IMPASUGONG, BUKIDNON: 2 PEAKS and 2 WATERFALLS
By: Edsel E. Jeon
Immediately after my Mt. Apo day hike via the Sta. Cruz Trail, I headed to Kapatagan Terminal to catch the 6:15 PM bus to Digos, where I was supposed to wait for a hiking group from Panabo that would pick me up at midnight for our trip to Columbio, Sultan Kudarat for the Bong Bato Peak hike.
The plan sounded simple enough:
Climb Bong Bato Peak → separate from the group → head to Koronadal → quick side trip to either Lake Holon or Lake Sebu.
I arrived in Digos City at around 7:00 PM and quickly learned that the 7-Eleven branch, where I was supposed to meet the group at exactly midnight, was located along the Digos super highway area—with barely any cafés nearby where I could comfortably stay and wait for several hours.
So, instead of awkwardly waiting inside a convenience store until midnight, I decided to check into a hostel near the Night Market so I could at least take a quick nap before climbing another mountain.
After a quick dinner at the Night Marker, I finally had time to sit down and check if my newly created itinerary actually made sense—or more importantly, was even geographically feasible.
After computing travel times, reality suddenly hit.
It would take around three hours to travel from Bong Bato to Koronadal City, plus another hour to reach the jump-off point of one of the lakes I intended to visit.
Translation? Very unrealistic.
So, I informed the organizer that there was no need to pick me up anymore at 7-Eleven Digos, because I had officially decided not to join the group.
WHEN SPONTANEITY TAKES OVER...AS ALWAYS.
I fell asleep and woke up at around 7:00 AM the next morning with absolutely no backup hiking itinerary. I remembered telling myself I should have listened to Arnz’s suggestion to climb Mt. Apo again—this time via the Kapatagan Trail. But at the time, I had stubbornly refused. I wanted to “maximize” my travels, which, in my mind, meant hopping across as many different trails as possible.
The next mission:
Figure out whether I should go back to Dipolog via Koronadal City or simply retrace the longer route I took from Dipolog to Digos.
And this is usually the part where my
spontaneous brain suddenly becomes alarmingly active.
I remembered that taking the same route would mean
passing through Malaybalay City, Bukidnon.
And if there is one thing hikers know about Bukidnon, it’s this:
The province is packed with mountains, ridges, trails, and natural wonders waiting to be explored.
In an instant…a completely new destination was selected: Bukidnon.
CHECKING THE TRAILS OF BUKIDNON ONLINE
I immediately searched for hiking groups based in Bukidnon, and the top result could not have been more obvious. Bukidnon Hikers.
The very first post that caught my attention featured Mt. Kiamo. So, I researched about the mountain...
Tempting. Very tempting.
But considering my estimated travel time to Bukidnon, I knew there was no realistic way to finish a day hike there before nightfall.
The next option:
Mt. Capistrano—standing at 650 plus MASL, was also a popular post and more feasible given that my estimated arrival time in Bukidnon was around 2:00–3:00 PM.
Still, just in case the bus arrived later than expected, I prepared other backup options as well.
THE OPTIONS, THE GUIDE, and THE ITENERARY
If you browse the Bukidnon Hikers Facebook page, you’ll quickly realize how many tour packages and local guiding services are available—especially around the Impasugong area.
I sent a message to the first trail guide who posted the latest ad... KIMBOY QUERUELA.
To my surprise, he replied almost immediately.
I explained my plan of hiking Mt. Capistrano later that afternoon and asked if I could avail of his services—not only as a trail guide, but for transportation and drone photos and videos as well for my Monday itinerary.
He sent several suggested options, and I was surprised of how " budget friendly " his packages were that I had to clarify the information for at least two times just to be sure.
If you want to inquire of his services, you can visit his FB page by clicking the link: https://www.facebook.com/share/1E5sqY4p5g/?mibextid=wwXIfr
At first, I considered visiting only one of the popular scenic destinations in Impasugong, the Panimahawa Peak.
The bus arrived at around 5:15 PM.
At that point, it was obvious that Mt. Capistrano was no longer happening.
So, I asked Kimboy to modify the plan and add an extra peak that we can access nearby the Panimahawa Peak and add the Cedar Park side trip as well.
Bong Bato—the original peak I had planned to visit—has long been marketed as the “Mt. Pulag of Mindanao,” thanks to its famous sea of clouds. But as it turned out, Mindanao wasn’t exactly short on options. There were plenty of other mountains offering their own version of that dreamy, cloud-covered spectacle, and Panimahawa Peak in Impasugong, Bukidnon stood out as one of the most popular choices.
