Mt. Apo DAYHIKE via Sta. Cruz Trail:
Is it for beginners?
By: Edsel E. Jeon
INTRODUCTION
After my trekking debut in South Korea, I made it a personal mission to keep exploring—and more importantly, to start telling stories closer to home. This time, the spotlight shifted to the Philippines.
Geographically, the country is divided into three main regions: Luzon (where the capital is), Visayas (often called the “Island of Festivals”), and Mindanao—the third, the largest, and in my completely unbiased opinion, the most beautiful of them all.
And the mountains? They quietly backed up that claim.
Based on available data online, 10 of the Top 20 highest peaks in the Philippines are in Mindanao, 9 are in Luzon, and only 1 made it to the Visayas.
Looking at the Top 3, Mt. Apo stands tall at 2,954 MASL, followed closely by Mt. Dulang-Dulang at 2,938 MASL—both proudly rooted in Mindanao. Mt. Pulag, at 2,922 MASL, completed the trio up in Luzon.
Mt. Dulang-Dulang sits within the same range as Mt. Kitanglad, the country’s 4th highest peak at 2,899 MASL. Which basically means… if you’re feeling strong (or slightly overconfident), you can traverse between peaks in a single adventure. Or add a third one. Because yes—that’s how blessed Mindanao is when it comes to mountain ranges.
Mt. Malindang at 2,404 MASL is the closest to my hometown, Dipolog City, with its jump-off point just around 55–60 kilometers away.
Originally, my plan was to start my Mindanao hiking journey with Mt. Malindang. It can be done as a day hike, although many hikers prefer to camp overnight since most visitors come from different parts of Mindanao.
In my case, a day hike would have been more ideal since it’s relatively accessible from the city. The only problem was that not many people from my area were into this kind of hobby yet—or so I thought, since there was very little online presence when I tried figuring out how to process my registration—no convenient “join-a-group” system where you could just pay a fee and everything else (permits, guides, transportation, and so on) would be handled for you.
So instead of recruiting other hikers and processing everything myself, I decided to join a group from Davao that originally planned a 2D1N Mt. Malindang expedition.
And yes—that meant I had to buy a tent and other camping essentials for a hike I initially planned to do as a day trip. On top of that, I had to shoulder the same fee as everyone else, even though I would only be meeting them at the jump-off point.
There are many beautiful mountains to explore in the Philippines, but one major barrier that stops many people from actually doing so is transportation—specifically its duration—and, most of all, the cost.
Just a week before our scheduled climb to Mt. Malindang, the organizer dropped the news: the event had to be cancelled. They couldn’t secure the necessary permits because an important LGU activity had taken over the same dates.
And just like that… Mt. Malindang was officially off the list.
Fortunately, my ever-generous cousin, Manang Cayen, happened to be in town. And she has this very unique habit of randomly handing out Ang Paos to her cousins, nieces, and nephews—people she still lovingly treats like babies, regardless of age.
Now, to be clear, this “random” generosity is completely separate from her other, more organized habit of giving Ang Paos during specific times of the year. Yes, she has a system. And yes, apparently some of us are on a schedule.
Luckily, her perfectly timed red envelope arrived right when the Mt. Malindang plan needed a reset.
And just like that… changing plans ( to Mt. Apo ) became very easy. Thank you, Manang Cay.
Here's a quick background of Mt. Apo:
Different sources cite varying measurements for Mount Apo, with some claiming its highest peak exceeds 3,000 meters above sea level (MASL). However, the most widely accepted elevation today—used by hikers and most published references—is 2,954 MASL.
As for its summit, Mount Apo is often described as having three main peaks. Some sources provide distinct elevations for each, while others suggest that these peaks are nearly equal in height, making it difficult to distinguish a clearly dominant summit beyond the recognized highest point.
GETTING THERE
As mentioned earlier, Philippine trails and peaks are generally accessible—if by “accessible” I meant open for hiking or trekking.
However, accessibility in terms of actually getting from Point A to the jump-off point of a popular trail like Mt. Apo is a completely different story.
Transportation-wise, there are many options available. One could travel by air, land, sea—or, in true Filipino travel fashion, a combination of all three.
Take my case for example. Mt. Apo is located in Region XI of Mindanao, while my hometown is in Region IX. To reach the jump-off point of Mt. Apo, I had the following options:
I chose the longest route since the plane tickets were already very expensive the moment I checked the airline website.
THE REGISTRATION FEE AND PROCESS
Trekking Mt. Apo is regulated. One could not simply go there on their own, climb to the summit, take a selfie, and head back down as if it were a casual stroll in the park.
Instead, hikers are required to coordinate with an accredited guide and secure several requirements such as permits, a medical certificate, seedlings, and other necessary documents.
Of course, you do not need to handle everything manually, as there are many organizers available online. Depending on the package and the chosen trail, registration fees typically range between ₱3,000 and ₱4,500 (50-65USD).
The fee usually includes most of the essential services needed for the climb. However, it is always important to check what is included—and more importantly, what is not.
For example, do not assume that a tent, which is absolutely essential for most climbs, is included in the package.
My guide for Mt. Apo was recommended by my friends Irene and Jun2x. Arn, of “Arn’z Mountain Tour,” is known in the local hiking community and has built a strong reputation as a reliable organizer.
