Quirino Province | A Spell of Anonimity

“Hey, do you know how to go to Quirino?” my friend messaged me a few years ago.

“Quirino Grandstand?” I replied with genuine lack of interest. I thought she wanted to go to a rally, or a free concert maybe?

“HINDE! Quirino Province!”

Confused, I immediately went to my smartest friend, Google, typing Quirino Province tourism spots and itinerary. I’m not that arrogant to claim to know each and every destination in this scattered archipelago, especially two years ago, when my focus was still on hiking and not traveling, but this one’s different, this ignorance hurt my ego. It’s an entire province, 230,000 hectares of land that somehow escaped my radar. My quite confidence even back then about being well-travelled was shattered completely that I immediately reviewed each and every provinces to see if I was missing something else, but to my relief, Quirino Province was an isolated case, a land locked region, literally the only province I’ve never heard of.

But that relief was brief when I saw where exactly it was located.  It hides comfortably behind its better known neighbors – Isabela on the north, Aurora on the east, and Nueva Viscaya on the south, with the Siearra Madre mountain ranges hampering any attempt to add roadways through the province. The junction in Cordon Isabela, the most descent highway going to Quirino is so ordinary that without the proper signage that says TO QUIRINO, one might think that it was just another road in that small town.

Named after the late President Elpidio Quirino, it is a young province, gaining its independence from Nueva Viscaya only just 50 years ago. Its juvenile age, and its relative seclusion can be seen etched in each and every town you pass by, with only a succession of rice fields, corn and banana plantations,  with the pockets of small towns, and even smaller communities in between, and the mountainous guardians lurking in the background.

In the town of Cabarroguis, taking away the Provincial Capitol Compound would reveal it as the small rural agricultural neighborhood that it is, making you doubt if it really is the industrial center of a province. But with everything it lacks in economic might, its natural treasures and eco tourism spots  hides deep within its raging river rapids, dark-deep-wet-and-wild cave connections, and elegant towering waterfalls –placing no doubt in my mind that someday, no one like me would ever fall under the spell of not knowing where Quirino Province is.

River Rapids

On my first trip to Quirino Province, it took us the average 8 hours to reach the town of Madella, one of few places you’ll find somewhere to eat, and that somewhere are 2-3 tiny canteens, with the 4^th and 5^th ones playing hide and seek with tourists. On my second trip here, because of the traffic in Sta. Fe, Nueva Viscaya, it was already 11am, 12 hours after we left Manila, when we arrived in Siitan River, located in the town of Nagtipunan – the largest, most forested, and southernmost town of Quirino.  On my visit here last January (2017), we were too early that we had to wait for the carinderias (canteen) to open, and when we were strapping our life vest for our river cruising, there was still a thin mist in the air. 

SIITAN RIVER is one of the sites in the province where they offer river activities. It’s a quick cruising up and down the river, about two hours to complete if you include the mandatory selfies, swimming and standard harutan.

As long as the weather is cooperating, it’s a pleasant showcase of how savage and rugged nature could be, with the Cagayan River being held captive by gargantuan rock ledges, cliffs and formations, that on my opinion is even better than that of the more famous Minalungao National Park.

My theory is that aside from the product of eons of erosions, a sudden tectonic activity resulted this once one chunk of land to split in the middle, exposing layers after layers of rock, and creating the massive river canyon hundreds of feet below (don’t ever quote me on this, my knowledge in geology is as close as Tito Sotto’s* knowledge of the Law.)

When the sun is high enough, the jagged rock formations plunging from the waters glows into a blinding white color, seemingly bleached for decades. The water is so deep that it would be foolish to attempt reaching the bottom, and while it’s murky, it reflects either the lush green vegetation around it, or the azure color of the sky. Near the end of the cruise, we found several places where a cliff jump was possible, the main culprit why this twenty-minute cruise became a two hour swim-jump-and-photographic bonanza.

Before we left, we took a detour to Bimappor Rock Formation, an enormous parcel of hill deserving its own name, towering tens of stories high, suffering from a case of bipolar syndrome, with one face brimming with life and vegetation, while the other side lifeless, sporting a rough gravel surface – like the humongous hand of God cleaved it with an equally humongous-unsharpened machete. And because of the cold hearted creatures humans are, we prefer pictures of the lifeless.