To improve our chances of catching that elusive sea of clouds—and to wrap things up early since I still had to head back to Malaybalay City then to my hometown, Dipolog City right after the hike—Kimboy suggested we start early. Think 2:30 to 3:00 AM.
Impasugong, our jump-off point, sat conveniently close to Malaybalay City. Our agreed meeting place, Impalutao Integrated School, was only about 20 kilometers from the city terminal.
I arrived at the terminal around 2:20 AM, expecting at least a bit of activity. Instead, I was greeted by… almost nothing. Just one other passenger with two oversized pieces of luggage, a few tricycles lingering in the shadows, and a van bound for Cagayan de Oro. No buses in sight.
Now, I’ve had my fair share of “adventures” with terminal vans, so I tend to avoid them when I can. Let’s just say their concept of “leaving soon” is… flexible.
Right on cue, one of the drivers approached us and delivered the classic line:
“Dri mo sakay namo… molarga na ni hapit na… fast trip ni…”
Translation: “Ride with us… we’re about to leave… this will be a fast trip…”
A bold claim at 2:30 in the morning with only 1 passenger inside the van.
I politely declined. The other passenger—a balikbayan heading to Impasugong—did the same. She missed her stop earlier while traveling from Cagayan de Oro and now found herself stuck at the terminal, waiting for the next bus back.
By 3:00 AM, still no bus. Meanwhile, the van had managed to gather four passengers, who had probably been sitting there since 2:30, holding onto that hopeful “about to leave” promise.
At around 3:15 AM, I checked with a tricycle driver to see if they can take us to Impasugong. He was refreshingly honest. Given the uphill road to Impasugong, the darkness, and the slim chances of picking up passengers on the return trip, he explained that it would cost around ₱1000 per person if we insisted and told us to either wait for the bus or take the van.
For context, the usual rates from Malaybalay City to Impasugong:
- ₱40 by bus
- ₱50 by van
And the travel time? Just 20 to 30 minutes.
When a fifth van passenger finally showed up, we gave in and boarded the van… which, of course, still took another 20 minutes before it actually left the terminal.
So much for “molarga na ni... hapit na.”
IMPASUGONG, BUKIDNON AND ITS MANY WONDERS.
I arrived at our meeting place around 4:05 AM—already more than an hour behind our planned start time. So much for that “early start” strategy. Still, my trail guide was there, fully prepared, waiting with his motorcycle… and, of course, his drone. Priorities.
Without wasting much time, we headed off, riding along a narrow road behind the school that led to the registration and orientation area. The morning air was cool, the surroundings still wrapped in darkness, and the silence made it feel like the entire town was still fast asleep—except for us.
Why the extra trail guide? I wondered the same thing.
It turned out there was a strategy behind it. To avoid long lines at Panimahawa Peak, Kimboy had to ride ahead and secure a priority number somewhere near the summit.
Yes—a priority number.
Apparently, this system exists to prevent random strangers from casually inserting themselves into your carefully framed sunrise shots. No unexpected “extras” in your selfies or groufies. A surprisingly organized solution to a very real problem.
With that settled, Kimboy sped off while I stayed behind to begin the orientation.
Now, about the substitute guide, Tiboy...
If you’re wondering what’s with the “boy” trend in their names, there’s actually a simple explanation. Tiboy and Kimboy are first cousins. Since I had added two more destinations to the itinerary, Kimboy looped him in to help out. I guess...Teamwork. Sharing.
He handed me a waiver form to fill out, then walked me through the basics—the trail distance, the terrain, and what to expect along the way.
One thing he emphasized stood out more than the rest: many of Bukidnon’s natural attractions are managed by local indigenous tribes. As part of the entry ritual, visitors are required to offer a coin—a small but meaningful gesture asking for safe passage and a respectful visit.
Not exactly something you’d want to skip.
Soon after, we began the hike. It was just the two of us, moving quietly through the vast, open landscape of Bukidnon. No crowds, no noise—just the soft crunch of footsteps and the occasional whisper of wind.
It was a Monday, after all.
Then we reached a point where the trail split, and I instinctively turned right since the path looked clearly open. It felt natural—almost too natural.
“Sir!” Tiboy called out, stopping me mid-step. “Wrong way.”
He walked ahead, straight to a fence I hadn’t even noticed properly. Without hesitation, he opened it like it was the most normal thing in the world.
That’s when my overthinking kicked in. I had to ask the obvious question—did he actually know what he was doing? And more importantly, was it even okay for us to pass through there without asking permission?