The guide: Arn’z of Arn’s Mountain Tour. (6) Arn'z Mountain Tour | Facebook
And honestly, this quick background alone was enough to make you consider booking him immediately:
- He is (if I’m not mistaken) the current president of an association for trail runners in the Philippines.
- Fastest recorded ascent of Mt. Apo via the Sta. Cruz Trail. How fast? 2 hours and 41 minutes… out and back. Yes—round trip... up and down. You can check the details on his Facebook page.
He offered several Mt. Apo packages, and I chose the Sta. Cruz Trail Day Hike for ₱2,500, plus an additional ₱350 for the homestay.
Some groups completed this trail through a 2D1N package, while others opted for the longer and more relaxed 3D2N itinerary.
In my case, the main reason I chose the Day Hike option was simple—I would not have to carry a heavy load during the trip, especially while making the ascent to the summit.
Trek porters are actually available for an additional fee. You just have to coordinate with your organizer if you want to avail of their services.
Arn’z made it clear from the start: the day hike would begin exactly at midnight. Simple plan—but with a strict timeline that everyone was expected to follow.
Before the trip, I even checked online to estimate the distances between checkpoints—partly to mentally prepare myself, but mostly to answer the real question:
Can I still squeeze in photos and videos?
Because let’s be honest—if it’s your first time somewhere, documentation isn’t optional. It’s part of the mission.
With an estimated total duration of 15 hours and 45 minutes, covering around 20–24 kilometers (depending on which version of the internet you believe), I quietly convinced myself—like it had a choice—that there would be more than enough time for content creation.
In my head, everything fit perfectly. Was I correct?
May 13, 2026 (Wednesday)
I headed to the Dipolog Integrated Bus Terminal and caught the 6 PM air-conditioned bus bound for Bulua Bus Terminal. The fare was 745php.
True to its schedule, the bus departed exactly at 6 PM.
The trip, however, quickly turned into a fully packed journey. The bus picked up passengers across various municipalities along the way, and with each stop, the occupancy level climbed closer to “sardine mode.” What followed was a familiar Philippine bus experience: people standing in the aisle, kids having tantrums, adults streaming different videos and sounds on their gadgets without headphones, and of course, the bus’s own entertainment system trying its best—as it played movies with audio that came in and out like a weak radio signal.
By around 8 PM, we made a quick stop at Calamba, Misamis Occidental, Philippines. I used to bike through this area back when I was training for triathlons.
While most passengers eagerly rushed toward the nearby “karenderia” stalls to enjoy their favorite local meals, I made sure not to miss Calamba’s well-known specialty—my personal must-have: a pack of Salbaro, or as many know it, Pan Bisaya.
After that, I settled in for some rest. I eventually dozed off and later moved to the first available aisle seat so I could stretch my legs from time to time.
May 14, 2026 (Thursday)
We arrived at Bulua Terminal in CDO at exactly 2:45AM.
What I thought was a qicker travel time to CDO from my hometown since the traditional way of waiting for the barge to get to the next island has been repaced already since the Panguil Bridge turned out to be the same or even longer since the total travel time took around 8 hours and 45 mins.
From this point, I had to transfer to the Agora Bus Terminal which handles East and South Bound areas.
It was around 8-10KM away and there were several transport options to go there. The quickest was probably by “ habal-habal “, then by multicab, the slowest since you passengers had to wait until all seats were taken and a taxi, the one I took since I was aiming to catch the 3AM bus to Davao.
Unlike the bus from Dipolog to CDO which left on time as scheduled, the CDO to Davao bus did not leave the terminal until 20-30 passengers occupied the seats.
The bus left at exactly 3:23 AM.
One thing I immediately noticed during this part of the trip was the legroom—it was noticeably wider than usual, which made things surprisingly comfortable for a long ride.
However, the “noise pollution” situation remained constant.
At one point, the bus made a quick stop. A man with a megaphone was announcing something I could barely understand. One by one, passengers stood up and got off for what they called the “Foot Wash.”
Some participated, some stayed asleep, and others simply didn’t care at all—which honestly made the whole idea of it being “mandatory” feel very optional.
About 2.5 hours later, we arrived in a very familiar place: Malaybalay City, Bukidnon. I used to spend summers here as a child, but this time, everything felt different. So much had changed that I could no longer recognize the area near the park where we used to stay. Malaybalay City is often considered a jump-off point for hikers heading into the equally beautiful trails and peaks of Bukidnon.
By around 6:30 AM, the bus made another quick stop for breakfast.
Then at around 10:55 AM, the conductor instructed everyone to alight again for another “mandatory something…”
“Duh! Let's just stay here... "”
And honestly, I also wanted to stay on the bus because it was already getting hot outside—but again… documentation is important.
At first, I thought it was another “foot wash” situation that people didn’t take seriously. But I was surprised when I saw passengers bringing their luggage, walking into a cubicle, and passing through X-ray machines operated by military personnel.
That’s when it became clear—it wasn’t a foot wash at all. We were entering the boundary of Davao City. The “mandatory stop” was actually a security screening to ensure no prohibited items were brought into the region.
We arrived at Davao City Ecoland Bus Terminal at around 11:45 AM.
At that point, I had already been traveling for 17 hours and 7 minutes from my hometown in Dipolog City to Davao City.
From there, I proceeded to buy a ticket for the Davao to Digos trip. The journey took around an hour and 15 minutes, with a fare of 120 pesos.
