The Sagada loop as it became to be known is an 800 kilometer bike
route starting from Monumento in Caloocan City and going to Sagada and back to the Caloocan the journey will pass by the provinces of Nueva Ecija, Nueva Vizcaya, The whole journey was inspired by Dan Empainado a.k.a. Sagada loopers who first decided to go to Sagada by bicycle a few years back when he saw the scenic routes while he was with friends on their way to Cagayan and passed through Sagada. Lacking the funds to go the traditional way…by bus and staying in hotels, he followed his dream by deciding to go there entirely by bicycle and spending his nights sleeping in waiting sheds when he got tired. That was just the start, Dan eventually gone through the same journey 45 times ever since, he fell in love with the places, the views, the heritage site and the people. At first he hardly knew anyone in the area but since his first loop, he came to know a lot of the locals along the way and even accompanied his biker friends and even strangers going back to Sagada. Since then a lot of the locals becvame his friends and started to accomodate him and his fellow bikers and welcome them into their homes.

I started biking when i was young and discontinued it when I started working in the 80’s, but a couple of years back, i started to adapt a bike commuting lifestyle to reduce my carbon footprint and as a form of daily exercise and stress reliever. When I got turned on to touring as another discipline, I started joining longer rides into the provinces and other scenic places. Joining a facebook group called “Surly FFFinas” whose members loved touring and building steel bikes, I met “Sagada loopers” who turned out to be a long-time acquiantance in the media industry. It is through him and other biker friends that I was invited to join the 46th Sagada loop.

It took me almost year to finally talk them into having me join an upcoming loop. I started preparing after I joined a ride to Baguio City with some colleagues in the media circles which was also led by Dan. i reached Baguio from Manila by bike and eventually returned home by bus due to some important matters back at the house. Since then, my interest was ignited and the dream to join a sagada loop pushed me to go into an endurance training where I went biking a minimum of 3 times a week covering some 30 kilometers around the UP academic loop and biking to Timberland heights weekly to practice on the steep uphill climbs. I incrementally chewed up longer mileage and steep grades by joining rides to the hilly areas of Antipolo and beyond to the nearby Laguna provinces.

Parallel to the physical training to strengthen my core, I was also slowly beefing up my bicycle, a “Surly Troll” steel bike to accomodate heavier loads by installing racks for heavier loads and fatter tires for stability on rough and downhill roads.

Now that biking all the way is part of the equation, the next hurdle was, how much camera and computer equipment, food, water, tri-weather clothes, medicines, tools, camping gear and other essentials can I bring without hampering my capabilities for the multi-day ride.

Being visually impaired at night means, I have to find a powerful headlight for the long night rides, something with batteries that can last the whole night. A biker neighbor of mine was generous to offer me his “night rider” system and i did not refuse the offer.

As a photojournalist, I had enough experience covering all kinds of stuff and harsh environments so I knew what to anticipate in terms of longer days in the field and with that in mind, I decided i could not bring my bulky DSLR’s for this trip. It weighs a ton and the cold and wet climate would surely hamper it’s performance and fail me .I opted for the lighter and smaller mirrorless bodies.I needed one camera that would withstand the cold and wet environment and be fast enough to cover the action and another body which had an option to use portable powerbanks for charging it’s batteries in isolated areas. If all else fails, I needed to bring a foldable solar panel powerful enough to recharge the powerbanks while riding out in the sun during daytime.
with all the logistic preparations out of the way, the group decided to rollout midnight of December 11, 2016 and be back in Manila by the 19th.

The group started out with 6 persons including myself and two other bikers would have to follow a few days later and do a piggyback ride with us later in Nueva vizcaya due to limitations from their work.

Arwin Arrieta, manages a small business with his father and a sibling. A family man, he prefers an active lifestyle and loves to travel, engage in sports and adventure trips.He has found his peace in biking and has been on it for the past 6 years.Owns a lot of bikes than most people. loves photography. For Arwin, the Sagada loop is a simple test for him to respond to nature’s call, the challenge of developing patience and the passion to tour and experience camarederie between pedaling long distances.