Tiboy didn’t even blink.
He explained, casually, that the gate wasn’t there to block hikers at all. It was simply meant to keep cows from wandering too far into the wrong direction.
So basically, I had just been respectfully intimidated by a “cow barrier.”
The view along the trail to Paminahawa Peak felt like an open invitation to start planning another trip to Bukidnon soon.
From various points along the hike, you are rewarded with sweeping views of the surrounding mountain ranges—almost as if the province is quietly tempting you to come back and explore more.
Among the mountains visible from the area is Mount Kitanglad, the 4th highest mountain in the Philippines, located within the same mountain range as Mount Dulang-Dulang, the 2nd highest mountain in the country.
Seeing them from afar somehow made me realize that one spontaneous trip to Bukidnon will probably never be enough.
PANIMAHAWA PEAK
We finally reached the base of Paminahawa Peak, where Kimboy was already waiting—together with one of the caretakers responsible for maintaining one of Impasugong’s most visited attractions.
Despite it being the start of the week, the area was already buzzing with visitors. There were easily more than 50 people at the peak, with at least seven or more drones hovering in the sky, all trying to capture that perfect Sea of Clouds moment.
According to Kimboy, the hike to Paminahawa Peak is somewhere between 2–3 kilometers. Unfortunately, I had left my Garmin watch, so there was no way to confirm how close his estimate actually was.
Unlike other mountain trails, there is actually a wide rough road connecting visitors to nearby attractions such as the Communal Ranch and several other peaks around the area. This makes the route relatively accessible, even for those who prefer not to hike the entire way.
As we started our ascent, I gave Kimboy one important instruction:
I didn’t mind taking my drone shots away from the main crowd.
The goal was simple:
Sea of Clouds + fewer people + uninterrupted drone moments.
Since many visitors reached the peak by vehicle instead of hiking, there was already a long queue of people waiting for their turn to have photos and drone videos taken. Even though we had our priority number, there were still quite a few groups ahead of us.
Thankfully, Kimboy knew the area well and managed to find quieter spots where we could avoid the crowd.
And in all fairness…
he captured some really beautiful moments with my phone and his drone during my visit to Panimahawa Peak and Pinalak-Akan Peak.
Here are some of them.
This is NOT the true peak of Panimahawa.
The area is actually divided into three sections, and each section has its own marker displaying the same elevation (MASL)—even though some sections are clearly lower in elevation than the others.
At first, this might seem a bit confusing, but it actually makes sense.
Since Panimahawa Peak attracts a lot of visitors, especially during sunrise and Sea of Clouds season, having multiple signage areas helps control the crowd flow and prevents everyone from gathering in just one spot for photos.
This is the TRUE Panimahawa Peak.
Unlike the other sections, this area appears to have the shortest ridge, which probably explains why fewer visitors choose this spot for their drone moments.
Most people seem to prefer the wider or more spacious sections where there is more room to move around, pose, and capture dramatic shots with the Sea of Clouds.
But for me, this turned out to be the perfect spot for my drone moment.
Most importantly, Kimboy managed to capture the exact kind of shot I had envisioned—simple, scenic, and with the beauty of Paminahawa Peak doing most of the storytelling on its own.
After my official drone-shooting debut, I told Kimboy to start packing up his things because I wanted us to head to the next destination right away.
Time was still a major factor since I needed to travel back to Malaybalay City afterward.
But Kimboy hesitated.
He told me there were still two more drone areas in Panimahawa Peak that I absolutely should not miss because each offered a different and unique views of the landscape.
I reassured him and said,
“Don’t worry… one drone moment per area is enough for me.” 😅
Besides, I was already happy with the footage we had captured, and in my mind, we still had other places to explore anyway.
Still, Kimboy looked a little unconvinced.
It was obvious that he genuinely did not want me to miss some of the other scenic highlights of what many ( or is it just social media? ) consider one of Impasugong’s “it” peaks.
On our way back to the base, Kimboy and Tiboy suddenly insisted that we make a quick stop at another popular spot nearby.
According to them, this one no longer required a drone to appreciate its beauty.
I was hesitant at first since we were already supposed to leave, but when I saw that there were only four people in line, I thought:
“Ok… why not?”
When it was finally my turn, Kimboy immediately asked for my phone and started directing me...
“Try a different pose.”
“Look there.”
“Wave your hands.”
This spot, fondly dubbed by my tour guide as the “Hanging Boulder of Paminahawa,” unexpectedly became one of my favorite areas on the peak.
