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"Only 5 more minutes (and you will be at the top)" said John, our guide, encouraging me to take the few extra steps. We had been trudging along on a cold, barren, rocky plain for the better part of an hour. It was almost 6 a.m and in the early morning light the surroundings appeared starkly beautiful. It felt as if we were on an alien planet mostly seen in the Sci-Fi movies. However at that moment the only thing in my thoughts was the last few steps to the summit of the 4101 meter high Mount Kinabalu.
I first read about Mt. Kinabalu sometime last year while browsing through a book in the local library. It was described as the highest mountain in South East Asia, yet accessible to the average hiker. It sounded very much like the 'trekking' we used to do in the Sahyadris in my college days. But minor things like change of jobs intervened and it was only in May this year that we found time (and 'resources' ) for the trip.
After getting our Malaysian tourist visas (an adventure in itself !),
booking
accommodation, plane tickets and buying goodies ranging from MagLite torch
holders to Leatherman supertools ( this is the kind of shopping I like
), we reached Kota Kinabalu on May 1, 1997. After a two and a half hour
bus journey (a tip for the would be visitor: don't take the minibus
- no larger than a van - that your cabbie very helpfully arranges for you.
Take a bigger bus - actually a mini-bus - it's cheaper, more comfortable
and you can also watch True Lies on video) we reached the Kinabalu
National Park. The Park is very well planned and the staff are extremely
polite and efficient. We arranged for our guide and climbing permits and
after a short walk through the jungle, retired to our cabin. At this time
the mountain was completely shrouded in clouds and had we not known it
was there, we would have never guessed the scale of those majestic peaks
hidden by the clouds. Just after sunset, the clouds lifted for a few minutes
and we got our first glimpse of the mountain. It looked daunting enough,
but we decided that tomorrow was another day and slept fitfully.
The
next day saw us start our climb by 7:30 in the morning. The trail to the
summit starts from Timpohon gate. 
Just before the start, our guide very innocently pointed out the board
recording the fastest time for reaching the summit and getting back. It
is an incredible 2 hours and 53 minutes! The length of the entire trail
to the summit is 8.5 km. and it starts at a height of about 1900 m. The
summit trail is well marked and eased out in places with man-made steps
and even wooden ladders. However, it is quite steep right from the start.
A walking stick (or even ski poles that some Japanese were carrying ) would
prove quite useful, but we did not have the benefit of one. The mountain
and hence everything that grows there is sacred to local Kadazan people.
As a consequence, there is no litter on the mountain. We did not see any
wood-cutting either. At the start of the trail the vegetation is that in
a rain-forest. I had never seen so many ferns in my life. They have typical
fractal shapes and look like a living proof of 'chaos' in nature. 
As we climbed higher, the trees grew more gnarled. At a height of about
2600 m. is the region which abounds with pitcher plants. The pitcher plant
is a carnivor. 
The end of each leaf is modified into a pitcher - a cup containing
a liquid which attracts insects. Once inside the pitcher, it is impossible
for the insects to get out. As they drown and dissolve in the liquid, the
nutrients are absorbed by the plant.
By this time we had been climbing for almost 4 hours. The air had grown
perceptibly thinner and we had to rest up every now and then. Almost all
the other climbers were also in the same boat. We blamed our exhaustion
on the rucksacks we were carrying and kept plodding on. Of course, we were
routinely being overtaken by the locals who were carrying loads of upto
25 Kg. - including things like cooking gas cylinders - to the Laban Rata
rest house, our overnight stop. A sign by the trail said that we were in
the orchid region. We saw a few growing by the path, but were too exhausted
to explore for them by going off the track. By now, all our attention was
focussed on reaching Laban Rata. 
I was seriously pondering whether it would have been better to have swallowed
my pride and to have hired a porter to carry our rucksacks. However the
welcome sight of the gleaming white and yellow structure of Laban Rata
gave us our second wind. It was past 2 pm. when we reached Laban Rata.
This rest house offers all the comforts to the weary climber, from beds
to food to even room heaters. They have a power line running upto the rest
house, but don't seem to have any electrical cookers!. The rest house was
also supposed to have hot water, but we did not see any evidence of it.