Edan aka “Sagada loopers” Empainado, 51, is the journey leader, former sound recordist of Worldwide Television News a subsidiary of UPI International. he is an accomplished tri-athlete, SUB1 and SUB2 runner but prefers the slow pace of biking from Manila to Sagada and back to Manila, a ride he calls Sagada Loop which he has done to date 46 times.

A humble man who has inspired many bikers to join the Sagada loop, it has been his mission in a way, to take as many bikers as he can on the Sagada Loop to share with them the experiences and blessings he had. His quiet confidence, perseverance, “eye” for capturing memorable & moving photos, wit and humor are what he is best known for.

Eric Sales,Born 1963 in Manila. Photographer, father of 5, husband to Eileen. Been cycling only since 2013, fell passionately in love with long distance multi-day touring pace cycling. He uses a steel Surly Ogre 29er bicycle.

Jorge Chiuco Jr. is an Operations manager at the AIM conference center.Loves bikes and “touring bikes” specifically. He loves the outdoors so much that he dreams of going around the entire philippines on a bicycle someday. Been a follower and a fan of edan ever since. Since sagada loop 1 started it has always been his dream to ride with the legend someday. I was impressed by his captivating pictures showing the wonders of the cordilleras. Have never been to sagada, and would not realize that his first trip to the place was going to be by bike.He his first chance to finally see his dream coming true when he joined edan in sagada loop 38. However typhoon ineng caught up with them on their way to sagada and ended up stranded in a barangay hall in atok benguet for 3 days. had no choice but to abort the ride because of inclement weather. Edan however still pushed thru with the loop after safely guiding them back to Baguio City.

Jun Ureta,51, is a graduate of the Philippine High school for the Arts, and took up Fine Arts at the University of the Philippines in Diliman. He is an accomplished mountaineer and was a former Creative Director at Campaigns and Grey. He claims to have retired this year and has taken up biking fulltime as a means to relieve stress from the rat race of the industry. Jun is at present a freelancer and spends his freetime fabricating DIY projects for bikes.

Marc Comia, works at night as a financial supervisor for 9 years now. When not obsessing over minute details of the daily corporate life, he is caught listening to Rob Zombie and riding bicycles.

A combination of constant positivity and a sucker for romance.Claims to be just a guy trying to do his stuff. “If it’s doable, I go for it” he says. Marc is inspired and influenced by seeing other people passionate about something.and surrounds himself with these people.

Mylu Lichauco Limjap, 43, the lone rose among the thorny bunch.
An outdoor sports and nature lover, unassuming weekend warrior who enjoys occasional multi-day rides (3 Sagada Loops, 1 Solano-Sagada, 1 Manila-Baguio, 1 Manila-Baguio-Mt. Pulag Ranger Station), just one of the boys, a trooper.

She adds “i love the freedom that riding a bike brings and the feel of the wind on my face. the beautiful scenery, camaraderie and friendship with bikemates and Good Samaritans turned lifelong friends is priceless and makes all the sweat and sore muscles worth it. no Sagada Loop is ever the same but each has restored my faith in humanity and in the Almighty, fortified.”

A few minutes before the midnight of December 11, 2016, I struggled to bring my heavily packed (against everybody else’s warning) bicycle with a payload of over 30 kilos down the stairs from the second floor of the condominium type building where I lived with my family. I have been testing various configurations for the past week trying to perfect my bike as a touring workhorse. The meetup at nearby Sacred Heart Parish church was 1am so i pedaled my way to a nearby ‘Pares House’ for carbo loading myself. I gulped at the rice porridge bowl and left. A few minutes later when everybody was accounted for, we started pedaling our way to Monumento in Caloocan City via EDSA. This was the first time I ever traversed this formidable monster of a highway. I usually just use the side streets going anywhere and avoided the main roads because of the danger the other vehicles imposed on me. This time was unique, I was part of a group of veteran bikers and I felt safe somehow by following them behind closely. We reached MacArthur highway in no time and rendezvoused with Arwin who hails from Malabon. pedaling on and making various stops every 10 kilometers to drink or take a 5-minute breather, our aim was to reach Nueva Ecija in the first day where we will stop and rest for the night. We passed by various scenic landmarks and one of them was the historic ‘Red House’ in San Ildefonso Bulacan, a big decrepit house soon to be demolished which according to history was used by the invading Japanese Imperial Army to house it’s comfort women, mostly young Filipinas. We had refreshing buko juice drink straight from fresh young coconuts.
Our original destination was Carranglan Nueva but stopping by a barangay hall in Talavera later that night. The barangay chairman offered his barangay hall for us to take a bath and sleep. SInce Carranglan was still about 20kms. away, we gave in to the offer.