At first glance, it might seem like just another photo stop, but the combination of the landscape, elevation, and dramatic backdrop made the experience surprisingly memorable.
And in all fairness…
the photos turned out really impressive.
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To be honest, I was not entirely sure which mountain he was referring to since we were surrounded by so many ridges and peaks that all looked equally inviting from afar. 😅
As I started preparing myself for another hike, Kimboy suddenly suggested that I ride on his motorcycle going back down to the base since the road from our current location was connected directly to the jump-off area of the next destination.
On the way, we passed by a scenic pineapple plantation before reconnecting to the main road.
If I’m not mistaken, the ride covered around 5 kilometers from the base of Paminahawa Peak.
Panalak-Akan Peak is actually a relatively new attraction in the area—so new that even Google Maps still does not seem to recognize its existence yet.
From the jump-off point, the hike is roughly around less than a kilometer uphill.
Unlike Paminahawa, Panalak-Akan Peak features a wide, open, and completely bare summit, giving hikers unobstructed panoramic views of the surrounding landscape.
From the top, you can admire the rolling ridges nearby, distant mountain ranges, and even parts of the pond or lake area of the Communal Ranch, all adding to the scenic charm of the place.
And of course…
Here are some of the photos and videos that Kimboy captured during our visit to Panalak-Akan Peak.
NEXT STOP: CEDAR PARK
Unlike the peaks we had visited earlier, Cedar Park sat right along the heart of the
Impasugong National Highway—
At this point, Kimboy’s role was simple: drop me off, leave me to explore, and head back home.
Flying a drone in the area wasn’t exactly beginner-friendly, so he told me he would just drop me at the orientation area, head home quickly, grab a hammock, and return—apparently planning to take a peaceful nap while I explored.
I confidently told him there was absolutely no need for that. I wasn’t even planning to stay more than 30 minutes. The goal was straightforward: take photos of Cedar Park’s four waterfalls and call it a day. Easy.
But Kimboy, insisted on getting the hammock anyway.
He introduced me to the person in charge of the orientation, and that was when reality began to set in—30 minutes might not even be enough to reach the first of the four waterfalls.
We started with the basics:
The registration fee ranged from ₱120–₱150.
The guide fee was ₱300 for up to five people. Though honestly, getting one guide per person was a solid move. There were 42 of them, and they didn’t just guide—they doubled as photographers and videographers too. Not a bad deal.
Then came the important rules:
You had to offer a coin before entering the area.
Each waterfall came with its own estimated travel time—and none of them sounded “quick.”
You had to wear something suitable for swimming. Yes, that meant bringing extra clothes whether you liked it or not.
Swimming shoes were available for rent at ₱50, but I stuck with my trekking boots…
mainly because they were already preparing to be washed.
Wearing a life vest was strongly emphasized, especially since some sections
were at least 10–12 feet deep.
And perhaps the most heartbreaking rule of all: not all waterfalls were accessible at any given time.
During my visit, only two were open—Gantungan Falls and Natigbasan Falls.
The other two, Dila Falls and the one I had been most excited about, Makabayot Falls, were off-limits for safety reasons.
After the briefing, the staff introduced me to my guide, Abnel.
And just like that, we set off toward Cedar Park’s first wonder—Gantungan Falls.
Gantungan Falls sat dramatically between two massive rock walls, forming what felt like a natural tunnel. The rushing water created a powerful gust of wind that blasted straight through the gap—strong enough to make even standing still feel like a challenge.
Abnel and I were clearly no match for it. He struggled to keep the camera steady (and probably dry), while I, completely unaware of his behind-the-scenes battle, carried on like a seasoned actress... lol!
Natigbasan Falls was conveniently located near the stairs, and getting there was surprisingly effortless—you could literally just float your way in.
It was, quite fittingly, a true “go with the flow” kind of moment.
I had so much fun exploring the waterfalls of Cedar Park that I didn’t even realize it was already close to 12 noon. We headed back to the orientation area, where I quickly dried off, said my thanks, and invited Kimboy and Abnel to join me for lunch before I headed back to Malaybalay City.
At 2 PM, I boarded a bus bound for Cagayan de Oro, then transferred to another ride that eventually brought me safely home to my beautiful hometown, Dipolog City, around 4 AM the next day.
Looking back at my spontaneous decision to climb the mountains of Digos and Bukidnon, I can only feel grateful. We are truly blessed to be gifted with such breathtaking natural wonders—places we can enjoy anytime, if we choose to seek them out.
And because of that, we also carry the responsibility to protect them, so that future generations can experience the same beauty, or even more.
See you again somewhere soon. Pohon!
