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Kinabalu
Solo Travel (Part 2)
A
Travelogue by Leif Pettersen
Posted
on March 12th, 2005
 The
next morning we convened, as ordered, at park
headquarters at 7:30AM.
With my roommates and a few other people that we absorbed at the last
second, we swelled to a group of eight people, the maximum allowable
per guide. The per-person fee for the guides go down as the size of the
group increases. If you’re alone it’s 60RM (US$16). If you nose into a
group of eight, it’s only 15RM (US$4). Seeing as how our “guide,”
Ronnie, was totally worthless, I was happy that I only dropped 15RM on
this fleecing. Ronnie got us all organized and gave us some last second
instructions. It became clear at this point that Ronnie didn’t know a
lick of satisfactory English. He had clearly memorized the bare
minimum, like his little speech before the bus, and beyond that he
could only string together a few semi-nonsensical series of words in
his effort to get a point across.
This
was not
reassuring as we were
firmly told at the briefing the night before that we needed to take
special care to follow the instructions of our guide.
Indeed, it seemed
that our safety depended on us hanging on his every move and word. I
wasn’t sure how they expected us to abide by with this as I was having
trouble following Ronnie through such simple statements as “Hello” and
“Let’s go.” If there were to be a true emergency (presumably the main
reason why he is there in the first place), effectively communicating
the details to him would have been impossible and we’d all die like
miserable dogs up there while Ronnie stood around puzzling our pleas
for help.
Additionally, now was the time
that they
decided to
present us
with a list of ailments that, if we were now or had ever
been victim
to, we should not do the climb. Call me crazy, but maybe a subject as
important as this should be broached the instant you arrive at the
park, not after you have been there for 24 hours and dropped over 200RM
getting ready for the climb. For the record, the list of aliments
included:
- Heart Disease – “The silent
killer?” How the hell
am I
supposed to know?
- Hypertension – Only
after a three
coffees
- Chronic Asthma – Er, sorta
- Peptic
Ulcer
– The what now?
- Severe Anemia – Not right now
- Epileptic
fits – Only when I dream about chasing cars
- Arthritis
– After 22 years of juggling, I’ve got joint oddities going
on that you don’t even know about
- Palpitation –
Real or
imagined?
- Hepatitis – Not yet, but I’ve still
got
three
months in Asia, so it’s only a matter of time…
- Muscular
cramps – Oh f*ck!
- Any other sickness that may be
triggered
by severe cold, exertion and high altitude – Well, gee, do you mean
something like the flu?!?!
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So
I was screwed, but I had already invested two days and over
200RM into this excursion and I wasn’t going to turn back
30 seconds
before setting off.
 On the subject of prices, Kinabalu is a
money pit like no other place in Asia. The prices at Park
Headquarters
are criminal and it gets even worse up at Laban Rata. The situation at
Laban Rata is forgivable because literally everything needs to be
carried up by porters. Porters can be seen trudging up and scurrying
down the mountain at all hours of the day. From what little we were
able to piece together from Ronnie’s halted, Tarzan explanation,
apparently these poor porters make the grueling climb from headquarters
to Laban Rata five times a week, carrying up to
30 kilos (67 lbs.) each trip. Keep in mind these tiny guys/gals only
weigh about 50/55 kilos (110/122 lbs) tops. We saw porters carrying up
cases of beer, computers, a toilet and even a flag pole. You really
need to see the state of the paths to appreciate the heroic effort that
goes into hauling up all this stuff. For comparison, I was only
carrying about five kilos when I made the climb and I nearly croaked
from the effort, but I digress…
If you
come
prepared, you should arrive at the park with a pile of snacks
(energy
bars and candy bars are best) and a reasonable amount of water. Unless
you love pain, you couldn’t possibly bring enough water with you to
keep you happy for the entire two days (I’d estimate that I went
through about five, 1.5 liter bottles of water, but remember, I was
sick and dehydrating myself on the toilet as fast as I could
re-hydrating myself with water…). Ultimately, at some point you will
have to buy their expensive water, but showing up with, say, three 1.5
liter bottles (one and some change for your night at headquarters and
the rest for the climb), will help take the sting out of buying more
water up at Laban Rata. You need to bring a pile of cash with you as
there are no ATMs or exchange places anywhere in the park. I brought
what I thought was a generous 400RM (US$105), but after two days of the
exorbitant park prices, I barely had enough money left over for bus
fare to Sandakan. Accommodations at park headquarters is 17RM per
night. A bed in an unheated hut at Laban Rata is 12RM per night. Meals
were 20-25RM at headquarters and 25-30RM at Laban Rata. Climbing permit
100RM, insurance 3.50RM, guide 15-60 RM. Water 5/10RM (small/large).