Second Day:

As soon as the sun broke and lit the morning sky, we pedaled off to reach Bagabag Nueva Vizcaya by nightfall.We stopped for a hearty breakfast by the side of the highway in Munoz, Nueva Ecija.
“French Cafe” style. We were served eggs, dried fish, vegetables, Watermelon and finally requested to have our native ground coffee boiled and brewed for us. We only managed to reach Aritao in Nuave Vizcaya and since Mylu requested to rest , we slept in a covered basketball court for the night.

Third day:

Leaving early, the group headed towards Bagabag airport where we will be staying for the night and meet up with the piggyback riders Eric and Marc. Had breakfast in a known fastfood center with an insect for a mascot. and headed on…nearing Bagabag, after having a power nap break in a gasoline station, we were hailed down the highway who turned out to be mylu and Edan’s follower .Peanuts as she is fondly called, invited us to have lunch over at a barbecue joint which known for it’s cleanliness, delicious barbecue and the best vinegar concoction in the area. Passing by a bakery known for it’s special buko pie with a distinct creamy flavor, we stopped for a taste , some water and a few minutes of rest.

Finally after a much needed rest we made a turn into a small road leading to Bagabag town proper and stopped to buy some supplies at the small stores in town. We proceeded to pedal a few meters away into the local bike shop where our eyes lit in excitement seeing the high end components and some rare finds.The shop was owned by Rufo Alava, Tour of the Philippines veteran and rookie of the year of 1980
I have covered the ‘Tours of Luzon’ in the 80’s during my early stint as a newspaper photographer for Tempo and the Bulletin Today so I asked him if he participated during that year. Mr. Alava quickly showed me his newspaper clippings when I told him I covered the races that year. Stories about the past were exchanged as the other members of the group ogled at the surprisingly well-stocked shop.
Soon enough we were back on the road to our final destination of the day at the Bagabag Airport some two kilometers away from the town. As we swerved right into the entrance of the airport the tree lined pathway directed us into the lobby where a middle aged man was waving and welcomed us and our bikes warmly into the center of the well maintained airport. Introductions were made and Sir Jun whose name I kept hearing as we were traversing the long roads leading to this destination turned out to be the OIC of the once bustling airport. Bagabag used to be the hub of air transportation in the region, back in the days when the roads leading to it were still rough and bumpy and the military camp nearby housed soldiers fighting the insurgents in the countryside. Huge improvements in the highway system quickly diminished the airport’s importance and it’s glory faded along with lesser flights coming in and flying out. Even the corporate planes bringing staff into the mining areas in the region disappeared altogether.

Mr. Afan and his skeleton staff is what remains of the airport but for bikers, the place has become a valhalla of sorts. Sir jun owns a few bikes himself and shares the passion with his sons. Edan seems to be a close friend as I listen in to their lively exchange of memories. It turned out that they have crossed paths in the recent past during a cycling event in the province where Edan was the official photographer and Edan pointed out to Sir Jun that he was the one taking pictures. They quickly struck a common chord and the friendship started when the very hospitable Sir Jun offered the airport to Edan and his motley crew whenever he is in the area and in need of a place to stay, At some point, Mr. Afan relates a time that he saw one weary biker in town and asked him where he was going.The biker in his response said he had no idea where he was going and Sir Jun quickly said “If you will trust me and come with me to break bread together, I will show you a place to stay. BIking has been flourishing in the country for a while now not only as a hobby but also as a viable mode of transportation and a lot of bikers have been passing through the bike friendly Bagabag airport to have a quick rest or to stay for the night.

