Regret came with every step—at least in the beginning. Between the biting cold, the thin air, and the early, early morning darkness, the hike up Mount Pulag in Benguet was a shock to the system for those who, like me, do not usually climb mountains “for fun.” 

But, as it is with this kind of trip, the reward wasn’t just the destination; it was the company, the journey, the discovery of what one can *still* accomplish, and the possibility of taking on other new adventures.

Those who know me know I am not the outdoorsy type. However, exploring new destinations, especially the offbeat kind, was an activity that I thoroughly enjoyed when I was a college student and eventually when I covered Travel for the Inquirer. Whitewater rafting? Check! A river trek through the mountains that requires you to jump off a 45-foot waterfall and rappel down a higher one at 60 feet? Bring it on!

Body ache and fatigue were a sure thing after each trip, but I was young and it took less than a day to bounce back.

Third highest peak

So, almost two decades later, when my husband Ryan’s colleagues invited him and me to join the trek up Pulag, I felt major hesitation. We had scaled Mount Batulao earlier this year — an adventure that in some parts, required us to hang on to ropes and rocks to avoid falling down its steep cliffs — but Pulag felt more intimidating: It is, after all, the country’s third highest peak (apparently dethroned from second highest in 2017 by Davao’s Mount Dulang-Dulang). 

I considered the prospect: Batulao took me a full day and a half to function normally again. What would Pulag do to me?

But, we were told, encouragingly, the hike up Pulag involves a slow, steady slope because we’d be taking the friendlier Amabangeg trail; plus, there’d be lots of forest cover as opposed to Batulao‘s grassy terrain that left us exposed to the sun,  and we’d enjoy the cool weather. Still, Ryan and I were of two minds about it — up until a couple of weeks before the climb. Why the heck not, we told ourselves, and even decided to make a trip of it with the kids and our senior parents (of course, they stayed back in Baguio City, where we did a bit of sightseeing afterwards).

The entire trip was graciously planned by Esther Lingao, the wife of TV5 news anchor Ed Lingao. She arranged for a “monster jeep” to take us from Baguio to our Pulag home stay — what are called inns but are essentially rooms in the locals’ homes that they rent out to travelers — which she also booked. (I highly recommend CloudGazer Home Stay to those planning a trip to Pulag; it is clean and well-kept, has plenty of space even for multiple groups, and is the closest one to the jump-off point to the summit.)

Before getting to our home stay, we made two stops: one for breakfast at a roadside carinderia, and another at the DENR (Department of Environment and National Resources) office in Bokod, Benguet, where all hikers are required to attend an orientation about Pulag, and have their blood pressure taken to be cleared physically fit for the climb by a doctor. 

Sunday start

We left Baguio at 6 a.m. on a Sunday, were at the DENR office by lunch, and arrived at our home stay around 1 p.m. 

We took the time to rest and refuel our bodies for the hike scheduled on Monday 1 a.m. The goal was to reach the summit by sunrise, in time for us to marvel at and take photos of the sea of clouds, before hiking back down and returning to Baguio for lunch.

Alarms went off at midnight, and at 1 a.m. sharp on Monday we were at the door of our home stay to meet our three guides. We would have two stops before reaching the summit: Camp 1 an hour away, and Camp 2 in another hour. From there, we were expected to reach the summit in another couple of hours.

This timeline, as I discovered, was not for everyone, especially for the likes of me who had to stop after each steep climb (“like climbing stairs,” the guides would say, if your stairs were meant to be uneven and narrow and unnaturally high). I did not monitor my time, but I felt it was well over an hour when we reached Camp 1. At this point, I was leaning toward heading back — it was dark and the idea of returning to my bed in the home stay was very, very tempting — because I was having a hard time breathing. The group’s sweeper, Manang Wella, instructed us to remove some of our jackets: We could be overheating because of the hike, despite the cold, she said. Of course, she was right; I removed the thick sweater I was wearing under my jacket, leaving me with a comfortable three layers of clothing.

The hike starts in what is called Pulag’s mossy forest, where you pass through tall trees and different kinds of plants. In the dark, we couldn’t fully appreciate all the flora, so it was a treat to see the display in full light on our way down. Ryan and nurse Maan, also part of our group, even got to taste the fresh leaves of a local plant; Manang Wella refused to tell us the name until they had chewed on it, saying it would wake them up and give them more energy. Ryan and Maan both described it as “spicy,” almost like chewing on chili. But it was finding out the name of the plant that woke us all up — *inutotan* (literally, “farted on”). Manang Wella also let us sample some fresh blueberries.

You know you’ve reached Camp 2 when the trees start to clear and you are greeted by dwarf bamboo plants, which grow no higher than your hips. It was at this stop where, as we were taking a long breather, we were treated to a beautiful view of the night sky including the streak of stars of the Milky Way. There were no more thoughts of going back, just genuine happiness at seeing a night sky no longer visible from our lowland urban homes.

It was also at Camp 2 where a decision had to be made: Do we hike another two hours to reach the summit, or do we head to a closer peak only 30 minutes away, so we can definitely catch the sunrise? At this point, most of the members of our group were well on their way to the summit; the rest of us, at our pace, would not get there in time to see the sunrise, our guides told us in all honesty. 

Our only question was: Do we get the same view, either way?

Meeting the sun

Once it was confirmed that we would definitely see the sea of clouds regardless of which path we took, we hurried toward the lower peak, which the locals call the “tower” because it is the site of an actual one — a weather monitoring station. We got there in time to meet the sun as its golden rays peeked through the clouds, and were rewarded with a peaceful patch of mountain all to ourselves, as we sipped on hot coffee and ate breakfast.

And, yes, Pulag’s promised sea of clouds did not disappoint. The view did not change all throughout our short stay at the peak, as if asking us to simply sit, be still, and take in the beauty of God’s work.

So, no, we did not reach Pulag’s summit, which is 2,296 meters above sea level. But we came darn close, enjoyed great company, and took home beautiful memories to last us a lifetime. Or, at least, until we get the itch to conquer the next mountain. CS