Best feature... the sound system was not scratchy... lol!
From Digos Bus Terminal, I transferred to the Business Center Terminal via a tri-cab. Fare was P100 for a solo ride.
The travel from Digos to Kapatagan took around an hour for 80php.
The bus was small, crowded, and noisy. But unlike most major buses, the ride felt oddly entertaining. Since majority of the passengers were from Kapatagan, conversations came naturally—once someone mentioned a familiar topic, others would instantly join in, making the whole trip feel lively and communal.
TOTAL TRAVEL TIME FROM DIPOLOG CITY TO KAPTAGAN, DIGOS: 22.5 HOURS
From Kapatagan Terminal, I rode a bao-bao (tuk-tuk) heading to Mt. Apo Flower Garden Mountain Resort, where I stayed and WAS SUPPOSED TO camp for the night.
OK… BUT WHAT HAPPENED TO MY CAMPING PLANS?
I had recently bought a tent, but I still couldn’t fully imagine myself carrying it—along with a sleeping pad and all the other camping essentials—on my back throughout the entire trip and hike.
Still, I really wanted to experience camping, something I had never even tried as a child.
Fortunately, Apo Flower Garden Mountain Resort offered camping options:
Naturally, I went with the obvious choice. Besides, both options already included breakfast.
So technically… I’m a backpacker. Just the modified version.
Kidding aside, I’m still in the process of fully embracing the idea that carrying a tent, sleeping pad, and everything else is part of the authentic camping experience. I’m just… not fully there yet.
I mean, if there’s a way to enjoy the experience without hauling everything up the trail myself—and it’s affordable—then why not? Less weight, less energy expenditure, same adventure.
Before heading to the resort, we made a quick stop at the local market to buy avocados and bananas for our meals. We arrived around 5PM and headed straight to reception, where a very accommodating staff welcomed us.
(Yes. Imaginary Jungkook officially entered the storyline at this point. Lol!)
Me: Hello… my name is… and this is my... Is our tent ready?
Staff: Regarding the tent… are you really sure you want to camp out tonight?
FYI: The camping area was supposed to be right in front of the resort, exactly where shown in the photo above.
Me: Of course… How many campers are going to be here tonight?
Staff: Just you… Actually, you’re our only customer today. Let me call the manager first…
Manager: Hello. Regarding your camping plans tonight, our tents are water-resistant, not waterproof. Heavy rains are forecasted this week, so I highly suggest upgrading to one of our A-Room accommodations instead.
Me: Oh! I see… okay. How much do I need to add?
Manager: Since we don’t have any bookings today, we’ll upgrade your accommodation for FREE.
And just like that, my first official camping experience transformed into something slightly more… glamping.
Thanks to the wonderful management of Apo Flower Garden Mountain Resort, we ended up having a very comfortable sleep—especially considering that heavy rain poured nonstop from around 11PM until morning. In hindsight, that free upgrade probably saved my tent debut from turning into a floating tent experience.
FYI: I really had plans of camping out...
prior to check in, I asked for a sample photo of the camp site.
this was supposed to be our accommodation...
May 15, 2026 (Friday)
I woke up early and went for an easy morning walk around and outside the resort, appreciating the beautiful view of the majestic Mount Apo and the vibrant flowers that surrounded the property.
I went back to the resort and ordered their special cheese-burger supreme for breakfast and of course, requested the staff to prepare my avocado/banana shake. I stayed for a while to chat with the manager and left for the town center.
Upon arriving at the Kapatagan terminal, my guide, Arn’z, informed me that his wife would meet me instead, as he was still waiting for other hikers to return to base camp.
While waiting, I bought a pack of freshly opened jackfruit and asked one of the café staff if she could make an avocado-banana shake for me—which, thankfully, she did.
A little later, Sherill, Arn’z’s wife, arrived and brought me to the homestay.
For those unfamiliar, a homestay is usually included as part of the registration package for major hikes. It’s optional, but organizers generally prefer hikers to stay there so they no longer have to fetch participants from different locations and can begin the climb exactly at midnight.
Sherill dropped me off at the homestay, where I found myself completely alone. It was located along the highway, though, so at least it didn’t feel too isolated.
For the May 16 day hike schedule, Arn’z only had two actual clients.
No… not imaginary Jungkook.
He was the 3rd. Lol!
It was just me and another hiker from Cebu, who was expected to arrive later that afternoon.
Now, to be fair, homestays are not meant to be fancy. Their main purpose is simple: to provide hikers with a safe and convenient place to rest, sleep, freshen up, and prepare before the climb. In the case of a Day Hike Itinerary, hikers normally start to get ready by 10PM.
The homestay assigned to me had basic amenities—a toilet, bathroom, and two separate rooms. I had the place all to myself—or at least, that’s what it felt like. Technically, I wasn’t completely alone, since another client from Cebu was expected to arrive later that evening.
The only problem?
There were no beds, pillows, or blankets. There were, however, hammocks—the durable cloth type that could probably carry at least two people.
Of course, experienced hikers are expected to be fully adjusted to sleeping arrangements like that already… right?
But remember… I’m still in the process of learning and adjusting to the basics of hiking and trekking.
An air conditioner or electric fan would normally have been helpful too, but in Kapatagan, late afternoons and evenings usually turn chilly to cold anyway.