The group settled down finding each one’s corner to charge our gadgets and to wash our dirty clothes. Arwin and I chose to use the benches just outside the tarmac and spread out our wet clothing. As the sun started to set, we can see a lot of bikers going through the airport and into the airstrip to bike around in laps. For dinner, sir Jun herded us into tricycles into a small aviation inspired restaurant called Wacos where the interior is adorned with posters of airplanes and similar memorabilia. After a sumptous dinner of Adobe and sixxling meat preparations he e explained to us that his brother owns the place and that they were both fans of airplanes even when they were very young…in fact inside Mr. Afan’s office at the airport, numerous models of planes line up his desks and cabinets, remote controled biplanes are seen hanging in the ceilings too.

After midnight, news came that the other bikers in our group, Eric and Marc who boarded a bus from Manila was finally at the airport gates and was busy assembling their bikes.Soon after we welcomed them. Our accomodations for the night was in an air-conditioned room adjacent to Sir Jun’s office and had a few soft beds. I elected to sleep in one of them. In seconds I was heard snoring soundly and when it was time to wake up, my whole aching body seemed fully repaired for the new and long day of riding.

Day 4: Today we no longer traverse flat roads and start the long climb going to Banaue View point. where another Good Samaritan awaits us. Banaue is one of the highlights of our journey as it opens up a different world and culture.
The Banawe rice terraces are 2,000-year-old terraces that were carved into the mountains of Ifugao in the Philippines by ancestors of the indigenous people. The Rice Terraces are commonly referred to as the “Eighth Wonder of the World”.[1][2][3] It is commonly thought that the terraces were built with minimal equipment, largely by hand. The terraces are located approximately 1500 metres (5000 ft) above sea level. They are fed by an ancient irrigation system from the rainforests above the terraces. It is said that if the steps were put end to end, it would encircle half the globe. (from Wikipedia)

Starting out early, and into higher grounds, you start feeling the increased effort in pedaling the uphill and sloping roads. The group was starting feel the slowdown as the sun was still raging in the sky. I lost track of the towns that we have passed but was anticipating the approach of Dalton Pass, the hardest part of the days journey. The dalton pass or ‘Balete pass’ is a zigzag road adjoining the provinces of Nueva Ecija and Nueva Vizcaya i’s summit of the mountain pass is around 3000 feet and it is a historic place and the scene of much bloody fighting during the war against the Japanese in World War II.
The Dalton pass viewpoint is located here which offers long vistas of the mountains and forests. unfortunately, we reached the peak by nightfall and as we descended out of the pass everything around was dark. At the foot of the descent, as I was following Jorge closely as he was swerving out into the soft shoulders of the road and back into the highway, my front wheel slipped and i fell straight into the pavement as I tried to recover my bike’s balance.It’s heavy weight forced me to dive straight to the ground. The others quickly stopped an oncoming truck behind me and they quickly helped me out and guided me to the side of the highway, I suffered some cuts on my elbow and shins and my b saddkle was twisted out of position. Luckily, we were in a thickly inhabited area and the residents lost no time in offering us momentary refuge. Mylu quickly helped me get my first aid kit, and helped me apply some dressings. Rattled but not totally injured, I managed to take a few minutes of rest and we pedaled on and up to attack the short but painful ascent into Banawe.

We slowly inched our way up the steep grades and curving zigzag road for another few hours.It started to rain and the air was chilly so we donned our rainwear and continued pedaling using bigger gears.Most of our bicycles are equipped with bigger cogs to aid uys in navigating steep ascents but the load on my bike seemed to be dragging ma down.It was only through my training in Zen meditation that I managed to cast away clouds of doubt whenever I wa experiencing physical difficulties and boredom. I was applying different techniques on how to stay focused. At some point I was counting my cadence internally in my head and whenever I was out of earshot from the others, I would start singing out loud as the pedaling became tougher and tougher or “makunat ipadyak” ALso on my bikes cocpit, the area around my handlebar, I have a pouch hanging called a feedbag. in it there is a constant supply of Trail mix, a combination of various nuts, and some M&M’s plus some salted nuts to prevent dehydration and loss of electrolytes. Continuously pedaling for long hours and sweating depletes the body’s elctrolytes and water is not enough to replenish it so before the trip, I bought a bottle of salt sticks, capsules supposedly containing much neede salts and other minerals plus vitamin C to aid in preventing dehydration and the buildup of Lactic Acid in the leg muscles which can lead to cramps. All throughout the journey, I was on the verge o having swollen knees but the supplement and vitamins I took regularly really helped me.I was the oldest on the group at 56 and had the heaviest payload . I needed all the help I can get.