Still dripping when we hopped inside our van, I can’t help but daydream of the pancit cabagan we were gonna have for lunch. For if I’m going to survive this adrenaline packed weekend, I needed carbs. Several plateful of carbs.

A Baging Jump (not a real phrase), is the act of jumping off a cliff/rock ledge, or anywhere several meters above a body of water, mostly a river because of the existence of a Baging (vines) or in this case a rope tied to a tree, making the use of Baging in this terminology totally unnecessary – punctuated by swinging forward ala-Tarzan, before letting go and falling on the river below.

Now, there are two types of people who are stupid enough to do this;

Type A) the stupid ones like me, and

Type B) the smart ones who succumb to peer-pressure from their stupid friends.

We had a B-type friend, let’s call her Dev for anonymity, who set a world record for showing the most number of facial expressions in a matter of seconds while she was swinging in the air in the middle of her baging jump. There was the frightened-I’m-gonna-die face, the Novena expression, the electrified look, the constipated squirm, the unconscious state (my favorite) and several other variations too comical to name. She clearly wanted no part of it but she did it anyway. Gripping the rope, standing at the edge of the ledge, it took her a complete 5 minutes just to find enough baseless courage to jump, but she did it anyway, maybe just to please us, because there’s nothing more pleasing than seeing your friend scream from terror.

Dev defied her fears along the waters of GOVERNOR RAPIDS in the town of Madella, a rival of Siitan, slightly wider, with its canyon slightly higher, and with a more official ring to its name. It’s on the same Cagayan River, meaning that if you pee on Siitan, chances are it goes straight to Governor Rapids. So ladies and gents, for the love of hygiene, please, control your bladders.

It also features a river cruising package, where the spot for the Baging Jump is all the way at the edge. We were fortunate to have the baging jump for ourselves, although a lot of other tourist kept passing us by on their hired canoes. I believe they were intimidated by our most boisterous crew, THE WONDER TWINS, Carlo and Pau Aguirre, all six feet of their identical bodies, and they’re loud and mischievous banters.

And as if our canoes weren’t unstable enough, we raised the stakes by availing another water activity, Water Tubbing – where the guides tied several salbabidas together, and ushered us along the most violent portion of the river. We almost tipped over, twice, and although the guides kept reassuring us that we won’t smash on any rocks, it never made me felt any safer. Remember that this was January, and the river current is at its strongest. To try this the first time was ludicrous, going for a second round would be…. Oh you know we went for a second round, we were all Type-A, including Dev who we’ve now converted, who also lost her glasses in the process. So if you’re a Type B, please, please, find better friends.

 

SPELUNKING

Before peer pressure forced Dev to perform the baging jump on Governor Rapids, our canoe made a stop along the river bank, where the entrance to a small cave was located. A mere crack on the rock façade would be more appropriate, rather than an actual entrance that leads anywhere, atleast anywhere safe, that an impending collapse was all too possible.

The journey inside was indeed short, less than a hundred meters which would only take you a couple of minutes to navigate, but an eventful couple of minutes at that, for it will force you countless awkward body positions. If your spinal cord or any of your joints are brittle or supplemented by metal artifice, you will be facing a herculean task. But even on the precipice of the cave, you would know, or hear, why sentient beings decide to embark inside despite the search-for-Salonpas aftermath.

At the heart of the cave was a waterfall with a shallow waist high pool where you can dip and let the rage of the falling water massage your back. The thunderous eruption of falling water prevents anyone from having an audible conversation, while the cold temperature of the pool begs for recreating a childish-splash-fight that punishes those who are reluctant to get wet.

This is Teniente Cave, the junior among the 3 caves we visited that weekend - Junior in size, length and difficulty. Because in Quirino Province, shortage in cave connections would be the last of your complain. UMAY might be a reasonable one.

Still dreaming of the Pansit Cabagan that will soon be our lunch, Carlo nudged me from my Nap when we arrived in the parking area in Diamond Cave. It took me 4 trips in Quirino to finally find out why this cave is called Diamond. You see, the entrance and exit are right beside each other, and the cave culminates on a shallow pool, but your way in, and your way out is different, that an illustrated map of the cave would resemble a diamond shape.

