. Who else would you meet on a goat track if not old Billy and Billie and their young kids Billie and Billy?
Young Buffalo Bill was separated from mum.
Volunteers and supporters were out in force on the course.
They packed the trails all the way from ili to lungsod -
from farmland to city, from Tinongdan to Lusod.
Some even lit a fire to keep warm in the morning chill.
'Nice way to warm up boys.'
Now I don't know why the chicken crossed the road,
but this group crossed the road to cheer their runner.
I prepared a trekking pole earlier and left it on a marker, for when I went back home this-a-way,
but then this polished runner flew down the trails and blew my walking stick away.
(Now my walking stick was a good pole, but I doubt if this runner's even Polish).
Some of the trails were on the open rugged cliffs. Lucky we had protection...
Yes I had put on some sun cream. I would have got burnt by the sun otherwise.
I knocked my camera on one of those poles and almost dropped it.
It would have ended up down there in the river, hundreds of meters below.
We got to the ricefields.
And gingerly crossed some more bridges.
On my way out, many a-runner, mostly of the fairer female gender, were on their way back.
This I confirmed, not from the view from behind - not butt, but from looking back.
Many a male runner did scorch a track.
After a whole day out on the trails, I finally made it back to the finish.