when the two others arrived, they offered to carry my cooking gear for me. Water is a very essential part of any ride and I read somewhere thatthe rule is ‘drink before you become thirsty’ .

SO back at the slopes…at one point going up Banawe, I managed to swerve and stop .Mounting again and up the very steep angle became impossible for me so I pushed my bike up into the final turns with my knees buckling from the weight. I was the last biker and the others were way ahead and I lost sight of them as the disappeared into a curve. FInally a saw a light up ahead and the rest of the group cheering as they guide me into our destination for the night.

Everything around us was fog-filled and pitch dark and Eric, a fellow photographer kept whispering to me “man you’ll have the surprise of your life when you wake up tomorrow.I was so weary to even decipher what he meant as I parked my bike by the nearest empty space and sunk into a table filled with steaming and mouth watering smell of steamed rice and grilled Liempo.
We were welcomed by our host for the night. ‘Ella’ wax a big burly woman who had a very friendly face.She quietly moved around and smiled at us.

I was so tired and thankful that we arrived and had shelter from the freezing cold. and had no idea where we would be sleeping for the night, everything was damp and cold until we were herded into a tiny room filled with surplus clothing and some comforters on the floor.The eight of us managed to squeeze ourselves tight and I found a short couch soft enough to rest my aching back on.

Day 4:
I woke up and found myself into a sitting position, my belongings seemed bunched together in a corner.I slowly inched out of the cramped room to find a rest room while everybody was still fast asleep.

outside I saw a magnificent view of the mountains.a village with houses covered with tin scattered amngst the rice terraces.In the distance, fog was starting to roll in and covering the whole landscape. I stood in awe of it’s beauty and started taking pictures. I managed to get a few choice moments until the clouds ate up the whole view and hid it from me.

I slowly walked towards where we ate the previous night and i saw Jorge drinking his coffee. I sat down and made my own. Taking a bath at this temperature seemed out of the equation for me so I just went ahead to eat breakfast, a selection of fried eggs, sausages, rice and some sausages.

After breakfast, I walked around and found the morning life unfolding before me, across the road a, young girl was taking a bth from the mountain spring pipe, on my right ,a dog sat looking at his mistress as she starts to open her store. . far ahead I saw two older women starting to weave on their loom so i approached them slowly and with a smile I started taking their pictures. They were feeding the loom alternately in a fluid repetitive movements.They smiled at me with their moma stained teeth,I smiled back and greeted them and walked away.Down the road was a woman with a pink umbrella waiting …a boy appeared from behind walking towards her and firing his toy cap gun.

I went back our room and found the others chatting and laughing as they recall the previous day’s activities.I take pictures. Soon we ere preparing to leave again but not without the obligatory group picture taking with our host against the terrace backdrop which magically cleared again.

DAY 5: From Banawe, we slowly ascended into more winding roads and steep climbs trgeting Mt. Polis. It was supposed to be another hard climb and indeed it was because the rains started again and the wind was blowing into our faces as we traversed the way up.It was getting nociceably colder, somewhere in the realm of 13 degrees.I wore two layers of clothing with a thermal shirt before ny rain ]wear. and my scraf covere my face with my hood up to cover my freezing ears. It seemed comfortable enough as i struggle up the mountains.My hands were tingling and becoming numb. at this point, I was totally convinced that i over packed. I should not have brought my laptop and i started to jettisone my two liter water reserve and shared it with the others. I thought to myself, there was no option but to bring them, I didn’t have enough memory cards to last for 9 days. all the other stuff were also useful. I validated my strategy within myself and moved on.This is a test of sheer will and not strength. I can do this.