1 hour and 20 minutes, that’s the average traverse of Diamond cave, and while you will be upright 95% of the time, the cave itself is not huge in size, with a ceiling height of 2-3 meters most of the way, with few portions that exceeds 5 meters. But the sense of the extreme is never lacking inside Diamond Cave. Some parts are narrow trails with a good few meter fall if you slip, forcing local guides to put ropes for safety. You have to navigate through water, mud, rocks – which can be either slippery or sharp, or both.

But in terms of nightmare settings, few can compare for what’s lying at the heart of this cave. You navigate through a tunnel with chest high water while the ceiling is almost at reach. Remember, we were inside a cave, and the flimsy lights coming from our flash lights are the only illumination. A slight movement underwater can be anything from tiny rocks, to an actual monster. Without the constant giggles of our group that chokes out the silence, it would have been the perfect excuse for pissing your pants.

At around 2pm, a tid bit late for lunch, we were back near Siitan River, at MJ’s Pansiteria, impatiently waiting for the freshly cooked homemade pansit cabagan, impatient not because of the long wait, for their service is quite good and recommended, but for the sheer animalistic hunger we felt. When stomachs are empty, humankind returns to savagery. Spoon and forks forgotten, table etiquettes irrelevant, belt and pants loosened up, subsequent burping unexcused.  Everything was devoured in minutes.

A dare almost happened, a stupid dare. It was in the middle of the night, on the confines of our dormitory lodging in Aglipay, in the middle of socializing via a liter of Emperador Light, that an idea emerged.

It doesn’t make a difference if you go caving in day, or in night, it’ll always be dark, so why wait for the morning, and why not do it right then, approaching midnight? Why not indeed?

A stupid dare, fit among Type A individuals. The only reason logic was able to rescue us were the lack of alcohol intake, 1 liter for a group of 6-8 drinkers were just not enough to make ill-advised decisions. And so, we let it go, and went to bed, like sane people do, unfortunately.

Our lodging was at the Aglipay Caves and Picnic Grounds, a compound run and funded by the government of Quirino. On its heyday, maybe a decade ago, I can imagine a lush and well-kept landscaping, blooming flowers, trimmed grass grounds, and lots of visitors, especially camping events like jamborees for boy scouts, but it’s not to say that it’s now an abandon complex of trees, bushes and ruins, it’s far from that, but like all government run facilities, it was clear that funds went scarce a few years ago. Still, I loved the nights and mornings I spent here.

We were woken up by the tune of the forest, flocks of birds and thousands of insects, reptiles and mammals, spirits and elves, riled up by the upcoming day ahead, or just going to sleep after their nocturnal affairs – whichever, they were making themselves heard. Like the strong current in Governor Rapids brought by January, I never knew temperature could drop that low in Quirino. So on that chilly Sunday morning, we started our day inside Aglipay Cave, a short walk from our dorm accommodation, with only a cup of coffee in our bellies. Maybe it was best to postpone meals after we do activities, it makes everyone move faster.

COLLOSAL, that’s Aglipay Cave in one description. And it wasn’t shy about it. The first cave was called the Ballroom Chamber, maybe they were dancing here to appease spirits? I forgot to ask. But I have a better comparison, its size reminded me of the insides of a haunting gothic Cathedral, the ceiling 20 or more meters in height, complete with howling bats, all you need is an altar, a priest, and someone being crucified.

Tatay Rudy, the main guide and caretaker of Aglipay Caves, embodies what it is to be a tour guide, equipped by his gasoline powered flash light, his knowledge of the geography, historical relevance, and empirical distances and sizes within the cave, and highlighted by his innate sense of humor coupled with a playful imagination. In a world with protruding stalactites and stalagmites, and infinite rock formations, the human brain tends to compensate the abstract forms with images and shapes it can recognize. 

Bulging on the walls of the cave, hanging from the ceiling, or standing on the ground, we saw the rocks come to life, or transform into something else, thanks to Tatay Rudy’s insinuations and clever story telling. For the next hour and a half, we saw dolphins, the back of an owl, a Buddha, a camel, a miniature rice terraces, a giant turtle, the head of a horse, a human tooth, wings of an angel, and a Man committing suicide, through hanging. Oh! We even know why he committed suicide, he was heartbroken, there was a wedding nearby, a groom, a bride (his love interest, complete with a bello and a long gown), kneeling in front of the Priest! Yes we found the priest, the cathedral is almost complete!

