1967: Mt. Kinabalu
Kuala Lumpur -> 2. Singapore -> 3. Kuching -> 4. Miri -> 5. Brunei -> 6. Lawas -> 7. Kota Kinabalu -> Ranau -> Mt Kinabalu
Kuala Lumpur -> 2. Singapore -> 3. Kuching -> 4. Miri -> 5. Brunei -> 6. Lawas -> 7. Kota Kinabalu -> Ranau -> Mt Kinabalu
In April of 1967 I visited Len in Borneo, and along with several other Peace Corp Volunteers, climbed Mt. Kinabalu. At 13,435 feet, it is the highest mountain in Southeast Asia, and we had decided it needed to be conquered.
Mart Lind (another volunteer), and I took the night train from Kuala Lumpur to Singapore, and shopped for about 15 minutes before jumping on the SS Kinabalu Friday morning. I brought with me a small bag of clean clothes, and a very large stereo tape recorder for big Len, who was slowly going insane sitting beside 100 hours of recorded music, and a recorder which wouldn’t accept the tapes. The SS Kinabalu took two days and three nights to reach Kuching, the capital of Sarawak, where we were joined by another volunteer, David Almquist; we three stayed on board another day and night to reach Miri by Tuesday afternoon, where we disembarked. The trip by freighter along the coast was quite magical, with the thick jungles of Borneo always in sight. I was reminded of the stories of Somerset Maugham.
Greek boats are nothing compared with the SS Kinabalu. Did a Greek boat ever have 200 pigs traveling on deck, drugged with opium to keep them quiet and happy? They were hosed down every day, with the few that didn't make it tossed overboard. We slept on deck in hammocks next to the pigs, only slightly more comfortable than they. To help pass the time, Mart entertained us with his unique ability to squirt jets of saliva from his mouth's saliva glands. But the sea was calm, the nights, beautiful, and the other passengers, fascinating, to say the least. It was great fun.
Several of the Kinabalu conquerors, including Joe Clack, Mart Lind, and David Armstrong.
We stayed in Miri about three days with some volunteers, eating good food and sleeping late, and then took a series of buses, ferries, and boats to reach Brunei town, capital of one of the all-time loser countries. Take away the oil, and Brunei dries up and blows away. Even leave the oil, and you don’t have a very improved situation. But the central mosque is rather fabulous, (made out of imported Italian marble at an unbelievably cost), the "Kampung Ayer", with its hundreds of homes built over the bay on stilts, unique to my experience, and the beer is duty-free. Next morning, we took a long speedboat ride across Brunei Bay and up the Lawas river, and there was Big Len, standing before the spanking new Lawas Secondary School. Yada yada. Brothers reunited in the tropics. Unfortunately, Buff the water buffalo ran away the previous week, so no kerbau to ride on. Lawas is a lovely little town on one of the most gorgeous rivers you have ever seen, even by Borneo standards, populated by all sorts of Chinese, a few Malays, and lots of Muruts (Len can tell you more about them than I can). Len’s school is really a marvel: shiny and new on a hill, freshly cut from the jungle, with facilities equal to any I have seen in Malaya. He looked very healthy and very well-adjusted, and I’m afraid he may spent three years in Malaysia, too. Anyway, no need to worry about the big fella, on any account. He and the job are made for each other.
We for took off from Lawas two mornings hence, first by boat (which promptly sank in the Lawas River, to the great amusement of all concerned), then, by jungle trail, then by Land Rover, then by train, and we were in Kota Kinabalu only two days later. Boy, is transportation lousy in Borneo. Transportation is less developed in Malaysian Borneo: for example, between Miri and Brunei there is no road at all; the bus merely goes along the beach at low tide, swerving from side to side to avoid to the driftwood and coral stones.
At Kota Kinabalu (the capital of Sabah) we picked up some more volunteers from Len’s group and continued by Land Rover to Ranau, a small town at the base of Mount Kinabalu; for, as you know, it had been decided long ago that Kinabalu Must Fall. Ranau was such a charming spot – 2000 feet above sea level, hence good weather, clear, and hardly any humidity, plus a great mountain stream for swimming – we spent an extra day there just for fun.
The road deteriorates at about 3000 foot elevation, and here the bus turned back. We now bought seats on one of the many Land Rovers huddled around the bus stop, and were off on one of the bumpiest, curviest rides of our lives. The road was built mainly by Australian prisoners of war during the Japanese occupation of Borneo to service a small airfield at Ranau, and the prisoners had neither the time nor the inclination to include all the fancy points of road building. Closer to Ranau we passed a memorial to the many Australians who died during the road's construction.