Our call time was 11:30PM, and at that point, getting at least four hours of proper sleep—at a time when my body clock clearly thought I should be doing literally anything else—was already a challenge on its own. Still, I knew that finding another place to sleep wasn’t just a luxury or me being "ma-arteh" or " high maintenance for no reason"; it felt like an essential part of the preparation to climb the highest peak in the Philippines.
So… I politely informed Sherill that I would transfer to the nearest inn instead—somewhere the group could still conveniently pick me up before heading to the jump-off point.
The nearest was Oranda Inn. They have a facebook page and they also have a direct view of Mt. Apo.
Contact #: 09195356179
1-1.5km away from the bus terminal.
All their single rooms were fully booked. One was supposed to be vacant by 3PM but the client was still in Mt. Apo.
Fortunately, the couple who owned the inn turned out to be incredibly kind. They gave me a special rate since I would be checking out early anyway and even allowed me to use a larger room meant for five people so I could rest immediately without waiting for the single room to become available.
As if that wasn’t generous enough, they also let me leave my bag there during the hike and let me use the shower after the day hike.
I love it when business owners and their staff are not just ready—but genuinely delighted—to serve. It makes the whole experience feel warmer.
May 16,2026 ( Saturday, Midnight )... May 15,2006 9:30 to be exact.
Technically, I had started hours before midnight, since I needed at least two full hours just to properly prepare myself.
Arnz, the guy from Cebu, and a porter arrived at the inn around 11:30 PM. Not long after, we headed to Desander—a short ride to the jump-off point.
When we got out of the vehicle, I was immediately caught off guard by the porter, a guy in his early 20s, carrying a massive bag that looked more like a plastic tub strapped to his back. I asked him why he was hauling so much when there were only four of us. That was when I learned he was actually carrying extra gear for two more hikers who had registered late and were already waiting at Sitio Colan.
FYI: I did not hire a porter. The porter who arrived with us was assigned to carry all the group essentials included in the registration fee, along with other supplies for additional hikers who had registered late.
Our " kusgan " porter, Lance.
Then came the more interesting part.
The guy from Cebu showed up in what looked like a very “minimalist” hiking outfit: a dry-fit shirt, dry-fit shorts, and a pair of Hoka shoes. His bag was designed to carry just two water bottles—except he only had one.
At that point, I quietly wondered whether he was either a seasoned trail runner who knew exactly what he was doing, or someone attempting his first mountain hike with absolute confidence… and zero idea what to bring.
I leaned more toward the “experienced trail runner” theory, especially after learning he had flown in from Cebu—specifically Bantayan Island—then had to rent a van from Davao all the way to Kapatagan just because his flight schedule wouldn’t allow him to catch the last trip from Digos. At that point, I figured he must be like Arnz—a pro-trail runner.
I introduced myself, and it turned out he had a relative I actually knew personally. That small connection quickly broke the ice, and we exchanged quick details before Arnz signaled us to start the hike toward Sitio Colan.
The distance from the Parking Area to Sitio Colan was 1.20KM. It took us 25 minutes to arrive at the assembly area. Here are some photos I took on the way back to the parking area.
Sitio Colan was a key point in the trail, serving as the main orientation and briefing area.
Hikers planning to camp overnight—especially those who had arranged porter services—were required to have their bags weighed by authorized personnel there.
As expected, the place was already filled with hikers: some carrying oversized backpacks like they were preparing for a multi-month expedition, while others, like me, chose to pack light. This time, I made sure to stick strictly to the essentials for a day hike—no extras, no “just in case” items I’d regret carrying halfway up the trail.
So... What did I carry?
Hiking Bag Weight:5.5kg
The Drone that " Got Away. "
The drone was a late addition to my “essentials.” Normally, activities organized by accredited groups included drone photos and videos as part of the registration package—very convenient, zero effort required. But it wasn’t part of mine. So, I decided to buy my own.
Thankfully, a friend suggested against buying a high-end brand (even the “cheapest” model). He pointed out that operating a drone could get complicated—especially for someone proudly non-techy like me. That advice probably saved me from an even more expensive heartbreak.
So, I went with a cheaper brand. I went to Linabo Peak a day before going to Kapatagan, Digos... and yes—my friend was absolutely right. Flying a drone is not exactly “user-friendly,” especially for someone like me. I couldn’t even get it to stay steady when it was supposed to “stay in place.”
Well… to cut the story short, the drone apparently wanted to become independent. It took off after I pressed the Fly/Land button, and then ignored every command I pressed, and confidently flew in its own chosen direction—like it had somewhere important to be. Eventually, it disappeared beyond the reach of the remote.
We resumed hiking at exactly 12:48AM from Sitio Colan to Sitio Tumpiz.
The group was divided into 4 with Arnz assigned to guide the Lead Group. Those who can reach the 1st summit before 6:30-7AM can visit the other 2 summits. Those who will not reach specific checkpoints on expected time will no longer be allowed to do so.
I joined the Lead Group. I think there were 7 of us. Since we started at 12:48AM instead of 12:15, Arnz maintained a pace that still allowed us to arrive in each check point based on the original itinerary. In a way, we started faster as expected... but it was tolerable as were not running the uphill trail.
We did not make a stop at this area and continued to the next.
Important information about this stop:
- The 1st water refill station.
- Type of water available: Bottled if stores are open. Spring water if closed.
We reached our 2nd stop, Basakan at 1:40 am. The distance was around 500m.
