Gigi takes on Mt Kinabalu

Mt Kinabalu is high, very high.  In fact it is the highest mountain in South East Asia standing 4,101 metres tall.  

A view from the bottom

I arrive in the stinkingly sticky country of Borneo, unfit and with only sandshoes to make the climb, and well, I feel pretty worried!!! 

Mr G takes me on sight seeing trips and shopping expeditions to soothe my nerves, but the plane flight to Sandakan on the other side of the island only heightens my paranoia.   

We have a perfect view of the huge ragged mountain range as we look left from the window.  Yes folks.  Mt Kinabalu in all its glory rises high above the clouds. 

I sit glued to the window and shaking with fear because I know I plan to stand on the very top of it.

 
A view from the plane

Let me tell you though, the trip to Sandakan was worth every minute despite the nervous palpatations.  Mr G and I visit the Orang-utan Sanctuary. 

Ever the comedians, these cheeky primates put on a show!  One even rips a can of Fanta from the hands of a tourist, races up a tree, pulls the ring tag and proceeds to drink. 

Rehabilitation in a unique form

We feel that this sort of rehabilitation is going a little too far!!! 

Back to Kota Kinabalu though!  This bustling city is the capital of the State of Sabah, Malaysia and whilst there is plenty to entertain you around town, we are here for some mountain climbing.

I am unprepared, unfit and afraid of the 17 kilometre round trip, but I think I must possess a little streak of determination that surprises even me.

Headquarters,then take-off

We arrive at the Park Headquarters where we are introduced to Banati our guide.  I am sure he sizes us up and feels he is in for a long two days.  Steve, a fit looking American who works in the Iran, is our other climbing buddy. 

We haul on our day packs, grab our water bottles and camera and at Timpohon Gate, we start the trail to the summit. 

Funnily enough the first part of the walk is a descent down a long flight of stairs.  And if you think this is tough, the rest of the 8.5 kilometres is up and that is beyond challenging!!! 

On the only flat bit of track

The path is a goat track, sometimes with steps that require a full stretch of the legs to push up and over.  Exotic trees and interesting plants such as the Pitcher Plants (a meat eating plant) line the way and periodically give way to spectacular vistas. 

Also along the route, every so often, there a small thatch roof huts.  Each hut has a tank with drinking water, a basic toilet and scores of very inquisitive squirrels.

The beautiful Pitcher Plant

By the time we stagger into hut number three, I am completely exhausted. 

I can not carry my back pack another step.  I look weakly at Mr G and say “Well, that’s it!   It stays here in this hut”. 

You can see the look of despair in the eyes of our wiry old guide Banati who hauls my pack over his own.  You can tell he knew he would be up for this. 

Banati, the backpack is all yours!

We trudge upwards and onwards through heavily wooded mountainsides until we reach an open landscape revealing glorious scenery. 

Then, as it does up high, the mist rolls in; the clouds burst open, and down comes the rain. 

As I slide along the track in my no grip sandshoes, I juggle a small umbrella in one hand and the video camera in the other. 

We enter levels of altitude which are foreign to me and I am not ashamed to say I huff and puff.  “Will I ever get there” I sigh.

We are soaked, steaming with sweat, it is freezing cold and dark. 

Banati has no English and we never know how far it is to our destination.  Details like this make a difference in my book!!!! 

Eventually he points frantically towards some lights and we arrive at Laban Rata. 

A sight for sore eyes

We have successfully, abet slowly, completed the first part of our climb in about seven and a half hours. 

You simply don’t know how relieved I am to arrive and be welcomed inside this cosy mountain hut.  There are quite a few people staying the night in this basic accommodation and probably arrived hours before us! 

We wash and eat and head for bed.

It's better than a tent!

The Room!  It is small and has six bunks and unfortunately the snorer from hell is a bunk dweller. 

Snoring at decibels beyond imaginings, the rest of us lie awake and tense most of the night. 

When he leaves at 2 am for the final assault (and that was not by me!!)we manage an hour of desperate shut eye before Banati bangs on the door.  Within ten minutes we are out the door and in the dark.  

We are climbing in the early morning so we can reach the summit Low’s Peak, for sunrise. 

About five minutes floundering along in the dark and negotiating the pathway with a small torch, I ask Mr G if he is carrying the water. 

Great start, neither of us has water.

 We are about to climb two kilometres up into altitude without water.  This is not good.  As I slip along the rocks and trip over steps, the video camera I am carrying begins to weigh as much as a brick.  I turn to Mr G “I am leaving this on a rock” I say.  In the faint light I can just make out the look in Banati’s eyes. I know he is not happy but he picks up the video camera.  “This man will get a big tip from me” I mutter under my breath. 

