TRAILS UP NORTH

Glo Abaeo Tuazon
Timeless valley of echoes

SAGADA, Mountain Province -- The bus dropped me off one dusty day in the middle of this called Sagada. For some reasons, there weren't much people today. One sitting idly beside the giant bell at the entrance to Saint Mary's Church and one sleepy vendor nodding in the afternoon heat, her head almost touching the crate of oranges in front of her. A stray dog came by, sniffing at me awhile and decided I wasn't interesting enough and left. I lifter my pack and started up the stairs to the St. Joseph Lodging House.

Sagada doesn't know me but I come here often enough to escape from the pressures of work and constant body aches, caused by life's wear and tear. Sagada has always had some effect on me, I could stay in my hotel room all day and still feel the whole town in my system. I come here invited or uninvited and wouldn't care if it makes a difference or not. The thing is, I love the place.

I have taken to the trails, enjoyed the hike through mountain passes crossing the graveyard down to the timeless echo valley. Have hollered to nonexistent friends from the height and heard it come back to me, pretending someone was on the other side calling my name. Have gone down to strain my neck looking up to the hanging coffins and wondering how they were put there in the first place, or who started the tradition and everyone else followed.

Did they call it a fad back then? Or simply for a reason that the dieties have required? A culture much unlike anyone's? One that fascinated me and fascinates me to this day. The limestone walls that created the facade my guide told me was what reverberates the sounds back throughout the valley. Looking up on gorges at sundown the silhouettes creates images of gargoyles eyeing everyone who happen to come by.

Pass through underground rivers sandwiched between the ridges of deep gorges and mountains and see the marks of ages etched on the limestone walls. How the flow of the water created patterns of art on the river floor, the sediments a varied hue of browns and yellows and ochres. I loved these walks, especially when the leaves are the colors of autumn. To end up sweaty and content with a bowlful of yoghurt and a quarter of chicken done in a manner I can't explain to this day.

Sagada has its shares of caves too. Grand old caves with narrow to huge chambers. The big cave took us to an intricate maze of winding passages, some i had to crawl through. I was once "lost" here. We came to the part where the icy water trickled to a pool almost swallowing me, reaching to my chin. I never quite figures out what got me there but I spent a night sleepless after that.

There seemed to be a voice calling to me, luring me back there. That was almost two years ago, i came back to find my voice. The caving was uneventful though and the sun greeted us back out from where we started.

Sagada is one place I like to walk through leisurely. A sight everywhere I go. An interesting tale every now and then. A casual hello once in awhile from strangers and a cup or two of knowledge gathered every time I come around. -- email: twilight_glo@yahoo.com