The Main Forest Section begins right after the Basakan E Camp signage.
- Type of water available: Cold spring water only. I tried it... it's safe. I think... hehe!
- Comfort Rooms: 3
Take note that we arrived at Tinikaran 1 Camp at 3:11AM—a full 24 minutes ahead of schedule, despite our late start. It was at this moment that I made an important decision.
I told Arnz that I would no longer join the lead group because I needed enough time to take photos and videos for documentation. If I continued following the group’s pace, we would most likely reach the Boulder Section—or even farther—while it was still dark, which meant missing the opportunity to properly appreciate and document the scenery.
Arnz understood and agreed. Just like that, they continued ahead… while I prepared to confidently experience the rest of the trail at my own pace... Not alone, of course. There were still hikers from other pace groups along the way, so despite separating from my group, the trail never really felt scary and isolated.
Task number one: check the water source—for the sake of this article, of course.
I only brought two 500ml bottles of water because I honestly thought refills would be readily available at Sitio Tumpiz. By the time we reached Tinikaran 1 Camp, my first bottle was already fully consumed, so finding water had officially become a priority.
I was a bit hesitant at first.
Mainly because I wanted to know where exactly the water was coming from… and also because the faucet happened to be just an arm’s reach away from the first comfort room cubicle... which in all honesty, made me want to back out.
But at that point, I really didn’t have much of a choice.
My extra bottle was reserved for my protein powder, and I still needed another one for my electrolyte drink.
So… with full courage—and perhaps a little unnecessary overthinking—I finally decided to try the spring water.
To be honest, I still wasn’t completely sure whether it was freshly flowing spring water or just stored water. But since it was very cold, I convinced myself that it had to be fresh.
And just like that… my first official “trust-the-mountain-water” experience began... which, unfortunately I forgot to document... ironic right? BUT I refilled my extra bottle 4 times. Once during ascent and the rest before going back to base camp.
Next task: Document how dark the forest can be without a flashlight...
Just when I was getting ready to continue the hike to the next campsite, a lady, with 3 other female hikers with her approached me and said, " sabay lang ka sa amo a ha ug ayaw lang kaayo palayo..."
In English: " Just hike along with us, okay? Don’t wander too far."
I said to myself, " how sweet and kind... " I accepted the invitation to join them during the hike since they were next to the Lead Group but I was not really sure about not wandering too far from them occasionally since I had other documentation plans.
So we continued hiking together with other Group 2 Hikers around 3:20AM.
From this point on... it's going to be 95% uphill hike to the peak.
If I remember correctly, there were at least three sections here that required slow and careful climbing—not entirely because they were extremely difficult, but mainly because of one major factor:
Traffic.
Yes… technical one-lane path + slow pace + many hikers = mountain traffic jam.
Since this was one of the narrow portions of the trail, movement naturally slowed down, especially in areas that required scrambling or careful footing. You simply had to wait for the hikers ahead to move before continuing, which, in all fairness, also gave us unexpected opportunities to catch our breath and appreciate the forest surroundings ( with our flashlights ) —even if we technically had no choice but to stop.
Tinikaran Campsite 2 was not actually that far from the first campsite. However, don’t let the short distance fool you.
The terrain between the two areas was technical, hilly, and slow-moving, with several sections requiring careful footing. Add to that the traffic jam carried over from the previous checkpoint, and what should have been a relatively quick stretch ended up taking us around 30–40 minutes to complete.
Then, I heard a familiar voice.
“Sir… Sir… hali na… proceed na ta…” (Come on, let’s continue...)
It was the same lady who had earlier invited me to join their group. To my surprise, she had actually stopped to check where I was and came back to remind me to continue—once again, with them.
THE BOULDER FACE
The start of The Boulder Face was very near Tinikaran Camp 2. I think it only took us less than 15 mins to reach the area.
According to our itinerary, we were supposed to reach the Boulder Area by 6:00 AM for breakfast. Surprisingly, we arrived at the entrance to The Boulder Face at around 4:05 AM—and that’s not even counting the time spent waiting in line for everyone’s “The Boulder Face. Let's do this!” photo sessions.
Technically, I was still well ahead of schedule, despite the fact that I was no longer with the Lead Group.
As mentioned earlier, among the many trails leading to the summit of Mount Apo, only two routes provide access to the famous Boulder Section: The Sta. Cruz Trail and the Kapatagan Trail.
Here’s a side by side photo of the boulder sections of both trails from afar.
Right: Sta. Cruz Trail, Left: Kapatagan Trail
According to fellow hikers, the Sta. Cruz Boulder Section stretches to roughly 4 kilometers, while the Kapatagan Trail’s boulder section is slightly shorter at less than 3 kilometers. But distance aside, Sta. Cruz is widely considered the more challenging route, thanks to its steeper and more technical terrain.
We continued hiking toward the exposed portion of the Boulder Area. I had brought a mask with me, but surprisingly, I never felt the need to use it throughout the hike since I found the sulfur vents fairly tolerable.
Of course, I’m not saying everyone should do the same, because tolerance varies from person to person. But personally, the sulfur smell was nowhere near as strong as what I experienced in Ōwakudani, Japan, where the scent of sulfur was strong enough to instantly remind you to find anything to cover your nose.