We rode the Land Rover all the way to Ranau, because we had an invitation to stay there with a friend. Ranau is about 6000 feet elevation, and commands a clear view of Mt. Kinabalu to the northwest. Dusuns are in the majority, along with a few Chinese shop keepers, and everyone understands either English or Malay. Ranau's hilly topography, pleasantly cool climate, and sparkling atmosphere reminded me of Switzerland in the springtime.
The trail up Mt. Kinabalu begins at the Park headquarters, and is clearly marked to the summit. For For safety sake, however, the park requires all climbers to hire one of the guides. As for equipment, the less you bring the easier will be the climb. Cooking utensils are provided in the huts, and sleeping bags and kerosene can be obtained at the headquarters. You must bring your own food, of course. I strongly recommend that you bring plenty of warm clothing, for the temperature near the summit drops close to freezing every night. I wore about five layers of clothing our first night on the mountain and was still very cold.
We began our climb up Mount Kinabalu on a beautifully clear evening, and completed it on the following beautifully clear evening, and boy, were we ever lucky on the weather. Conditions were so fine the climb was a little more than a brisk two day hike, but, had it rained, we wouldn’t have made it at all. The trail is extremely steep, so that we were going up ladder fashion a good part of the climb.
We began climbing at about 10 in the morning, and reached the 11,000 foot cabin late that afternoon. The trail was quite good, but also quite steep, and very, very muddy. I found my rubber shoes too slippery, and hiked most of the way in my bare feet. Regular hiking boots with ridged heels and soles would have been ideal. and the first level spot was the site of our cabin for the evening. The cabin we stayed in supposedly slept 24, but the park ranger had set a new Southeast Asian record by signing up at least 40 people that evening. Well, we got there first so we got the beds. The rest sort of heaped up together in the middle of the floor.
There were many interesting plants alongside the trail, some unique to mount Kinabalu. I regretted not having had some sort of plant identification book with me. We found pitcher plants all along the trail, and are one of the most interesting species on the mountain. They live off the insects which have accidentally slipped into their mouths, and find the return trip blocked by a row of smooth, hard "teeth", pointing downwards. Each picture plant has a special leaf sheltering its mouth so that too much rain doesn’t dilute the acid mixture in its picture.
We slept rather poorly that night because of the cold and rose the next morning at four. We had another three hour climb ahead of us, and we wanted to see the view before the mountain clouded over at nine. We stumbled on towards the summit, using ropes to haul ourselves up 45° rock slabs with zero visibility, and 50° temperatures. It sounds pretty terrible, but we were all so sleepy, we didn’t even think about it. The last 2000 feet of the climb is above the forest line, on a huge saddle of granite that stretches off into the jungle on three sides, and into a peak on the fourth.
Just before reaching the summit, we came across a small pool of water, besides which it was customary in olden times to sacrifice an animal before going any further. It was littered with pieces of old chickens and the "sacrifices" of modern civilization: tin cans, candy, wrappers, and even old shoes.
Mount Kinabalu is 13,455 feet high, making it the highest mountain east of the Himalayas (until you get to West Irian), and is holy to all those Sabans who are accustomed to seeing its tremendous bulk every day of their lives.
We reached that fourth side by 8 AM, excited and frozen, enjoying a panoramas from Koka Kinabalu to Sandakan, with even some Philippine islands visible in the distance. The clouds were just beginning to cover the mountain when we reach the summit, but we still had a fine view of the coast from Kota Kinabalu all the way to Tawau.
We stayed on the top only a few minutes for the temperature was very low and the wind, strong, and then descended all the way to the park headquarters by that evening. Wild orchids are supposed to be all over the place, but I didn’t see any. Mosses and ferns grow in luxurious extremes, and birds are actually seen now and then (a rare treat in a jungle). On our hike down, I had a better chance to observe all I could of the mountain, and I must say, Kinabalu has a whole lot more going for it then any other peak I have climbed. At the bottom we rested our feet, filled our stomach, and collected our certificates of the climb, but without that proof, who would ever believe us?
After a few more days in Ranau, I had to board the plane for Kuching, but not before Len and I planned a revisit in December, when we will conquer the upper reaches of the Baram River, and perhaps introduce the pagans of the region to the benefits of modern civilization, i.e., the frisbee.