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@philsonfoot
Bataan Death March Route Map - Mariveles to San Fernando
I created this map using GPS tracking software during my hike. As far as I know, it is the first GPS mapped track of the entire Mariveles to San Fernando route. You can zoom in and see the route turn by turn.
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Day 5: Mission Accomplished
It took me two hours to find the Old PNRR Capas Station. Part of the problem was that there were two different “shrines,” one being the Death March Memorial Shrine on N. Manila Road, which is 14km away from Capas National Shrine, my actual destination. I got off my bus near the former shrine, photographed it, then took a tricycle into Capas proper and started searching for the train station. I stopped an elderly gentleman and asked him. He happily told me it was just south of us, over the bridge, and then proceeded to engage me in a conversation about the history of the area. After 10 minutes I thanked him and excused myself. Turns out the train station isn’t remotely close to where he said it was.
Eventually I someone passing me while I was asking a tricycle driver about it overheard and told me the location: Brgy Santo Domingo III. Fantastic. Off we went. From the train station (which is not preserved like the San Fernando train station is), it was about a 5.3km walk to Capas National Shrine. When I showed up at the gate, the guard told me admission was 50 pesos, and then he asked me where I came from. I told him I walked from Mariveles. His eyes went wide and he began rummaging through drawers looking for something, eventually pulling out a guestbook that obviously wasn’t much used (I was the only signature of the day, even though a dozen people were inside, and the last signature was dated two weeks prior). I smiled and signed the book, and then the guard told me I could go in free. I insisted on paying but he refused to take my money. What a nice gesture for the end of my trip. Photos to follow.
Day 5: Capas to Camp O'Donnell
Stayed up late, got up late. At 11:30 I'll find a jeepney to Capas* and hike the last 6 kilometers to Camp O'Donnell. *If I can't find a jeepney to Capas, I'll get one to Angeles and I'm sure the terminal there has one to Capas.
(If you follow any of these posts, read THIS one.)
I happened upon the old PNRR San Fernando Station unexpectedly; I thought it would be at km103, but it turned out to be km102, and the last couple markers were only about 600 meters apart, so I came upon it quickly.
I was standing in front of the gate, in awe, feeling a sense of accomplishment, when a soft voice behind me said “Did you come from Mariveles?”
“Yes,” I said, without turning.
He came around into my field of vision. “Are you American?”
At that question I almost started to cry. For four days I’d been traveling like a ghost, eliciting curious stares from passersby, or treated like a novelty by those willing to start a conversation. Few asked my name. But this little bespectacled man with a kind face was the first person since I started that intuitively knew anything about me. And he found me. “Yes,” I said quietly.
His name is Fernando Sanchez, Jr. and his house is across the street from the train station. He spoke to me in Tagalog and i answered him in English. His family has maintained the station for many years. His grandfather, Mariano Sanchez, was the station master before the war. He showed me a photo of the old station, and I photographed him holding it. He’s been living there all his life. Now he is a retired sheet metal worker. I asked where the rails were. He told me some were pilfered by scavengers and the rest were buried under a foot of ash when Pinatubo erupted.
Then I asked him if the station was ever opened, and he produced a key, and let me inside, which I also photographed. I took some video of the statues as well. There were also photos that I chose not to photograph, of the march underway. One was of an American soldier being bayonetted by two soldiers of the Imperial Japanese Army. It was both hard to look at, and then hard to look away.
See the statues? Look at the faces of the three men helping each other. My God.
Tito Fernando told me the first American who walked the Bataan Death March from Mariveles he met, was in 2012. Before that, there were some Japanese that walked it, and some Europeans. He wanted a photo with me, and wanted me to print and sign my name: while exploring history, I inadvertently became a part of his history: he looks for those who hike from Mariveles like me, so he can record their participation and learn about them.
I thanked him for his hospitality and he gave me a souvenir laminated copy of the old station and the current one, shot from the same perspective, and a keychain of the same.
It has been a wondrous trip. Tomorrow, Capas and Camp O'Donnell.
#bataandeathmarch #march4peace
The PNRR San Fernando Station when operational.
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Death March Markers km50 through km59
Death March Markers km40 through km49. Missed marker km43.
So my 10k jog yesterday morning turned out to be a fluke. I tried it again in the afternoon, and after 400 meters, my body said "If you don't stop, I'm going to make you stop." I came to the conclusion that I need to do that in the morning, when my legs are fresh and I haven't been in the sun for hours. No dice. I woke up at 3:30am burning for something to drink. Took half an hour to get back to sleep. Up again at 6am to hit the road. Tried jogging, again to be told by my body (after 200 meters this time) that there won't be any more running on this trip. I'm just glad my body tolerates the walking. Shortly after mid-day I realized I'd taken the wrong road at a fork a kilometer and a half back. This was soul crushing. That's a total of three extra kilometers I have to walk, adding 40 minutes to my trip, and meaning I might not make San Fernando by sundown. For some reason on my way back I crossed the street, and at the edge of the field by the road, I saw a rumpled, tattered, dirty Philippine flag. People watched as I picked it up and folded it in the American manner (I'm not sure how the flag is folded here) into a triangle, then put it in my shoulder bag. If I hadn't taken the wrong road, and if I hadn't crossed the street right at that moment, I would not have seen the flag. Amazing.
Hi! This is my location: http://droid.mtdev.it/?14.93934715:120.59228825 Sent with Here I Am!
I've exited the Bataan Peninsula and crossed into Pampanga. Pushing on to San Fernando.
