Standing 664 meters above sea level, Pico de Loro is the highest mountain in Cavite. It may not be as mighty as Mt. Apo, as mystical as Mt. Banahaw, or as legendary as Mt. Makiling, but Pico de Loro harbors an adventure that truly delights seasoned mountaineers and first-timers alike.Pico de Loro means Parrot's Peak. It got its name from the peculiar rock structure found very near its summit. Commonly called the rock, the beak, the head, or the totem, the four- to five-storey high structure offers an exhilarating experience for those who dare conquer their fears by climbing its top. And I'm proud to say that I'm among those few who made it to the top.
Of course I must admit that it wasn't a breeze for me, especially that I have fear of heights and am not at all an expert rock climber. Well, I wanted to take sports climbing as my PE in UP but, unfortunately, I always ran out of slots. Nonetheless, climbing an actual rock without prior training proved to be a more exciting experience.
It was a sunny Sunday morning when I, together with some friends, drove towards the mountainous region of Ternate in Cavite where the Pico de Loro is located. Along the way and very near the starting point of the trek, we passed by the famed and utterly mysterious Magnetic Road, which is part of the highway that traverses the hilly terrain of Ternate. Motorists are greeted by the dilapidated road sign saying "Magnetic Road: Accident Prone Area" or something to that effect. Exactly why or how the phenomenon occurs I don't know, but I'm critical about it's being magnetic. Maybe it's just some kind of illusion. But interestingly enough, while on the downhill portion of the magnetic road, we stopped our engine and found our vehicle moving uphill. It was weird, and totally violated the law of gravity. But I still doubt the existing rumors unless I'll hear scientists explaining to me the cause of such a phenomenon.
Trekking Pico de Loro lasts for about, on the average, three hours. We started hiking at 10 a.m. after parking our vehicle just beside the mothballed and deserted DENR office. The area is a national park and is thus a protected environment. But the sorry state of the office tells visitors that the government might not be at all serious with the implementation. Worse, I even heard sounds of chain saws echoing in the forest when I was at the mountain's peak.
The beginning of the trail led the group to a patch of land under a reforestation project. It was nice to know that some groups, including students from La Salle, are aiming to plant a million trees in the area. My concern though is that they should plant trees endemic to the area like the narra, apitong, and yakal for doing so would restore the original forest and thus make it conducive for the original flora and fauna.
During the first hour we skirted the mountain, passing through sloping hills, patches of farm lands, dirt roads, horses that got in the way (beware of getting behind them: their kicks are fatal), dogs that bark so loud (but don't bite at all), and the base camp where we were suppose to pay our registration (I was asking, What for? I suppose it's for the trail upkeep. I do hope they use the contribution justly) and which signaled the start of the uphill trail.
As the group went along, we encountered familiar sightings common to other mountains that we've climbed before. There were long, thin, crawling bamboo branches (or twigs? I'm not sure though with the term since bamboos are grasses) that dangles along the path reminescent of the forest of Mt. Maculot where I was lost last year. Then there where towering yet surprisingly slim trees trying to compete with other trees for sunlight, hence forming a green canopy that leave the forest floor cool and dark. Butterflies abound, though not the brightly colored ones excellent for butterfly farm business. We also saw beautiful and unique flowers which, to science-oriented people like me, may definitely find delight.
The mountain's peak is covered by knee-high grass that turns golden brown during summer. Hence, our final ascent was like walking through an aisle - albeit abruptly inclining - laid out with a golden carpet. Along the way we encountered fellow mountaineers on their way down and sliding - and I mean literally - on the grass-covered slope. And that, I realized, proved a real treat after and hour or so marveling at nature's beauty at the peak.
Upon reaching the peak, we were rewarded with a marvelous 360-degree panorama of the surrounding terrain, including a breath-taking view of the mouth of Manila Bay and that of the fine beaches of the protruding peninsulas of the Cavite coast line (Puerto Azul looked like stones throw away from the peak).
But that was not all for the peak was but mere appetizer for the utterly adventurous trekker. The rock totem, standing at the edge of the ravine a few meters down the peak on the other side of the mountain, was the ultimate prize. At first, most of us harbored hesitation and fears of climbing it for one wrong step was enough to send us hundreds of meters down the thick forest - and that would definitely be a disaster!
However, courage conquered our fear and teamwork brought us all to the top. For my part, the thought that others could make it propelled me to muster all the strength and daring I had to climb as well.
Luckily, we didn't have to go straight up the totem as seen from the peak for there was an easier way to get on top through its other side - and I mean easy by the standards of an experienced climber. I will no longer talk further about how I got to the top; all I can say is that it took me some time and some patience on the part of my companions.
But what's worth telling is that I made it to the top!
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