The Boulder Face Section stood out as one of the most exciting parts of the hike. Sure, it had a reputation for being physically demanding and technically challenging—but that was exactly what made it fun. As if that wasn’t enough, it also threw in a few unique surprises along the way, take these three, for example:
First—and probably the most important—it served as the main viewing area for the Mt. Apo sunrise. During the orientation, hikers were informed that the Day Hike itinerary was intentionally designed to maximize the Boulder Section as the ideal sunrise viewing point.
Catching the sunrise at the summit itself is possible, but that would require reaching the peak in less than five hours, something that would demand all hikers to maintain a much faster pace all the way at the same time.
Second, if I’m not mistaken, this was the only part of the trail where I encountered a fruit-bearing tree. I’m not even entirely sure if tree is the correct term, but wild berries seemed abundant from this section all the way to areas near the summit.
Third, the Boulder Area is home to the highly intelligent Philippine long-tailed macaque—more commonly known as the crab-eating monkey.
By this point, the sky had slowly started to brighten and glow, quietly announcing that the sun was about to rise. We all paused for a moment to appreciate the beauty of God’s creation.
.jpg)
One of the girls in the group asked the lady who invited me to join them if they could finally eat breakfast. The lady agreed, opened her bag, and started handing out packed meals to everyone.
That was when I realized she was not just another hiker—she was actually their guide, and her name was Miss Tessa.
She looked at me in confusion and asked why I wasn’t taking out my breakfast.
I explained that my breakfast was with our porter, who happened to be with the last pace group together with the two girls from my group. I told her not to worry since I still had other food in my bag, and it wasn’t yet time for me to eat them anyway.
I’m quite particular with what I eat during physically demanding activities. I usually prepare my carbo-loading strategy the same way I do when preparing for race events such as triathlons or long-distance running.
But just when everyone was about to open their breakfast packs… The monkeys arrived.
One by one, they started appearing until, somehow, they eventually outnumbered us in that specific area.
Miss Tessa immediately instructed everyone to slowly cover their food and place it back inside their bags. She reminded the group about the orientation guidelines regarding the monkeys: don’t smile or show your teeth, don’t stare directly at them, stay quiet, and avoid actions that might trigger aggression.
And just like that… Breakfast was officially interrupted.
In all fairness, the Mt. Apo monkeys were noticeably less aggressive compared to the famous snow monkeys of Jigokudani Monkey Park in Jigokudani Valley, Nagano, Japan.
Based on my experience, the monkeys in Nagano, Japan can be surprisingly bold—especially when they spot plastic bags, which they seem to associate with food.
The last time I was there, I actually witnessed one monkey suddenly approach a girl from behind because she was confidently walking around carrying a white plastic bag full of snacks. Poor girl looked genuinely shocked when she realized she had a furry follower.
We searched for another spot, and while scrambling over the boulders,—my extra 500ml water bottle suddenly fell out of the side pocket of my bag.
My water supply dropped to around 320ml, and I was still nowhere near the summit. Worse, the next available refill station would only be back at Tinikaran Camp 1. Fortunately, I’m already used to long-distance running without needing to hydrate frequently, so the situation, while not ideal, did not worry me too much at that point.
It’s important to remember that anything you drop in the boulder section—especially in between those massive rocks—will be as good as gone. Retrieval won’t just be difficult; it’ll be practically impossible. So, if ever you decide to pull out your gadget, for a selfie... extra caution is non-negotiable… unless, of course, you happen to have earth-bending skills and can casually lift gigantic boulders without breaking a sweat.
Once we finally found another breakfast spot, the girls reopened their meals. Miss Tessa, clearly concerned, offered me an extra breakfast pack she had in her bag. It was a box with tocino, egg and rice.
I politely told her to save it in case someone else might need it more and assured her that I had enough food inside my bag to survive for at least two weeks.
But seriously, I don’t take nutrition for granted—especially during events that require endurance and strength. I use the same approach when it comes to carb loading and other essential nutrients needed to help prepare my body for the physical demands ahead, starting a week before the event.
While everyone else enjoyed breakfast, I returned to my main assignment—something that needed to be prioritized for that phase of the trail:
Documentation mode—taking photos and videos while slowly making our way toward the summit of Mount Apo.
Check out the hiker on the lower right portion of the photo. He—and many others like him—are the real heroes of the trail: the trek porters, often referred to by hikers as the mountain’s sherpas.
While most hikers focus on reaching the summit carrying only their personal essentials, these individuals carry the heavier burden—food supplies, camping gear, cooking equipment, water, and sometimes even extra bags of hikers—all while moving through the same steep, technical, and unforgiving terrain.
More importantly, many of them do this multiple times a week, often under difficult weather conditions, carrying loads that can easily weigh far more than what an average hiker would ever consider manageable.
And here’s the part that truly amazed me: Imagine climbing Mt. Apo wearing nothing but a pair of thin slippers.
While many invest in expensive trekking shoes for grip, ankle support, and comfort, some of these porters confidently navigate muddy slopes, rocky terrain, river crossings, and steep ascents in simple slippers—as if laws of physics somehow made an exception for them.
In many ways, they are not just guides of supplies—they are silent pillars of the mountain experience, helping make summit attempts safer, lighter, and possible for many hikers.
When I returned to the breakfast spot, the girls were no longer focused on breakfast alone. They had already shifted into photo session mode, taking turns posing while their personal photographer for the morning—none other than Miss Tessa—patiently took their pictures.