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HALFWAY POINT: My Body Starts to Rally
I started today (Bataan Death March hike day 3) with a sense of forboding, because I have to go 28 km today to make my evening destination, the town of Dinalupihan. From there I jump off to San Fernando the following day. It takes me 2 hours to hike 10 km. That's with no stops. So 28 would take about six, no stops. That doesn't seem impossible, but in this heat, when I'm walking full speed, after 2 hours my heart is working hard at 140 beats a minute, and I risk heat exhaustion if I don't stop and cool down. The prisoners went at half my speed. I've run 10k races in the past, and I can comfortably run 10k in an hour. So that'd what I did my first hour this morning. Being in trail shoes instead of sneakers and carrying a 4kg bag slowed me a bit, but I did 10 markers in an hour and 20 minutes (yes I walked a little), leaving me 18 more for the day, which seems a lot more reasonable. My blisters don't hurt so much as they are starting to turn into callouses. My back isn't hurting like before. My body is getting accustomed to the water ration and I'm less thirsty than yesterday. But the lack of food is bothering me more every day, especially after this morning's run. The strength gain I'm feeling is both unexpected and fascinating. After I photograph DMM km60 I'll try to find WiFi and upload the next couple marker photo sets. #bataandeathmarch #march4peace
End of Day 2
Today I started out at 8am. I did not eat or drink anything until 1pm. Today by 2pm I'd gone the same distance I had by 6:30pm the previous day. I decided to stop early because I don't want to have to end my day in a remote location. Why? Because if I get held up and stabbed I want to be in a place where there are a lot if people. 1) There is more likely to be a clinic around and 2) More people make for a better chance someone will help me. That all sounds extreme, but I'm alive today because I think like that. Anyway, let's talk about nor eating or drinking for five hours as you walk in the sun. Not eating makes you feel weak. It makes you not walk as fast. The hunger pangs gnaw at you. The dehydration is worse. I didn't want to be tempted to drink water, so I didn't even carry any. My saliva turned to paste in an hour. In four, the paste was receding, leaving dry spots that burned until I swallowed, but swallowing sometimes caused the back of my throat to get dry, which made me cough. It was like there just wasn't enough moisture to go around. The heat and deprivation caused my emotions to cycle wildly as well. They ranged from seething anger at people yelling at me from cars like I'm a zoo animal, to deep regret for deciding to embark on this journey in the first place, to a sense of dispair that I may not finish: that I may give up and quit. Then I'd think about the shame I'd feel having to tell everyone I couldn't hack it. Then I'd get angry at myself for even thinking about that. All in all, deprivation of food and water brings one to a pretty dark place. When I finally drank water, I tried to just have a sip but my body was greedy. I had to force myself not to chug the 500 ml bottle. I drank half of it, and still felt a parching thirst as I walked for the next 15 minutes, as my body tried to make me finish the bottle. Another special hell was the fact that I was passing eateries, displaying rotisserie roasted chicken in their windows, or emitting the smell of cooking pork. They didn't help with the hunger. My heat rash is worse. I have blisters the size of one peso coins on my feet, and I'm going out to do this again for two more days, God help me. Honestly though, experiencing this range of emotions and sensations is teaching me a lot about myself, my limits, and what can be endured. And I'm glad to know that. #bataandeathmarch #march4peace
Death March Markers km31 to km37. Marker km38 was never erected. I missed km39.
Death March Markers km21 to km29. Missing km27 which was destroyed by vandalism some years before, and I somehow missed km22.
Starting Day 2
I decided to let my body sleep as long as it wanted, so woke up at 7:30am after 9 and a half hours of sleep. Now I'm hitting the road. Let's see what sort of distance I can cover with the limited water and food today. I have to make Balanga, will try to make Orani.
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LATE POST: Death March Markers km11 through km20. (I somehow missed km13)
End of Day 1
I was advised it was not safe to sleep outside, so I’m in a motel, feeling my joints begin to stiffen now that they are relaxed. Let’s talk about walking 23 kilometers in the sun when yesterday you were a 40-year-old who gets no exercise and never spends more time than it takes to hail a cab under the sun.
I was on my feet today for about 10 hours. All of that time was hiking. I climbed about 400 meters today. I mentioned at 10am thst my feet hurt. By that time I’d done 7km. It took me 8 more hours to do 14 more. Why? After your feet start to hurt, they don’t get any worse. They are just at that level of pain the rest of the day. The problem is over time, other things start to hurt. For me, by 2pm, my upper back hurt. Around 4pm my ankles didn’t feel too steady and I was stumbling every 45 minutes or so. At 6pm my knees started to ache and that’s when I knew I needed to stop soon. Also, as more parts of me started hurting, I started taking more breaks. That was it’s own torture because every time you stop, your joints relax and when you start again they hurt more for a few minutes.
I’m starting to develop a heat rash in the last place you want a heat rash. Oh yeah, good times.
One liter of water a day is not nearly enough. Today I decided to drink as much as I wanted to see what I normally would consume. That amounted to three liters. Tomorrow I will keep it to one.
I was surprised that only eating a cup of rice didn’t bother me so much. I suspect that because my blood sugar was normal from yesterday’s regular meals. Tomorrow is likely to be another story.
I’m not sure why, but my batch upload of Death March Markers km11 through km20 didn’t go through. I’ll have to try that again shortly.
Tomorrow I’m starting much earlier and see how far I can make it by noon. Continue the rice ratiin and add the water ration and we should see what I’m made of.
#bataandeathmarch #march4peace