I am a bit concerned about the water aspect and after walking for about an hour or so we come to a stream. 

With absolute and total disregard for tropical bacteria and amoebas, I drink to my hearts content.  I’ll worry about the consequences later!!!

If you haven’t been in altitude it is hard to describe. Your heart beats wildly and exhaustion rapidly sets in. You breathe in and out at double the pace. Everything you do is an effort and grim determination becomes your friend.

Luckily someone suggested long pants!

We struggle up rocky outcrops with the aid of thick rope.  We reach slabs of sloping granite and I ask Banati “How far?”  Now he must have known those words surely!! 

He points to the furthermost point we can see. 

The granite slabs

We are way above the clouds by now as we follow the ropes snaking across the granite. 

The granite provides my sandshoes with a mirror surface to contend with.  I am desperately thirsty and have trouble staying on my feet. 

We see people filing back past us now, so we know we must be close.  It has been hours since we started and I am sure we must be the last to summit for the day. 

Banati is pointing and nodding towards a huge pile of jagged boulders and it seems to take forever to get to the base of them. 

To the top

Banati smiles then he grabs me by the hand and starts running flat out upwards.  He darts from one boulder to the next with me dangling from his hand. 

I am trying to make rock contact with my slipping feet and I can’t draw a breath from the exertion.  I think I am going to die there and then from lack of oxygen. 

And after what seems like my entire life, we reach the top of Low’s Peak. Banati is smiling, he has done his job.  He literally dragged me to the top. 

I look around in awe.  Steve greets me with a smile and a hug and then points out the sheer 2 kilometre drop to the right of Low's Peak. 

It is the notorious Low's Gully and while it would be a quick way down, which is looking like a good option at this point, the likelihood of survival would be remote.  I pass on that shortcut!! 

Steve says “Where is your husband?”  I scan around and I can see his hat right down at the bottom of the boulders, not the Gully!!! 

Whilst I spend a good 15 minutes enjoying my victory, Mr G inches his way upwards towards the peak.   By the time he reaches the top, everyone has left the summit except for Banati, Steve and me.

On the way down the views ease the pain

The views are special.  We see the sun but it rose a long time before we made it to the top.  The clouds are now rolling across so we can’t stay long. 

Eight and half kilometres straight down is not a good thought at that point as our legs are shaking masses already. 

Down we go over the boulders and back out onto the granite. 

This is the moment when everything goes wrong for me. 

This is the moment when a combination of tiredness, exhaustion, excitement, shaking legs, sandshoes and the slippery granite, combine together to create a disaster. 

I slip out of control in my totally inappropriate footwear.   With a look of sheer terror, I career across the granite slabs towards a perilous drop. 

I take the option of stopping and land excruciatingly on my knees. 

Imagine slamming the car door across all of your fingers – transfer that sort of pain to your knees and there you have it.  Tears well in my eyes as the pain spreads out agonisingly over my entire body.

Banati’s face holds a look of panic.  He can’t believe his bad luck.

For five minutes I am afraid to move.  I contemplate the situation which at this point seems dire.  What if something is broken? 

At the very least I will have black and blue kneecaps and a long downhill walk on already quaking legs. 

I gingerly stand up, thank goodness I seem OK.  Banati insists I hang onto him until we get off the granite slabs. 

We wend our way back to Laban Rata and pick up our back packs. Banti automatically takes mine and we begin the decent. 

Shaky legs turn to jelly legs and my bruised knees are not fairing well but rather surprisingly Mr G and Steve decide they are happy to go at my pace and lock in behind me. 

Finally, finally we reach the bottom of the mountain. 

Mr G hands Banati a wad of notes.  He deserved every single one of them. 

Mr G, Steve and I down a couple of beers to relax our aching muscles.

It's a long long way

Banati hands us our beautiful certificates to prove we have truly climbed to the top. 

Yes, Mr G and I are numbered in the book register at Mr Kinabulu as successful summit climbers Nos. 70713 and 70715.

PS I am sure pure euphoria took away a lot of the pain in the following days, but my knees have never been the same!!!! 
But I wouldn’t have it any other way!!! 

I count this walk as one of my significant lifetime achievements as I drew on strengths I had no idea I possessed. 

And by the way, a Malaysian man named Biun has run up and back down Mt Kinabalu 100 times and once held the record for the fastest ascent and descent at 2 hours and 55 minutes.  His record has since been beaten but not by us!!!

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