I think I stopped hiking before I even turned 30. Late night parties, smoking, alcohol (no drugs, I swear!) and corporate slavery took over my life; until I saw a friend’s post last year, 2023, about her hike up Mt. Pulag.

I felt her bliss, and it immediately transported me back to the days when I would catch the sunrises and sunsets amidst seas of clouds from the summits I’ve reached.

Now at 58, I’m still hiking and constantly asking myself during each hike if it would be my last. So I committed to go hiking at least once a month to keep the momentum. Of course there would be gaps because of various reasons (work schedule, weather conditions, etc.). Whenever I skip a month, I would get nervous for the next one for fear that my aging body won’t be able to take it anymore.

First hike

My first hiking experience took place more than three decades ago. I don’t remember the exact mountain, but I’m certain that it was in Batangas. Back then, we don’t ask the name of the mountain (a shame, I know), the difficulty level, the MASL, or the trail type. We just go, content that we will experience it with friends.

I remember rock climbing, rappelling, and cave trekking as part of my first hiking experience. We camped overnight, staying up late around the campfire as we sang until we got hoarse. Needless to say, we had very little sleep as we had to wake up really early for the activities ahead. The only casualty during that adventure was my friend’s guitar, which he unintentionally left outside the tent. It got warped from all the moisture it absorbed from the mist.

I don’t have pictures of this hike, but the memory is tucked inside my heart and mind. I didn’t care about taking pictures because all I wanted was fun, experience, laughter, and friendship. They say memories fade as you grow older, but certain good memories remain forever. I think this one will last.

Mts. Fato and Kupapey

We went up Mt. Fato (1438 MASL) mid-afternoon. I was hoping to catch the sunset at the summit, but we were too early and we had to go back to our homestay to get some rest for our early morning hike to Mt. Kupapey (1647 MASL) the following day.

It was during this hike where I met a fellow quinquagenarian who was, I believe, two years younger than me. She had no problems ascending both mountains since climbing is part of her life. I, on the other hand, dread this part of the hike. I’m not heavy-set, but carrying my 52-kg body weight takes its toll on my thighs and knees every time I climb. So there she goes along with the young hikers, while I struggle at the tail-end of the group (as always).

Descending, on the other hand, is my strength. I have learned how to position my body and feet going down so as not to put pressure on my knees and ankles. Pang-miss universe is what I call it. I gave her my walking stick for her support.

We caught the sunrise at the summit of Mt. Kupapey, although its view was slightly covered by tall pine trees. What’s fascinating was the view of the rice terraces of Maligcong down below. It was harvest season when we were there, so the rice grains glowed like gold under the rising sun. We got a closer glimpse of this beautiful sight as we reached the foot of Mt. Kupapey on our way back to our homestay.

Regrets

I’m not getting any younger (duh!), and I’m trying to use the mental and physical strength I have left to go hiking. It’s the one thing I love doing the most, and I’m willing to do it even with strangers.

The friends I used to hike with are no longer around to join me. Some of them have gone abroad, some have lost the drive and passion, while others have passed on. What keeps me going apart from my love for hiking is the fact that much older people still hike to this day. I’ve heard of a 60-something who went up Mt. Apo. I saw a video of a 71-year old who hiked with his family to Mt. Makiling.

I’m not sure if I could replicate what they have accomplished, but I will certainly try.

I regret that I stopped hiking when I was at my prime. I regret that I didn’t get to know more about the mountains I’ve climbed. I regret that I can no longer hike with my old friends. I regret that I will carry these regrets until the day that it’s time for me to pass.

That is why whenever I have the chance, I tell my young fellow hikers today: habang kaya nyo pa, akyat lang nang akyat.