Candy bars 5RM. Renting blanket, hat, gloves, flashlight, walking
stick… 5-15RM. It adds up fast.
 After white-lying my way through the Ailments
Warning, we
were
herded onto a waiting bus and driven 20 minutes to Timpohon Gate, the
start of the climb. Just so you have full comprehension of the insanity
that we were about to embark on; the peak of Mount Kinabalu is at 4,101
meters (13,451 feet) above sea level, half the height of Mount Everest
and only slightly less than the height at which I had jumped out of a
plane the previous month. Park Headquarters/Timpohon Gate are at
approximately the 1,500 meter mark, meaning over the course of the next
22 hours, we were going to climb about 2,500 meters (8,200 feet). Our
group was as follows: Me, a Swedish couple, a Danish couple, a Czech
couple (the anti-deodorant kind we would soon learn) and a French guy.
I had been eyeing the French guy with some concern ever since our group
converged. He wasn’t packed light like the rest of us. He had his whole
fricking backpack with him. It was only half full, but still this was
not how one should pack for a 2,500 meter climb. There’s a sign posted
just on the other side of the Gate showing the Mount Kinabalu
Climbathon speed records. At the briefing, we had been shown a video of
the 2002 Climbathon, part of the High Elevation Race Series, to get us
all hyped for the journey and get a glimpse at what we were facing.
These people had to race up to the summit and then back down in one go.
 I
wouldn’t appreciate until the next day how amazing this effort was.
The woman record holder did the entire circuit in three hours and six
minutes. The man in two hours and 40 minutes. Most normal humans gasp
up to the peak in about eight cumulative hours, broken up by a 13 hour
break at Laban Rata to acclimate and nap. The tender limp from the
summit back down to the gate is usually done in about four hours. In
retrospect, these records are stupefying, to say the least. My favorite
story of the Climbathon was the year that one of the women porters,
Danny, decided to enter the race as a fluke and she f*cking won! The
other women competing were professional athletes, with lucrative
endorsement deals, who trained year-round and they were shown up by a
4”-11” unprepared porter who, if I had to guess, probably makes about
15 dollars a day. Though, granted, she did have the advantage of
knowing every pebble on that mountain, but still, classic!
It was
probably my imagination, but just as we were exiting
the bus and getting last minute provisions at the most
expensive,
scrupulously placed convenience shop in all of Asia, I could have sworn
that I felt the body aches starting somewhere in my chest, right along
the ribs. Before I could dwell on it too much we were off. I was the
oldest in the group, by 13 years (when the hell did 34 become so old??)
and those whipper-snappers started at a brisk pace. The morning had
been cold and we were all dressed pretty warmly, but the climb was
strenuous, so after only 30 minutes we were all stripped down to shorts
and t-shirts (layers is the biggest secret to conquering Kinabalu). I
was feeling very good at the beginning. The two Czechs, perhaps feeling
encouraged by the fact that the female Climbathon record holder was
their countrywoman, shot ahead, while the French guy carrying what must
have felt like a dead body, fell behind along with the
never-to-be-seen-again Ronnie.
 The Swedish and
Danish couples were also feeling a surge of energy at the beginning.
I
got left behind while I was resting and removing two shirts and my
pants, but I reeled them in soon after when their early pace finally
took its toll. After that, inconceivably, I actually led the way all
the way to lunch at the half way point. We caught and dusted the now
very stinky and exhausted Czechs at the first rest shelter.
| Being
at
the front and with the humbled Danish and Swedish right behind me, I
set an even, but slow pace. Small strides, with a deliberate and
unhurried attitude toward the steps. According to Lonely Planet,
there’s at least 2,500 steps from the Gate to Laban Rata, so I had no
intention of rushing anything. |
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