it was almost dark when we finally reached the summit of Mt. Polis I was experienching chills, my whole body was shaking uncontrollably. We reached our quarters for the night, a store owned by Emma a friend of Edan and Mylu,
We were gulping warm tubs of instant noodles and the fog was inside the store, I have never seen anything like it but the glow was strange but a beautiful sight outside.Blue tinge with some lights flickering from the stores on the other side of the street. The stirekeeper, a young nab in his early 20’s was just wearing a sleeveless basketball jersey like it was summer. Eric offered me a shot of gin which they just bought,I sipped a little and it warmed me a little.

After Dinner at the small reataurant on the other side, a pitstop for bus drivers and conductors, we headed back to our quarters. As i stepped out the door the drastic change in temperature sent me into another chill attack and i became disoriented and fell flat on the ground in a planking position, I was protecting my laptop and cameras. I had another set of skin wounds and they assist me to cross the street where i was immediately given a warm comforter up in our room and waited still shaking and cold until my chills subsided.They brought the bikes inside the store and I had no energy to unpack and charge my things so I slept soundly that night.thick with sweaters and thermal shirts and socks.

i
Day 6:
i discovered that evn throught the waterproof pannierbags and camera bag, the moisture still managed to seep in This was moisture country, Isaid to myself.One oof the cameras started to act strage and I found it dis;playing quirky system errors.It didn’t withstand the cold.My heart sunk, It was my workshorse, now i cant change lenses for a variety of shots.I opened my backup body, aan Xt100T with a fixed 35mm leans.It was working but also on the verge of giving up.I really chose this camera as a second body so in case the batteries fail in cold conditions, i can still use it with mu power bank, it’s exclusivr feature. So today we are going down Mt. Polis into long cascading zigzag roads into the wild and up again to Sagada.

The road was equally har than the previous days but at least, the sun was up as the weather app accuweather said so, we were going to pass by Bontoc province and have lunch there , rest for a while and head up Sagada,the heart of our mission.

The plan was to just attack it go to the marker, take some pictures and head down again…that was easier said than done…hahaha I have learned my lessons already.On trips like this, you have to be very flexible, theories and actions doesn’t really match up.

SO on the way down Bontoc , along the highway, We witnessed the mass slaying of pigs. The animals were being killed by slashing their throats inside jeepneys, whilw other men starts to burn of their fur with LPG blowtorches. I knew this was a ritual, in the corner of my eye while shooting I saw a figure of somebody with a camera busy documenting it, and in another area, a videographer was busy filming the massacre.I suddenly realized that i may know these guys from facebook.I have never met them personally but we were friends online.Soon enough a girl called my name “sir Luis” I smiled and acknowledged them, a creative group of photographers from the “habi Collective” they are young photographers doing docu-style wedding coverages and focusing on rituals and other cultural touches in their videos.

We exchanged pleasantries and they moved on back to their next shoot.Meanwhile, I got a whiff of coffe brewing somewhere, In a carwash shop fresh coffee was being brewed on a percolator, I asked if I cun buy a cup of coffee. “No” the woman retorted, then she smiled…it’s free you can have some.Really? by now I have come to accept that the people of the cordilleras are very warm accommodating people. They are all around us.

AFter welcoming the whole group and a group photo we headed on to town central where Anlother friend of Edan, a estaurant proprietress was waiting and willing to serve us lunch, adobo, pinapaitan, fresh steamed water cress and soda drinks, which in the past few days has become a staple energy drink for all of us.

My old rubber shoes gave up at some point behind and i was wearing a slipper on my right foot, the whole shoe being held up temporarily by cable ties which i bring for emergencies .The whole sole has fallen and I asked to be directed to an “ukay shop” Walking a hundred meters uphill in an open market was a trove of used clothing and shoe stalls. I patiently inspected each store for the right shoe but all I found were really nice pairs for boys smaller than me. I finally found one suiting my taste and bought it .

