Just trying the add photo tag. Thanks Milktea!

The thump of large rain on our roof was my first clear sign that another summer has just ended. I looked at my arm and noticed that my hard-earned golden tan is beginning to fade, and the chill in the air made me abandon the thought of wearing yet another tank top. I took out my sweatshirt and wore that.

For a few good minutes, I relived, with my eyes closed, all the significant things that happened in this distinctly hot summer. The past season seemed to sizzle with a bit more intensity. Fortunately (or unfortunately, whichever way I look at it), it was short-lived.

Six beaches, too many boys, and one hot summer fling after (a tryst I’m hoping to last ‘til the rainy season) – my more than two months love affair in the sun has brought me so many memories to last me a lifetime. Not bad for someone who just turned silver.

But its the realization that there’s just so many things to see that has truly made an impact on my mind. My travels, although done locally, has taught me so much – about culture, nature, and the diversity of people you label of same nationality as yours. This summer was also an opportunity for self-discovery. I found the adventurous side in me, and made me realize I could do more physical things than just go on a 10-hour mall marathon.

I also discovered that I’m a creature of the sea, always feeling at home where I can walk barefoot even on a very hot sand, where my hair is sticky from the sea air, and my lips lick salt when I taste them.

In this season of rain, I now share with you my summer…

Volcano conquest

The first part of my summer began with an invitation to go to Mt. Pinatubo – considered one of the most active volcanoes in the Philippines. The trek was part of Isuzu’s off-road experience, where we’ll be taking five luxury vehicles (the Isuzu Alterra) along a rugged terrain of volcanic sand, rocks, and rivers. It was very interesting – stuff we know great adventures were made of. It’s a unique experience to see five chic vehicles tough it out on a crazy terrain. There was, however one hitch – after the cars show their strength, it would be our turn to show ours in a 10km hike.

"Techie, have you ever gone mountain climbing?" my editor asked me one day.

"Uh, no ma’am." said I, fully-decked in minis and a colorful top I purchased just the other day.

She looked at my Parisian-inspired black flats (designed with a sleek leopard in one shoe, and a fashionista girl walking her poodle on the other), then stared at me and said "you’ll do, but first show me what shoes you plan to wear."

The next day, I went to the mall and bought myself two pairs of trekking sandals (Lumberjack boots were out of the question). Why two you say? I just had to buy the mountain thongs – those camouflage prints will definitely look good on my olive-painted toe nails. I showed the pair to my editor and she said, "you don’t have to go up the mountain you know, you could just stay at base camp and wait for the others to return."

The worry in her voice was obvious, but I wasn’t just about to stand there and admit I’m not fit to be included in them adventurous ones. So I just smiled and told her, "I just might ma’am, I may not look it but I am pretty physical back in college."

Liar.

"Well if you say so…"

On the first day of my coverage, I found people around me discreetly saying its alright not to go up the mountain, and that the climb might actually bring about a series of conditions – asthma caused by the ash, cramps from crossing wet and dry land, heat stroke, dehydration, etc., etc.

I found out later my editor actually called up the organizers and some of her closest motoring friends and said, "Don’t let my girl up the mountain! She might not make it!" A total boost of confidence on my physical capabilities.

Of course I wasn’t about to back out now. I just had to prove myself. Plus, I just bought two sandals for the trip. OK, just one, but the lovely prints, hello!

And so on the day we were to go up Pinatubo, I woke up extra early to ‘prepare’ myself for the climb. I wasn’t about to whine about our climbing attire – cargo pants, long-sleeved cotton shirt, and ranger cap – a wardrobe-conscious’ nightmare. But hey, I’m no mountaineer so I guess the organizers knew what they were doing when they gave out the clothes.

The Alterras were amazing. They were like Angelina Jolie doing a Lara Croft – sleek and beautiful, but tough and daring at the same time. The vehicles didn’t even flinched when we had to cross waist-deep rivers and vicious boulders going to camp.

The surrounding was also a sight to behold – beautiful and terrifying at the same time. ‘Mountains’ of gray ash hugged the enclaves of the gray valley we had to pass going to the foot of the mountain, and could make one feel as though he is on the set of that 80’s (or was it 90’s?) movie, the Never ending story. There was no sign of life at all.

A few kilometers into the valley, we finally saw some native aetas who were the survivors when Mt. Pinatubo erupted in 1991. I believe they were as curious about us as were of them: We, strange people in uniforms riding on big shiny vehicles, invading their quiet wasteland, and them with their outrageously curly hair and very friendly goats. We went down for a while to make some kind of communication. It didn’t work. We did however, understood the concept of cameras, and they gamely posed with us when we asked them to say ‘cheese!"

At the base camp, I was desperately looking for a clean toilet when one of the guides said, "you have the whole mountain as your toilet ma’am, but please, try to keep the waste down."

He’s kidding right?

Anyway, my search for the little lady’s room was short-lived by the magnificent sight of the gray mountain. A narrow path just ahead of camp, separated by a lively brook, opened the gates to a new adventure. Mt. Pinatubo just opened its arms, and dared me to conquer its beauty.

Gulp.

(to be continued…)