Stepping into another world

Constant white mists, perpetually damp mossy forests, stinging cold and immutable silence plus insect-digesting plants ... Welcome to Gunung Mulu.

MALAYSIA’S World Heritage Site in Sarawak is called the “Gunung (Mount) Mulu National Park”, rather than “Gua (Cave) Mulu National Park”, yet the park is best known for its iconic caves.

There is a Gunung Mulu however, after which the park is named. It’s no anthill: it’s the second tallest peak in Sarawak and can be easily seen from the park’s airstrip on a clear day – an intriguing mystery to anyone who’s seen it and wondered: what’s it like up there?

Park HQ is a lovely place with dense forests covering the entire place with its sheer green mass. The air is fresh and cool, and the flowing, muscular river is inviting.

Our trail started at a sign which informed us that the summit was some 24 km away. We left the boardwalk and trod along a soggy trail, hemmed in by forest giants that soared skywards, with the shade from their unseen canopies dappling the forest floor in delicate flakes of broken light. I was with three friends, and our guide was a handsome Penan called Biago.

Enchanting: The mysterious mossy forest on the way up Gunung Mulu.

The trail from Park HQ to our destination for the day, Camp 3, was a 12km hike through primary forest, with a vertical ascent of over 1,200m. The trail began to climb, gently at first, and then in an unrelentingly steep way, as we crawled slowly upwards into cooler territory.

We trod along the wending path in a permanent semi-dusk, twisting this way and that between gnarled tree roots, walking along the side of steep slopes. A faint trail was marked by daubs of paint on trees, making it easy to follow.

In the late afternoon, the forest turned darker still, and a light, cold rain descended, quickly turning into a torrential downpour. The leaf litter underfoot turned wet and silvery. Tree trunks turned dark, and the deep sigh of rain on leaves became a loud roar.

Visibility dropped, and we struggled to put on raincoats – although we were already drenched, but the raincoats would keep us warm. On and upwards we climbed, slipping on the wet forest floor, shouting above the constant drumming of the rain.

The forest had become wet and soggy and the temperature dropped as we continued to climb the slope made slippery with rain. As evening fell and the gloom was becoming almost palpable, I saw, through a break in the trees ahead, an unnatural right angle.

Nepenthes lowii with the characteristic hour-shaped gourd.

It was a corner of Camp 3, which was raised on stilts and enclosed on three sides, with a balcony and overhanging roof on the last side. It was luxury to be able to change into dry clothing under shelter, while the rain drummed on the metal roof.

The next morning, we started out early. The mossy forest started after Camp 3. It was a strange environment, perpetually damp from cloud cover, which rendered a misty light, from which stunted eldritch trees loomed, their ghostly limbs hobbled and knobbed, festooned with hoary moss and trailing stringy lichens. A thick layer of moss carpeted the ground, soaking noise.

Nestled in the thick carpet of moss by the path was a rare gem, the lower pitchers of Nepenthes Muluensis, a pitcher plant endemic to only a few mountains in Borneo. First described on Mount Mulu, the N. Muluensis is a carnivorous, insect-digesting plant, confined to the upper montane zone.

As we ascended, it became steadily cooler and wetter while trees became correspondingly more stunted, resembling shuffling, wizened geriatrics with canes and cloaks.

We came to Camp 4 after several hours climb. In a small clearing, there was a squat hut, enclosed on all sides except for a narrow door, so that it was dark but dry within. An extended walkway served as the cooking and bathing area with plastic drums catching rainwater.

A pristine river along the lower section of the hike.

Pausing briefly for lunch, we left Camp 4 carrying only small daypacks for the summit climb. As we plunged again into the forest, the terrain became progressively steeper. The trail clung onto steep slopes, from which one side fell away into matted vegetation and the other rose steeply. Ropes had been secured in various places as aids; these, and protruding plant roots, allowed us to navigate the steepest stretches.

We came to stretches too steep and crumbly to climb, save for the knotted ropes that had been tied in place. We were surely reaching the apex of our inverted ice cream cone, the shape of Mount Mulu.

Around us was impenetrable cloud, a white, surging sea which parted briefly, offering tantalising glimpses of a smoking, distant landscape of rugged forested hills and shimmering lowlands.

After a few near vertical stretches which seemed to go on one after another, we gained the summit ridge. It was populated by stunted shrubs and a few ancient looking battered trees with pale, dappled bark and thin, knobbed branches from which trailed wisps of pale moss. Above all, there was an overwhelming silence.

In a few minutes, we stood on the summit of Mount Mulu – 2,376m above sea level (asl). A trigonometric point, a tin hut with old industrial strength batteries in it to power a defunct transmission pole nearby, and a plaque commemorating a Berawan hero, occupied the small space on the summit. Around the periphery, supported on slender vines, blossomed the upper pitchers of N. Muluensis, purple and mottled with pale flecks.

A hiker tackles a steep stretch of the climb with the aid of ropes.

We tarried for only a short while before retracing our steps along the ridge, then plunging over the side for a steep downward journey. With our climb accomplished, and temperatures dropping as late afternoon wore on, our descent was rapid. There were no slanting rays of sunlight to herald the dropping sun, only a lessening of the whiteness around us, a stinging sensation of cold, and the immutable silence. That night, the temperature fell to 14°C inside the hut.

The next morning was bright and cheerful. Around us, the forest smoked with the rising mist and dewdrops glinted in the bright sunlight. At the helipad by Camp 4, we had an unobstructed view of the Mulu airport stretched out far below, of the limestone peaks of Gunong Api and Gunong Benarat, of a snaking river far in the distance, and the forest in its varying nuances of green.

We descended quickly with only a short pause for lunch, and eventually descended to Camp 1. It was early evening, and we were at a mere 200m asl. We spent the night, dry, in Camp 1 after a hot dinner.

The next morning was full of light, the river rushing unceasingly below, as we continued the last leg of our journey, a short 3-hour hike back to Park HQ. I was reluctant to leave the forest behind, with its timeless pace, and yet was impatient for the comfort of a dry warm bed, a change of clean clothes and a hot meal at the canteen.

Eventually we reached the boardwalk and we stopped to look back. Although it was only 24km away and we had just climbed it, Gunung Mulu, cloud-wreathed and mysterious, seemed like it was on a different planet.

Preparing for the climb

THE Summit climb to Gunung Mulu is well regulated and organised. Consult the Mulu National Park website for “The Summit” climb (www.mulupark.com/htm/forest_activities/index.htm#mulusummit).

The climb can be booked through a commercial operator or done directly through the Park HQ. Because of limited space in the huts, there is an imposed maximum of 15 persons at any one time. Generally speaking, this is not a popular hike, in spite of the thousands of visitors who visit the park annually. Note that pre-booking and the services of a guide are mandatory. The fees (refer to the website for the rates) cover the use of the huts and guide services. If needed, porters can be hired at an additional cost.

Although the park website cautions about “being prepared to stay in basic forest huts”, in actual fact, the facilities are excellent. There are three huts – Camps 1, 3, and 4 (there is no Camp 2) along the way, and they are sturdy and well-maintained. All huts have running water and cooking utensils, which are locked in metal cabinets, with the guide holding the key. Cooking stoves are provided, although gas canisters must be brought up by hikers. Canisters can be purchased at the Park HQ canteen. All huts have squat toilets, a little distance away from the huts.

Sleeping bags and mats are needed, as the huts have bare wooden floors or raised wooden platforms for sleeping. It can get rather cold at night. Unless you’re booking with a commercial operator, you have to plan your meals and carry up all food, and carry any rubbish down.