Who would have thought that I could get a chance to scale the highest peak in the Philippines, the Mt. Apo. It was both a dream and a challenge for me. We went there during the election season, and despite unpredictable weather and stricter checkpoints due to election-related incidents, our group of 12 adventure seekers pushed forward with our two-day climb. It was a now-or-never moment, and we were determined to reach the summit.
We went to Davao very early in the morning. We will be taking the Santa Cruz trail and before going to our designated jump off point where we officially commence our hike, we need to ride on a 4 wheelers truck passing through rough roads.
We started our trek at around 9 AM, warming up as we made our way to the jump-off point. The lower part of the trail had a serene, forest-like ambiance. Even under the sun, the thick trees provided a cool and refreshing climate. The towering trunks and rustling leaves gave us energy, making the long walk feel less exhausting. However, as every seasoned hiker knows, the real challenge was yet to come.
After covering four kilometers, we still had six kilometers more to go before reaching the summit. By this time, we had already been hiking for nearly two hours, and a part of me entertained the idea of heading back home to binge-watch Netflix. But no—this was a commitment, and there was no turning back.
The chirping birds, the gentle breeze, the swaying trees, and even the occasional drizzle seemed to cheer us on. It reminded me of life itself—challenging and exhausting, but something to be enjoyed every step of the way.
Though my body was tired, I could feel it thanking me. The sweat pouring out, the muscles working hard, and every deep breath I took made me feel alive. We still had three hours to go before reaching our campsite, where we would rest for the night. Resting was an option—but stopping was not.
After nearly four hours of trekking (which was faster than the usual five-hour hike), we arrived at our designated campsite. Setting up our tents felt like a small victory. We refueled with a comforting meal of beef soup with corn and pancit, and it was easily one of the most satisfying meals I’ve ever had—nothing beats eating warm food in the mountains!
As the night deepened, the rain continued to pour, and the cold became unbearable. But instead of completely sealing my tent, I left a small opening to enjoy the sight of the trees and birds. It was far better than any movie or series—it was real, raw, and peaceful. We had just a few hours to rest before the final assault at 1 AM.
By midnight, we woke up groggy yet excited. It would have been nice to stay wrapped in our sleeping bags, but we had a mission to accomplish. So, under the dim glow of our flashlights, we ventured into the dark forest.
At this point, I wasn’t even sure what I was stepping on—mud, leaves, tree branches, or rocks. It didn’t matter. We simply followed the trail, trusting the process. Life is like that sometimes; you feel lost, but you have to keep moving forward, one step at a time. We don’t always see the full path ahead, but as long as we have light—even just a little—we’ll make it.
As dawn approached, we reached the boulders section. The massive rocks were both fascinating and intimidating, remnants of Mt. Apo’s volcanic past. The scent of sulfur filled the air, and the temperature dropped significantly, reaching as low as 5-10°C. Fog engulfed us, reducing visibility to nearly zero. It felt like Mt. Apo was telling us to leave, covering its beauty with thick clouds.
Despite the bone-chilling wind, I actually enjoyed the boulders. They were difficult to climb, yet oddly comforting. It made me realize that sometimes, the things we fear are the very things that protect us.
As we neared the crater, the wind grew stronger—almost at typhoon levels. My vertigo kicked in on the steep ascent, but there was no room for hesitation. I didn’t come this far just to turn back.
Upon reaching the crater, we took a brief 10-minute pause to gather our strength for the final push. But the cold was relentless, draining our energy. Still, with encouragement from one another, we pressed on.
Finally, after a grueling nine-hour cumulative hike, I stood at one of Mt. Apo’s seven peaks. At 10,311 feet above sea level, I was literally on top of the Philippines. And to top it off, I was the first in our group to reach the summit!
However, nature had its own plans. Thick fog, strong winds, and an absent sunrise robbed us of the stunning views we had hoped for. Mt. Apo was playing hard to get—but that didn’t take away from the sense of achievement.
Out of our group of 12, only four of us made it to the very top. The rest decided to stay behind at the crater due to the harsh weather. It was a reminder that in life, we all have our own limits, and that's okay. The important thing is to know your own goals and trust your instincts rather than follow what others are doing.
For those who have climbed Mt. Apo multiple times—twice, thrice, or even more—I salute you. This is no ordinary mountain. It will test your endurance, character, and determination.
Will I come back? Maybe. Some say Mt. Apo hid its beauty from us so we’d be tempted to return. And honestly, that makes sense. I now have a reason to climb it again.
This journey was truly one for the books—an experience I will treasure for the rest of my life.
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