The next goal was Sagada and we happily moved on stopping at a local “Lagalag” store to check out some probable ‘hoards’ along sloping highways, we finally reached the foot or junction of Father Staunton road leading up the last leg towards Sagada.

We restocked and bought some water and supplies at the store and got ready for the attck,This was supposed to be a short distance up to Sagada but really a very steep one.Inching up slowly and into some landslideaffected roads, we reached the marker later that night.I thought we were finally in Sagada. I realized there was another 5 kilometers uiphill climb to the town.

It was equally cold going up, not colder but enought to numb my fingers again. as we reached the summit and after eric went on ahead as we rested in a gasoline station, we found out from him that the whole town was fully booked and full to the brim with holiday tourists.

Luckily, Sneaky, an old friend of Eric had a house with a bread and breakfast setup..they had guests attending a seminar workshopand all the rooms were full. but they had a mess hall which was vacant at the time…the catch? we had to wake up early and vacate it to give way to the participants having their breakfast there,.

dinner an=d breakfast were fine…dried fish, adobo, hot soup, eggs…the works~! THey were equally warm to us.

Day 7; Refreshed and a bit rejuvenated with the news that it’s all downhill from here gave excited me.
we were heading to mount Data towards another good Samaritan “Dionisio”
Edan in his past travels has met a lot of good people as he encountered different dilemmas and situations and DIonisio was one of them, One rainy and cold evening in the past, edan had nowhere tyo go but found Dionisio’s house which had an overhanging roof.He lnockedc on the door and a woman opened it for him and welcomed him and soon became a friend of the family.

We stayed there for the night but not after I experienced a situation called a “chain suck.in which my chain overshot the big cog or sprocket. we had a hard time unclogging it and managed to force the rear mechanism to fail. We had chicken Dinner over at Dionisio’s hous which he bouvht for us while on duty in his precinct some towns away. we stayed up a beautiful attic with gables you can view the mountains from. In the morning we had coffee some really tasty bread .We had time to repair my rear mech before we moved on to our next destination.

Day 8:

Now it’s up to Baguio City on our way back home. This is not so easy as it sounds. Going to Baguio means we have to pass by the highest point in the highway system called the Halsema highway

(The 150-kilometre highway covers 95 kilometres of Benguet province and traverses eight of its municipalities (La Trinidad, Tublay, Atok, Bokod, Kabayan, Buguias, Bakun, and Mankayan). It also covers four Mountain Province towns (Bauko, Sabangan, Bontoc, and Sagada).[7] The road splits into two upon reaching the village of Dantay, in Bontoc. One road leads to downtown Bontoc,[4] while the other leads to the town of Sagada, 29 kilometres (18.0 mi) farther from the junction.)

As we were pedaling our way to the highest point, I noticed a lot of other equally beutiful terraces planted with vegetables but i was wondering to myself, If we are going to the highest point, why are we going on a descent?
The question was answered at the end of long winding roads going down , the roads started to go up towards endless ascents up another mountain. the sun was going down and almost at dusk, I saw the group after a bend smiling and waving at me.Upon xseeing tourists taking photos and selfies, I knew I have arrived.It was almost sunset and the clouds were li up from behind in a warm glow.

It was time to go down again towards endless turns and steep descents. Baguio Here we come!

it was another 30 or forty kilometers away and up mountains through La trinidad Valley , an uneventful but dangerous trek towards the city of pinesas evrything was pich black darkness except the light shining in front to guide you.

At about midnight, we reached Camp John Hay where we would be staying at the Igorot lodge, an establishment being run by people from the Asian Institute of Management (AIM). A real hotel at last, the last leg of our journey home. We had a really good night sleep after being invited to dinner with employess in their christmas gathering.

Day 9:

We woke up a little bit late than usual and made last minute repairs and dried our clothes on the grass in the sunshine. Crows were cooing and visiting us landing down the lawn in front of the wooden whitepainted American style houses which the Americans built at the height of the Camp John Hay days.