Of course, I eventually joined in too, and Miss Tessa, being the kind and generous guide that she was, gladly offered to take my photos and videos as well.
After completing the Boulder Section of the Sta. Cruz Trail, we finally made it to the
White Sand Section of Mt. Apo.
Another section of the trail is also known for being highly technical and challenging. It involves a rock surface (with soil, roots and more) that hikers must scramble up, sometimes pulling themselves with ropes or carefully using trekking poles for support, before reaching Mt. Apo’s Crater Lake. The “87-degree” label is likely more of an exaggeration used to emphasize just how demanding this section really is.
For day hikers, Ms. Tessa advised us to start with the Mother Peak first, then make our way to Digos Peak before heading back to the Crater Lake. The main reason was simple: the ascent to Mother Peak was actually highly technical, so descending the same route would be even more difficult and risky.
While people were busy waiting for their turn to take photos at the Mother Peak, she told us to wait a few feet away in a spot that was just as ideal for selfies.
All this time, Ms. Tessa volunteered to take our photos—handling four phones in total like a seasoned pro. We even asked her to join us for a group photo, which she kindly agreed to.
Like Arnz, Tessa is an accredited Mt. Apo guide, covering specifically the Sta. Cruz, Digos, and Bansalan trails. Unlike Arnz, however, she doesn’t run her own tour group. Instead, she works as a freelance guide, able to affiliate with or assist any group that requires her expertise and support along the trail.
It took me a while to realize that her invitation for me to join them was actually coordinated with Arnz, especially after I chose not to stay with the lead pack so I could maximize my time taking photos and videos—particularly during the descent, when the day was bright and clear already.
If you’re planning to visit Mt. Apo soon, I strongly recommend getting a local guide like Arnz and Tessa. They don’t just know the trail—they also have strong coordination and communication with other guide groups from Kapatagan and nearby areas.
In fact, if I’m not mistaken, around three to four organizing groups worked together during our schedule to keep track of all hikers under their supervision.
Tessa, in particular, knows the Sta. Cruz Trail extremely well. She provides valuable insights along the way and can clearly identify which sections are more manageable and which ones are highly technical. Beyond that, she is a very responsible guide—offering assistance not only to her own clients but even to other hikers on the trail. She even carries extra headlamps that she lets others borrow for free and takes the time to advise hikers on what the best course of action is in specific sections.
If you would like to avail of her services, you may contact Tessa at 09128474925. She doesn’t have any social media accounts, so direct contact is the best way to reach her.
THE DESCENT
We started our way back to the White Sand Section at around 8:40 a.m. As we retraced our steps through the same 87-Degree trail, I overheard Ms. Tessa casually guiding other hikers on which way to go. Having already heard those familiar instructions, I knew I had to take the opportunity—so I recorded a video using her group as my “subjects,” while I pretended to be the guide for a moment… lol!
“In case you’re wondering why we’re using this route on the way down, while we took the opposite side earlier on the ascent—here at the 87-Degree Trail, this path is the easier option. The other side is far more technical, which is why we only used it going up. So let’s continue…”
Ms. Tessa advised us to have lunch in advance first somewhere in the White Sand area before heading down. She emphasized that we should start making our way back to the section between the covered area and the exposed part of the Boulder Face by 11 a.m., since rain in Mt. Apo was almost always expected around that time.
Just before we reached the base of the 87-Degree Trail, my group's porter, Lance, suddenly appeared out of nowhere along with the two girls who had joined the last group of hikers. Lance looked visibly worried because he hadn’t been able to hand over my breakfast and lunch packs after going back to look for the two female members of the group.
Ms. Tessa, relieved to see him, immediately instructed him to give me my packed meals. Lance opened his oversized bag and pulled out several boxes of food. I told him to forget about preparing the rest of my meals since I wouldn’t be needing them. Instead, I just asked for two pieces of sausages and told him to continue hiking ahead so they could finish before nightfall.
While Ms. Tessa's group were busy eating, I obviously took the chance to explore nearby areas—my version of “nearby” being the White Sand signage at the Kapatagan trail side, which, to be fair, wasn’t really that far.
When I returned to where the group was gathered, I noticed that the fog had already started to thicken. After Ms. Tessa finished coordinating with the other guides over their radios and wrapping up a few important tasks, she finally gave the signal to begin the descent.
We started making our way back to the entrance of the Boulder Face Section at around 9:55 a.m. By then, the fog was no longer subtle—it was making a full-on statement.
Visibility had dropped to almost zero when Miss Tessa suddenly noticed that several hikers were making their way down the Boulder Section alone.
Being familiar with the unpredictable terrain of the Sta. Cruz Boulder Section, she immediately knew she had to help guide them to a safer route—even if they were not part of her group.
At that point, visibility was so poor that the hikers could do little more than follow the direction of Miss Tessa’s voice, carefully moving toward where they could hear her calling from.
And then…
a perfect scene suddenly formed in my head.
You see, my hiking bag is not exactly a regular hiker’s bag.
If you’ve read my previous articles, you already know that there are certain items I consider non-negotiable essentials, depending on the activity. For this hike, apparently, I had unknowingly packed what felt like an “Emergency Kit for Zero Visibility Situations.”
I wanted to take out my proper Emergency Light Beacon, but it was buried somewhere deep inside my bag and honestly… too much effort to retrieve at that moment. Lol!
