Disabled by polio since the age of three, she gives the initial impression of vulnerability, as she is helped by male staff going up and down stairs, and into her vehicle. But make no mistake -- she has a steely will.

Out of pity, "Gob" refuses to arrest the bugadors. But she has mobilized the Army to march up the Abuan River to confiscate logs and their sawn byproducts, called tablon.



Over the past two decades, the Abuan River has been a highway for contraband wood logged in the precious forests of the Sierra Madre. Hundreds, perhaps thousands, of bugadors skilled in the ways of a treacherous river have made their living here, braving the rocky currents to supply narra, lauan and other precious wood species to Isabela's famed furniture industry. But the trade has long been illegal and is wreaking havoc on what is one of the planet's most valuable forest ecosystems. It became an established trade and livelihood because no one before Padaca has seriously tried to stop it. As her task force rounds up the wood, she is under pressure from other politicians in the province to just let it go for another year.

"I warned you that I'm going to confiscate," she told an audience of barangay captains appealing for a grace period. "But it didn't stop. When are we going to start if not now?"

The northern Sierra Madre is home to the rare and endangered Philippine Eagle, the Philippine Crocodile and countless plant and tree species, many of which are found only in this corner of northern Luzon.

The wood industry has always been well protected from the law, with local government and DENR officials earning tidy commissions from the lucrative trade. That's why Padaca risks not just her political capital and popularity with this move, but perhaps her safety.



While hiking up the Abuan River, and spending a night camped out on its banks, I realized it's not just the forest that's at stake in Padaca's ambitious plan. The river itself is special. I have been travelling around the country, to many remote areas, for more than 25 years, and this is the first river whose water I can drink without boiling or treatment. It is a sweet taste and a sweet feeling that seemed to transport my senses to an ancient time when all humans could drink the water that flowed next to their homes.

Some scenes from the same river below:



We didn't see a single boat with a motor, another feature of the river that gave it an otherworldy air.



Bugadors unable to transport contraband wood now resort to fishing.



My cameraman Egay Navarro shoots the rapids as our hired bugador navigates our bangka through the rocks.



Soldiers were assigned to give us security. But since they had more enemies here than we did, I'm not so sure their presence made us more secure. Isabela was the cradle of the New People's Army, and still provides a leafy sanctuary for guerrillas who occasionally ambush men in uniform.



Downriver at the checkpoint, the soldiers could afford to relax and have their backs scrubbed. Their bathing platforms are confiscated planks of illegally cut wood.



Back on land with the home boys and girl, my I-Witness team on this trip: (from left to right) camera assistant Mark Sayson, moi, researcher Cris Sto. Domingo, assistant cam man Jessie Bernardo, executive producer Noi Cuanang, driver Jaime Dizon, and cameraman Egay Navarro.