For the hardier souls, accommodation is also available in the Sayat-Sayat
huts, which are about a 1000 feet higher up. They have no electricity and
other facilities are also very basic. For once, I was quite happy to have
chosen the softer option. We had booked the VIP room - well, nothing
else was available - but were immediately brought back to our senses when
we realised that it had grown quite cold outside and our room heater was
not working. Enquiries revealed that it would start 'automatic' and being
rather skeptical about it, we put on all our warm clothes and went to bed.
To our surprise the heater did start at about 7:30 p.m. but we were to
enjoy its warmth for only a few hours more.
We woke up by 1:15 a.m. and after a light breakfast - the canteen at Laban Rata opens from 2 am. to 3 am. ! - were on our way towards the summit by 2:30 am. The temperature was down to the freezing point. It was pitch dark and torches were absolutely essential. The trail was mostly wooden ladders which seemed to stretch away as far into the darkness as the eyes could see. But this time there were more frequent stops as we were climbing in single file and had to stop whenever someone stpped to catch their breath. After about an hour's climb, we came to a rock face, where the only way to climb was to grab hold of the rope already tethered there and follow the person ahead of you. The Sayat-Sayat huts were just at the top of this rock face.
The light had gradually become strong enough for us to make out the outlines
of the peaks towering above. But our destination was not among them. After
another rope assisted climb up a rock-face, we reached the so called Summit
Plateau. The mountain air was crisp but really thin. One had to climb slowly
to avoid getting too exhausted. The time required to get back one's breath
was getting longer and longer. 
I stopped thinking about everything else and concentrated only on the next
step. The Summit Plateau makes one re-adjust the definition of a plateau
from a flat plain to a slightly less than steep climb. But
now our goal was in sight though it looked agonizingly far away. The summit
plateau is a barren rocky plain with only a few stunted plants managing
to cling to the cracks among the rocks. There is no soil as everything
gets washed away in the torrential rains. The last few meters to the summit
were slow and exhausting but exhilarating at the same time.
We managed to reach the peak just in time to watch the sunrise. On a
clear day one can see the sun's rays lighting up the land right from the
coast-line and racing towards the summit. However, we were not so lucky.
The land below us was carpeted in a thick blanket of clouds. 
But the view was stunning enough. Once atop the summit, everyone went about
the serious business of clicking 'Patel' snaps. We also merrily participated
in this activity. In fact, we had to wait for our turn to get behind the
board proclaiming that we were on Low's Peak. The peak is named after Sir
Hugh Low, who made the first recorded attempt to scale the peak in 1851.
He never made it to the top, but got the peak named after him anyway. The
peak is sacred to the Kadazan people as they believe it to be the resting
place of their dead. The summit plateau is ringed with 4000 m. high peaks.
St. John's Peak at 4097 m. is almost as high as the 4101 m . high Low's
Peak. It looked within easy reach from the summit plateau, but we were
in no mood to even attempt it. 
To
the right of Low's Peak is the notorious Low's Gully. It drops a sheer
1 mile. In 1993, a team of British soldiers abseiled down the gully. Their
original plan was to make it to the base of the mountain within a week
but they spent almost a month in the uncharted jungles - later described
as something out of the 'Lost World' - below. In the end they were rescued
by a Malaysian mountain rescue team helicopter. 
We left the summit as it started getting a bit crowded. Going downhill looked easy. We made it back to Laban Rata in a couple of hours and after another well deserved breakfast started on our way back. It was soon apparent that going down was the killer app as far as our knees were concerned. I wanted to try out my time tested strategy of running down the slope rather than walking down, but by then Veena had already started limping. Labouriously we made our way down. As if to distract us from the pain, it started raining. Fortunately our plastic ponchos stood the test.
Difficult to believe as it was, we were back at the Park Headquarters by 2:30 pm., collecting our certificates - yeah, you get one after paying 2 Ringgit - and buying souvenir T-shirts in the It's hard to be humble vein. We did not linger but proceeded to Poring, some 35 km. away, where they have a hot water spring. The hot, sulphur enriched water smelt of rotten eggs, but felt wonderful on our aching limbs. Poring also has a tree canopy, where one walks on rope bridges strung high up on the trees, but it had closed down by the time we got there.
We were back in Singapore by the next evening, limping like two dopes who had just come back after climbing the highest peak in south-east Asia and were thinking that climbing Mt. Everest would not be all that difficult!
June 1997