So instead, I pulled out this Shopee find that cost me only ₱18.
And in all fairness…
for ₱18, it performed surprisingly well.
Suddenly, the whole scene felt cinematic—fog everywhere, hikers slowly navigating through near-zero visibility, with my guiding voice and the shopee item acting like a lighthouse in the middle of the mountain... chariz!
And then, at around 11:15 AM, the weather suddenly shifted.
Heavy rain poured without warning.
Fortunately, by that time, we had already crossed the exposed portion of the Boulder Face and had started making our way down toward Tinapakan Camp 2.
Had the rain arrived earlier while we were still navigating the open boulders, the descent could have become significantly more challenging—and a lot more dangerous—since wet rocks in the Boulder Section can quickly turn into slippery obstacles.
Of course, I had two disposable raincoats inside my bag.
At this point, you can probably think of me as the hiking version of a Girl Scout... girl scout?! —always prepared.
Well… almost always prepared.
Because while I can confidently prepare for unexpected rain, fog, zero visibility, hydration issues, emergency lights, protein powder, and electrolyte drinks…
I’m still not fully at the level of carrying, setting up, sleeping in, and packing up a tent afterwards.
The following photos feature the stretch of trail from The Boulder Face signage to the exit leading to the exposed boulder section.
Interestingly, this was exactly the same route we used during our ascent—the only major difference was that, earlier in the day, everything was covered in darkness.
Seeing the area again during the descent felt like finally getting a proper introduction to a place I had technically already passed through but barely had the chance to appreciate because visibility was almost nonexistent before sunrise.
We finally made our way back to the The Boulder Face Signage, where Miss Tessa reminded us to continue directly toward Tinikaran Camp 1.
At that point, I honestly wanted to get back to T-Camp 1 as quickly as possible because I had already run out of water for my electrolyte solution.
But…
there was still one more area I really wanted to see.
So, naturally, I slowed down a bit to allow myself some much-needed “me time” for documentation priorities.
After a short hike from The Boulder Face Signage, I finally found what I had been hoping to see:
the Mossy Forest Section of the Sta. Cruz Trail.
Despite the heavy rain pouring nonstop, the place still felt magical—covered in thick vegetation, mist, and that distinct forest atmosphere that almost makes you feel like you’ve stepped into another world.
Unfortunately, I only managed to take two photos, as the rain had become so heavy that operating my phone properly was already a struggle.
I could hear Miss Tessa calling my name from afar, so I adjusted my pace and caught up with the group until we finally reached Tinipakan Camp 1.
Upon arrival, Miss Tessa instructed us to proceed to the bunk house to regroup with the other hikers. I briefly borrowed her umbrella because, at that point, my top priority was finally refilling my water bottle.
The rain was pouring so heavily that some tents looked like they were on the verge of being completely drenched.
I remember quietly telling myself while passing by them:
“Ok… I’m still not ready for this level of hiking.”
Unless, of course, imaginary Jungkook suddenly became real and showed up to prepare everything for me. Lol!
When I finally returned to where I clearly remembered the faucet being earlier—just a few feet away from the comfort room—it was suddenly nowhere to be found.
For a moment, I honestly thought I had remembered the wrong place or maybe there were other restroom cubicles nearby.
Good thing a guy happened to be on his way to fetch water for cooking.
Apparently, someone had transferred the faucet to another spot farther from the CR.
Maybe the mountain somehow overheard my earlier internal concerns about the faucet being too close to the restroom.
After finally refilling my bottle and taking my supplements, we resumed our descent back toward
Sitio Colan.
By this time, the trails had transformed dramatically.
Areas that were merely dry or slightly muddy during the ascent had now turned into what felt like mini streams mixed with dough-like clay pathways thanks to the heavy rain.
Good thing I decided to bring my trekking boots, because they kept my feet dry, supported my ankles, and made navigating the challenging terrain of the Sta. Cruz Trail much easier.
We eventually arrived at Sitio Tumpiz at around 1:55 PM, where Miss Tessa quickly got busy catching up with her farmer friends.
I told her we’d wait at the nearby “sari-sari store” because I had one important mission:
a cold bottle of Pocari Sweat.
While waiting, I chatted with another hiker and some locals. Some of them were actually “habal-habal” drivers.
Apparently, hikers also have the option to skip the long hike back to Sitio Colan and the jump-off area.
For around ₱300, a habal-habal driver can take you directly to the parking lot in less than 20 minutes.
Around 30 minutes later, Miss Tessa finally arrived—this time carrying an extra bag filled with freshly harvested vegetables generously given to her by her friends.
We continued walking until we finally reached Sitio Colan before 3:00 PM.
Miss Tessa informed me that Arnz was still at the parking area waiting for the remaining hikers and asked if I wanted to head back to Kapatagan first. The guy from Cebu had already gone ahead earlier.
At that point, I decided to make my way back to the jump-off area by myself.
Along the trail, I crossed paths with new batches of hikers making their way toward Sitio Colan, ready to meet Miss Tessa or other guides for the next day’s hike.
Eventually, Arnz drove me back to the inn, where I quickly freshened up before heading back to Digos for what was supposed to be my second mountain adventure:
a trip from Digos to Sultan Kudarat to explore Bong Bato Peak.
Or… did I actually push through with the plan?
That’s a story for another day.
.png)
