29/05/2025
"Itโs heartbreaking to see people miss the real message of the mountains: silence, peace, and presence."
We can no longer deny that mountaineering in the Philippines is growing and evolving. With that growth comes a choice: to adapt to the changes or to remain rooted in the values we were first taught.
When we look back at the earlier days of Philippine mountaineering, weโre reminded of the people who paved the way for us. They were the ones who introduced the mountains to many of us. The community was smaller then, with less noise, fewer organized climbs, but more grounded. While there were toxic ones even back then, many of them deeply respected the mountains. Iโve always admired how some seasoned mountaineers generously shared their knowledge without making newcomers feel small. On the flip side, there are those who carry themselves with arrogance, forgetting that mountains are meant to humble, not inflate egos. Itโs humility, not pride, that earns you a rightful place on the trail.
Today, the community is bigger, more active, and unfortunately, often louder. With the rise of social media and organized events, weโve also seen a rise in practices that disregard the very soul of the mountains.
We used to get peace from the mountains. Now, we are bringing the chaos of humanity to the mountains.
And in doing so, we risk forgetting why we climb in the first place.
Let me share my own story.
A few years ago, I found myself deeply drawn to the mountains during a time when I was going through a lot emotionally. I was overwhelmed, and the peace and calm of the mountains helped me breathe again. That connection sparked a deep desire to keep climbing. During one of those climbs, our group believed we had secured proper permits to summit a particular mountain. Only when we arrived did we learn that the permit only allowed us access to a certain area, not the peak. We were already there, and we made a mistake. I was heavily criticized for it. I tried to stay quiet out of fear because in this community, people can be quick to attack and slow to understand. But I take full ownership of that mistake. The bashing stayed with me long after the issue faded. I never posted about it again, but it ghosted me. Still, Iโve carried the lesson.
Since then, Iโve summited many mountains and met hikers from all walks of life. These experiences taught me to read the signs, to listen, and to respect what the mountains are trying to tell us. But not all those experiences were beautiful.
Iโve climbed Mt. Apo three times. The first was before the pandemic. Our group of seven were the only ones on the trail. It was quiet, sacred, and unforgettable. But the last two times felt different. Noisy campsites, piles of trash, and climbers who seemed to have forgotten why they were even there. Itโs heartbreaking to see people miss the real message of the mountains: silence, peace, and presence. And itโs not just Apo. Itโs happening all over the country.
What troubles me even more is hearing other climbers brag about summiting closed trails. I donโt feel entitled to judge. I was once like them. But the difference is, I was never proud of doing it. Today, some still boast about it, and that makes me sad. Sad because it feels like the authorities turn a blind eye, and sad because the mountains deserve better.
We often talk about two options: stick to the old ways or go along with the new. But maybe itโs not about choosing between them. Maybe we can do both. Adapt to this growing community while carrying forward the values of those who came before us. After all, the seasoned mountaineers we look up to now were once beginners too. And one day, weโll be the seasoned ones to the next generation.
Letโs help one another. Letโs guide, not gatekeep. Letโs preserve the mountains together. Because itโs never too difficult to enjoy the mountains and protect them too.
