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In the darkness of the early morning hours I pointed my torch toward the precarious climb before me-an almost perpendicular face of granite rendered dangerously slick by torrential rains. After hours of what had been a rigorous ascent, I finally stood close to my goal. "Only half-hour more," urged Yapp, my short and sturdy mountain guide. He spoke little English, but sensing my fear, held out his hand and beckoned reassuringly, "Come, you can try." I wanted to believe him. At the same time, I knew this last stretch to the summit was the steepest and most difficult leg of the journey. My flimsy plastic slicker had been reduced to tatters and my clothes underneath soaked through; while brutal, pounding winds threatened to turn my bad cold into pneumonia. Looking straight up, I could see it was a simple matter of pulling myself up the thick rope that dangled from above. Exactly where did it lead? The top of the rope soared into a thick mist, into what seemed like infinity. I never should have stopped at that hotel tour desk, I thought. Yet it had been inevitable-I longed dreamed of scaling Borneo\'s legendary Mt. Kinabalu. Though tiny by Himalayan standards, at 13,455 feet it is Southeast Asia\'s highest mountain and the centerpiece of Sabah, the East Malaysian state formerly known as British North Borneo. A premier adventure travel destination, Sabah offers an incredible variety of outdoor activities within easy reach of its capital, Kota Kinabalu. From this city of 200,000-well served by a wide range of accommodations, restaurants, and an international airport-the visitor can explore tropical rain forests, wildlife sanctuaries, coral reefs, rivers, limestone caverns, hot springs, and more. The enormous massif and surrounding park are Sabah\'s crown jewels. The mountain\'s jagged, sawtooth silhouette, often cloaked by a ring of fog, dominates the landscape and it is both intimidating and hauntingly alluring. Mt. Kinabalu further entices because of its history and myths. The local Kadazans, the indigenous ethnic group to which Yapp belongs, believe their ancestors\' spirits reside on the mountain. A popular legend traces Kinabalu\'s name to the Kadazan words "Aki Nabalu," meaning "Revered Place of the Dead." The Kadazans still conduct an annual religious ceremony at the summit, complete with prayers, incantations and slaughtered chickens. As no records of locals scaling the mountain had ever been kept, the first recorded climb was registered by Sir Hugh Low, a British government secretary from the nearby colony of Labuan, who reached the summit plateau in 1851. He refrained from going to the very top of the mountain, concluding that it was only accessible to "winged animals." He repeated the expedition several years later with his friend Spencer St. John, the British consul in Brunei. His feet badly swollen, Low again failed to reach the top, but St. John continued, only succeeding to learn that the peak he had conquered was dwarfed by two even higher peaks to the west and east of him. It would be another 30 years before zoologist John Whitehead and his Kadazan porters would reach the summit, now named Low\'s Peak. In 1964, Kinabalu Park was established to preserve the mountain and its fauna and flora, much of it unique to Borneo. The park\'s 291 square miles are inhabited by more that 100 species of mammals, including orangutans, red leaf monkeys, gibbons, and flying lemurs. More than half of Borneo\'s 518 species of birds have been recorded here, the most conspicuous being the toucan-like pied hornbill. The plant life is no less exotic. Amidst the lush vegetation are 1200 orchid species, 450 fern species, 26 Rhododendron species, 60 species of oaks and chestnuts, and nine species of insect-eating pitcher plants. The most spectacular display, however, is put on by the bright-red Rafflesia, the world\'s largest flower, which in full bloom can measure three feet across. To just stumble upon it is unusual. One guide told me that in a decade of leading park tours he had seen the Rafflesia in full bloom only twice. It\'s said to smell of rotting meat. Of the park\'s 200,000 visitors a year, a tenth attempt the summit climb. The oldest person to reach the top was an 83-year-old New Zealander; the youngest, a nine-month-old baby carried on its father\'s back. Of course, the way to the top is a great deal easier than it was a century ago. The mountain is now touted as one of the easiest to climb, with steps, footholds, railings or ropes to guide the way. Gurkha soldiers have tackled the hike to the summit and back in less than three hours, but most trekkers take two days, breaking up the climb with an overnight stay at the comfortable Laban Rata guest house, or more modestly furnished huts, at 10,700 feet. The second leg of the journey starts from the guest house at 3 a.m. and lands one at the top some two and a half hours later, in time to view the sunrise. I opted for the two-day plan, reserving a space at the guest house through my hotel tour desk, which also arranged for transportation to the park and the services of a mountain guide. While no special mountaineering gear or skills are needed, one should be in good physical condition and properly outfitted. For me, this meant hiking boots, tee-shirt, jeans, and two pairs of polypropylene socks, hat, light woolen sweater, long underwear, windbreaker, gloves, and a torch for climbing in the dark. I also brought a lunch, canteen, camera, notepad, small first aid kit, lightweight rain jacket and change of clothes in a plastic sack, in case of an unlikely, dry-season downpour. Two days later at dawn the tour desk van whisked me from my sea level-hotel to park headquarters at 5,100 feet. The 90-minute drive wound past rice paddies with water buffalo, terraced vegetable gardens, and roadside stalls staffed by Kadazan villagers in traditional garb. As we ascended, the vistas become breathtaking, yielding vast panoramas of lowland rain forests and valleys. It was going to be a glorious climb, I thought-until we reached the headquarters, where it was drizzling. At headquarters, one registers, confirms accommodations, and hires a mountain guide-a requirement for all individuals or groups of climbers, even though the trail is clearly marked. My guide, Yapp, looked about 25 years old. He was short, trim, had a boyish face framed by a thick black Beatles cut. I was told he spoke little English but to feel to ask him for anything I needed. It was a two-mile drive from the headquarters to the Timpohon Gate trailhead at 6,000 feet. While the drizzle had dissipated, the trail was nonetheless difficult. The first especially exhausting 25 minutes rose through steep, steaming jungle; the subsequent five-hour stretch was like climbing Stairmaster?at the highest setting in a gym without air conditioning. Yet, if one could imagine comfort at such a strenuous chore this would
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