Waterfalls

They asked often how we found out about Ganano Falls. Well, it wasn’t a secret, you can read blogs about it, and one phone call from the Tourism in Diffun, Quirino would easily confirm its existence. It was going there that was tough. Without your own vehicle, you had to rely on commuter jeep that goes straight to the jump-off which was a brgy, one trip a day, so good luck going back on the same day. And even on your own vehicle, the road is confusing, no signs, no arrows, or any sort of confirmation that you’re still in the right track. The more you pursue, the more doubtful you become. You realize you’re deep in the forest, the road becomes narrower, you pass by a bridge that can only fit one vehicle, no barricades on curving turns, one wrong maneuver of the driver and you fall, corn and camote are being dried on the cement road, then the corn and camote vanishes, along with the cement road!, replaced by a rough-uneven path, your driver complains, your vehicle gets stuck in the mud, you cry for help, no one comes, there no signal, “where the hell are we!!”.

But if you somehow survive all that, or if you go in the summer where the roads are better, you arrive in Baguio Village, Yes! Baguio Village! It’s the name of the brgy. There’s also an Ifugao Village, and Australian Village. I asked our guide why it was like that, he said they’re origins are Igorot, the reason why they speak Kankana-ey, a dialect in Benguet, which means the residents in Ifugao must have been originally from Ifugao. Mystery solved (except for Australian Village. Are they Ausie?)

Nomenclature aside, it’s still a typical Quirino-esque community. You can hear the river, you can smell the pigs, men are chewing moma, trees are taller than houses, people are shy, and your van is the only vehicle you see. When we got there, it was already noon. The weather is great, there’s no sign of impending rain, we thanked God for it, but as we started to trek, we cursed and we cursed and we cursed some more, for the elements had an agreement, before we bathed on the waterfalls, we were going to bathe in the sun first.

Ganano Falls was not alone. She gushes an abundance of water that she was bound to produce a number of offspring. The nearest to the barangay, which by the default became the most populated with all manners of creatures, mostly human tourists, is SABANGARAN FALLS. It’s less than 3 meters in height, but the pool was wide, cold and inviting. The closer you get to the falling water, the deeper it gets, until the bottom vanishes, separating swimmers from cats.

4o minutes from the barangay, the forest turned from barks and branches, to bamboos and, well, more bamboos. In here, you decent to Sinipit Falls, only a few minutes off trail to Ganano. Of all the underlings, I liked this one the best. The pool is shallow, the deepest can only reach my chest, as wide as that of Sabangaran, with waters oozing down from a lot of direction. There’s a misplaced boulder on top, splitting the flow of water. On my first visit here, a couple was doing a Pre-Nuptial photoshoot. It was indeed romantic, the wild forest was able to create place of serenity – gentle and nurturing. It was a bathing ground for fairies. On my last visit here, I told our group we were in a hurry, that we only had time for taking a few photos. Even with the precaution, it was unavoidable, we stayed for 1 hour.

Barely a hundred meters downstream of Sinipit, you arrive in NANTUGAW FALLS, totally unassuming, even borderline undeserving of the waterfall category, but given the right vantage point, you’ll eventually change your mind. It was wide, as wide as the length of the river, and I doesn’t actually fall abruptly, but gently glides down the sloping angle of the river bed. Once I was at the middle, I sat down, feeling the water flowing through me, trying to hear what the forest was saying with all its noises, and made a stance of meditation. I stayed like this for 30 seconds, before opening my eyes, and shouting at Pao to “TAKE MY PICTURE ALREADY! ANG KATE NA NG PWET KO!”

Sabangaran invited you to swim, Sinipit takes you to a land of fantasy, while Nantugaw relaxes you enough to contemplate, but they all pale in comparison to Ganano falls, it’s not even justice to compare, if they were running a marathon, those 3 were on a tight race at 21 kilometers, while Ganano was on the 42KM category. You’d think after 2 days, 2 massive river, 3 caves, a parade of corn and rice fields sprouting through rolling hills, a dance of hundreds of birds hovering over our canoe, injections of adrenaline while on the baging swing, cliff jump or water tubing, the uneasiness of chest deep water inside the cave or the attempt to add new life forms to Tatay Rudy’s cave tour exhibits, that gastronomic wonder that is Pancit cabagan that still haunts my apetite – you’d think after all that, we would be desensitize to awe.

No, we were weak, we are children of the earth afterall, and there, at Ganano Falls, Mother is intimidating. All we could do was stare.