Mount Kinabalu, Sabah, Malaysian Borneo, July 11-13, 2010
View out the back window of the minivan as I headed for Mt. Kinabalu. Something about the dirt and the lines on the window make the van seem like a prison, with paradise just outside.
I arrived by minivan at D’Villa Rina Ria Lodge just outside the Kinabalu National Park entrance. Like Mulu, staying outside the park was a steal (MYR 30, or about $9, for a dorm bed) compared with staying in it. At the lodge I met fellow traveler Rebecca, who was also here to climb Mount Kinabalu.
Peaking at 4,095 meters (13,435 feet), the climb up Mt. Kinabalu is no cakewalk (or finger in the nose, as the French say), but neither is the ascent Herculean. Thousands of people successfully summit the mountain each year. A guide and permit are required to attempt the summit, and of course I just rocked up with no reservations.
Mt. Kinabalu, the highest mountain between the Himalayas and New Guinea, making it also one of highest mountains in Southeast Asia
As I was inquiring about the climb and discovering it was booked out, I ran into a couple, Peter and Bernadett, who had pre-booked their climb for three people. Luckily for me (but unluckily for Bernadett’s sister), Bernadett’s sister had become ill and did not make it to Borneo. The helpful park staff substituted me for Bernadett’s ill sister, and Bernadett and Peter were happy to receive my payment for her spot.
Suddenly I had to shop for climbing clothing, as I had arrived as unprepared as could be – no fleece, no shell, no warm clothing to speak of, and as I mentioned, no reservation – and the temperature at the summit could drop to freezing. The lodge where I was staying “rented” used sweaters and jackets, that is to say they sold them to you and then gave you a partial refund when you returned them (after prior renters made a habit of not returning the rented gear). I was able to suit up with fleece, a nice shell, and a new hat and gloves for about $25. Things were going swimmingly.
The daily 6 p.m. briefing by the park service on the night before the climb
Only a handful of people showed up for the 6 p.m. climb briefing. The next day at about 7:30 a.m., Bernadett, Peter, Rebecca and I checked in at park headquarters and were assigned John as our guide. I also inquired about hiring a porter. The cost worked out to about $1 per pound to hire a porter to carry stuff up the mountain, so I thought, hmmm, $175 and I could be carried up the mountain. OK, uh, $185.
It worked out to about $1 per pound to hire a porter to carry stuff up the mountain, so I thought, hmmm, $175 and I could be carried up the mountain. OK, uh, $185.
The Fellowship of the Ring – with Rebecca, Peter and Bernadett, just before beginning the hike
At 8:38 a.m., we began ascending from Timpohon Gate (1,866 meters) what seemed to be an interminable series of steps through tall trees that occasionally opened upon magnificent vistas of distant valleys and peaks. Two hours into the climb, we found ourselves in the clouds and things cooled down. We remained in the clouds for the rest of the day’s hike, reaching our base camp lodge at Laban Rata (3,272 meters) at 1:56 p.m. after just over five hours of climbing.
8:22 a.m. – Day 1 of the ascent, with Mt. Kinabalu looming in the distance
9:42 a.m.
10:50 a.m. – Ascending through clouds
Now the way it works is this: when you get your permit to climb, you also pay for your guide, your overnight accommodation at Laban Rata, insurance, and 4-5 meals – lunch on the trail, dinner at the lodge, an early breakfast, a later breakfast (hobbits would love this), and another lunch back at the bottom of the mountain – and the whole thing comes to about $200. It’s a definite splurge, but worth it.
Laban Rata is quite a kick in the pants, because you arrive in the early afternoon, check in (it has a great mountain chalet feel to it), and have nothing to do all afternoon but socialize and eat – two of my favorite activities. The downside is that you begin the second half of the ascent at 2 a.m. So I set a goal of going to sleep by 6 p.m., which of course I missed by several hours.
The lodge had a nice restaurant. Why do restaurants need to display these goofy chefs? From what I could see, the people in the kitchen were teenagers likely earning a dollar a day, and they had a hell of a commute (since the only way to the lodge is via a 5-hour hike). They were not goofy gnome-like French chefs.
Dinner was a fantastic all-you-can-eat affair, and of course I showed no restraint, ignoring all the conventional wisdom about eating light at altitude, eating light before you go to sleep, and especially eating light before you go to sleep at altitude because it’s hard to fall asleep at altitude. By 8 p.m., Rebecca, Bernadett, Peter, and I had squeezed ourselves into the walk-in closet that passed for our 4-bunk bedroom. Needless to say, I barely slept.
1:30 a.m. came much too quickly. I showed my spirit and commitment to the climb by being the last one up and missing first breakfast. Just after 2 a.m., I downed a cup of tea, turned on my headlamp, and stepped into the darkness to summit Mt. Kinabalu.
Day 2 of the ascent – starting the second leg of our ascent to the summit just after 2:30 a.m. with only head-lamps to light our way
That little circle of light in front of my face was my constant friend for the next four hours. After a crowded ascent of slippery wooden stairs shrouded in mist, the trail of lights fanned out like a pearl necklace over the bare granite face of the mountain. Although the granite didn’t seem steep and the darkness obscured any sense of altitude, we grasped ropes for part of the climb and occasionally used them to pull ourselves along. As I would learn on the descent, there’s a reason you do this in the dark; not seeing the steepness of the granite and altitude of the climb is of great comfort at this point in the ascent.
The last kilometer to the summit was the steepest – crowded with boulders and uncrowded with precious oxygen molecules. Lonely Planet only somewhat exaggerated the scene as people reduced to crawling breathlessly on their hands and knees. I was surprised not to be having trouble breathing, as I had divined that the only way I was going to make it to the top was to take deep breaths and shallow steps. I was the slowest in our group of four – not surprising, as I was the last to register for the climb and the last out of bed at 2 a.m. – but our fantastic guide John stuck with me the whole way, showing me the easiest path to the top.
At about 5:46 a.m., I caught the first glimpse of dawn’s early light. As I reached the boulders around the summit, the sun rose like a gentle breath. Just before 6:20 a.m., breathless and reduced to crawling over the last few boulders, I reached the summit of Mt. Kinabalu.
6:20 a.m. – I summited after more than 3.5 hours of climbing in mostly darkness. The elevation change during the second leg of the climb went from 3272m to 4095m.
If the climb didn’t kill me, the excitement was about to. My heart was racing as fast as the view was breathtaking. I couldn’t relax, and so I paced in circles for a few moments, trying to calm myself. I had reached what was undoubtedly the highpoint of my Southeast Asian travels in more ways than one. The feeling recalled my completion of the Inca Trail some 16 years earlier, sheer exhaustion and exhilaration, like the opposite flavors of sour and sweet in Southeast Asia cuisine, opposing sensations captured in a solitary bite of life.
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