Before lunch time, we al headed out the camp’s exit and paased through a commercial area, A voice from behind shouted my name and saw Dave Leprozo, a baguio basec photographer who was my friend, another voice called out to me an pat me on the shoulder saying in a very low authoritative voice “it is not allowed to park here” It was another friend, Photographer and Cinematographer Roberto “boy” Yniguez. He invited us for a celebratory Anniversary dinner at his wife’s restaurant the “Bistro by hill station”.

it was a bit late but who can refuse lunch right? we needed the enrgy for the steep descent down Kennon road into Rosario Pangasinan. We stayed there for an hour or so befor we had the courage to bid goodbye.

The journey down Kennon Road was a bit scary at the start, there were really deep descents and tight pin curves all the way down,After a quicj photo opportunity at the Lions Head, we all headed down at our own pace. We passed by various camps named by numbers. and saw beautiful gorges and rivers opening up to La union.Where we had a brief stop at “bike fix” to tune up our bikes for the long haul back to Manila.

In Rosario Pangasinan, Dr. Donald Uy, a fellow biker who was another good samaritan for bikers was patiently waiting and monitoring us since day 1.

We arrived at his farm and had dinner chines style which his mother-in-law happend to prepare . Local sausages were also served.
Doc Donald as we fondly called him engaged us in lively stories which floated from politics to, show business, national issues and finally into bike parts. He was a constant host to all other touring bike advocate who pass by his place on their way up north oor back to Manila. He herded us into our airconditioned room.

Day 10:

We have originally planned to leave very early the next day, but due to his friendly demeanor, we surmised that he misses the company of fellow bikers so we went and rode with him to buy local suman called tupig straight from the source.It was so soft and deliciously hot and fresh.

Afterwards we visited, the “our lady of Manaoag shrine” in Urdaneta , a town away and marveled at it’s size

It was late in the afternoon when we chose to roll out to prevent the hot afternoon sun from burning our skin.The last 200 kilometers was the most gruelling part of the journey.We had to pass throught endless towns of tarlac , pamp;anga until finmally reaching Bulacan, the homestretch going to Manila.
W s;pent the whole night traveling the highway , sleeping at waiting sheds and convenience stores until we reached Pampanga at daybreak.We had a big breakfast at a fastfood chain and washed up a bit before heading to Bulacan.

Near the boundary of Bulacan ,we were welcomed by Dennis, a fellow member of ‘surly fffinas’ and invited us to have lunch in Bocaue some 40 kilometers away. It was serendipity that we went wwith him as Jun ujreta’s handlebar broke while managing a bump in the road. Dennis lent him a spare once we reached Bocaue.

He served “pancit alanganin or Pancit bading” before he let us go on towards Manila. There were only four of us left as we were struggling to pass by the seemingly obstacle ridden Macarthur Highway on the approach to Monumento in Caloocan.Mylu had left her bike at Doctor Donald’s place and rode a bus to Manila to catch up with work, she will retrieve her bike later to complete the loop back home, Jorge and Marc left Baguio city by bus to catch up with work too.We were already delayed by two days and they had to go.Eric on the other hand decided to spend another day with his daughter dylan, who stays in Baguio.

Finally after layers of traffic Edan, Arwin, Jun and myself was standing in front of the Monument in Caloocan for our last photo signaling the end of the loop.

We headed towards Edsa on our way home to our families, but nearing roosevelt AVenue, i had a flat tire and my rear mech wa torally wrecked. I pushed my way from roosevelt to West Avenue to a bike shop for repairs. Whew, murphy’s law is catching up on me.

It was almost 7:30 in the evening when I reached home to my wife Venus. I overshot my visa of 9 days and i thought my clothes will be out of the door when i got home.But her initial reaction was a sweet smile.

This journey is not all about bicycles.Well you have to have a sturdy bike to do the journey but the greatest test was inside of yourself.If you really want to do something and have prepared yourself well for it, then there is no question that it can be done.Everywhere in the philippines there exists a set of people who will welcome you with open hearts and homes if you appreciate them and they appreciate your efforts in return knowing the struggles you went through to reach the,.In the openness of the countryside, all the worries and clouds of doubts and problems of the city just fade away and clear up for you to see the beaujty of the Philippines, it’s culture, and most of all it’s people. Everybody must try it.

 

Luis Liwanag

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