Mount Manunggal: Why Getting Lost Is Never A Waste Of Time

There’s a fine line between adventure and disaster. Lost in the middle of nowhere after our Mount Manunggal climb, I was walking that razor-thin line with a heavy backpack and two other hikers.

There was a time in my life when being lost felt deeply uncomfortable, like I was completely out of my element.

Yet, here on this hike with my new friends, I feel oddly at home.

Instead of panicking, I felt calm. 

I looked at my companions, and I saw panic written all over their faces.

And who wouldn’t be?

With the sun beating down on us, our water bottles were running low, and unmarked trails, it had the recipe for disaster. 

Plus, I wasn’t familiar with the trails on this hidden section of Cebu.

In fact, I hadn’t done any real trailblazing in years.

But for some reason, I was confident we’d find our way back.

I’d been in situations like this so many times before. 

And even though the odds were stacked against us, I still knew the quiet little secrets to getting through it.

So what made this adventure so unique and unforgettable?

Why was it so enriching when it just took place in my own hometown?

And why did something as simple as getting lost feel so enriching, especially when it happened right in my own hometown?

Mount Manunggal: The Mountain I Somehow Missed

I’ve hiked around 47 mountains in Cebu.

I’ve climbed the tallest peaks in the Philippines.

And I’ve chased views, explored secret villages, grand mosques, and summits from Luzon to Mindanao.

Yet, somehow, Mount Manunggal, the mountain, sitting in my own backyard, never made it on my list.

And I still can’t explain why.

Maybe it’s easy to overlook what’s right in front of you.

Or perhaps when you’re always looking for the next big adventure, you forget the ones closest to home.

Then, one day, Iris, a fellow hiker I met on my Musuan Peak adventure, invited me to a Mt Manunggal hike organized by FOM Family PH. 

Ironically, it’s a group led by one of the joiners on our hike for a cause in Mount Manayon in Naga, Cebu.

That was about six years ago.

Those were the days when I was so active in the hiking scene in Cebu.

Back then, my energy felt infinite, and my hunger for new trails never seemed to fade.

I was part of a group that lived for weekend climbs and offbeat discoveries.

We weren’t just hikers.

We were organizers and trailblazers.

We mapped out new paths and used our adventures to raise funds for public schools in need.

But I’m not the same person anymore.

These days, I move more slowly.

I’ve grown older, and with that comes a different kind of strength.

It’s not the kind of strength that conquers peaks, but the kind and courage that knows when to pause.

I no longer feel the need to lead every hike or chase every summit.

I feel like it’s time to pass the torch to the younger generation.

Let them explore, let them lead, and let them find their own way,  just like I once did.

And I also felt like it was time for me to fade quietly into the background.

I want to stay hidden, like the old trails I used to love.

I want to be those trails that were unseen, but still part of the map.

Day 1: Ayala V-Hire Terminal

Eric wasn’t expecting me to join his Mt Manunggal camping trip that day.

Although Iris informed him I was joining, we tricked him into thinking that I had an injury.

And when my niece and I arrived, he was surprised.

He thought I still belonged to a hiking group in Cebu.

And he thought I wasn’t into local adventures like this.

But the thing is, adventure, no matter where it happens, is still an adventure to me.

Yes, lately I’ve been more into major climbs and exploring iconic landmarks across the Philippines.

But that doesn’t mean I no longer enjoy local hikes or exploring my hometown’s wonders.

I just want to reward and take care of myself, and see everything I want to see before my time runs out

Because as I always say: life waits for no one.

And besides, I’ve already been to almost all the established mountains in Cebu.

Except for one giant: Mount Manunggal.

Day 1: The hike to Mount Mauyog

After a short V-Hire ride from Ayala Terminal, we arrived at the junction leading to Mount Manunggal.

We had a quick lunch, stocked up on supplies, and got ready for the overnight Mount Manunggal camping trip.

Many habal-habal drivers were offering a ride to the jump-off point of Mount Mauyog. 

We, however, opted for the old-school way, which is to take a hike under the sun.

On our way to Mount Mauyog, I noticed how the members of the team were amazed by the emerald landscapes and flora of the area.

It gave me flashbacks and memories of wide-eyed newbies from our organized hikes years ago.

Later, I caught up with Eric, and we talked about how much the outdoor scene in Cebu had changed.

Trail runs are the trend now. 

Fast. 

Light. 

Mileage-and-destination-focused.

And that’s okay.

Everyone has their own preferences when it comes to exploring the outdoors.

We also talked about why fewer people today are discovering new and far-away trails like we once did.

I’ve always believed that a person’s sense of direction can be developed, trained, and refined.

But then he said something that stuck with me: not everyone has it.

Maybe he was right.

Some people really do have that gift.

Some were born with the inner compass, the hunger to explore, and the patience to find a path where there isn’t one.

And it hit me.

I hadn’t been using that gift in a long time.

You see.

Before I was chasing towering peaks across the archipelago, I was trailblazing right here in Cebu.

I didn’t have guides or apps. 

I just had instincts, mental notes, Google Maps, and a stubborn desire to explore.

I got lost a lot. 

I got bruised, sunburned, rained on, and scraped up.

But I found something beautiful in the process: joy, purpose and clarity.

Somewhere along the way, though, I traded that beautiful chaos for checklists, structure, milestones, and planned-out itineraries.

I guess this hike to Mount Manunggal, Balamban would rekindle that passion to explore new paths.

Day 1: Climbing Mount Mauyog

Mount Mauyog humbled me.

Years ago, I conquered this peak with relative ease, even though I took the longer and more challenging trail from Tabunan, Cebu.

But this time?

I was huffing and puffing.

I even had quick and mild cramps in my left ankle, which was badly injured a year ago on my Mount Kalatungan climb.

And for a moment, I felt doubt creeping in.

Just hours earlier, I was seriously considering getting back into trailblazing.

And this climb made me question that.

I wasn’t the same prolific hiker with strong legs and excellent cardio.

I wasn’t the guy who used to scale mountains every weekend like it was nothing.

And that realization stung a bit.

But then, I remembered something.

I’ve always been a slow starter in hiking.

It takes me about three to four hours to warm up and let my body adjust and catch its rhythm.

Once I get past that wall, something shifts.

Muscle memory kicks in, energy builds, and I find myself climbing stronger with every step.

I guess I’d find that out later.

Day 1: The Mount Mauyog to Mt Manunggal hike

Part of me wished we had taken a habal-habal ride to Mount Manunggal, Cebu, from Mount Mauyog.

But there was also part of me saying I needed this.

And it turns out, it was exactly what I needed.

Paved, steep concrete roads are every hiker’s nightmare, especially with a 15-kilogram backpack strapped to your shoulders.

But they’re also excellent for cardio, endurance, and building the kind of stubborn strength that only mountain roads can teach.

Somewhere along the way, my inner hiker woke up.

I found my rhythm again.

And suddenly, the backpack didn’t feel heavy anymore.

Honestly, I could’ve walked faster.

I could’ve reached the campsite ahead of everyone else.

But my niece needed breaks to rest, breathe, and catch up.

Like me, she was carrying a heavy load.

So we slowed our pace, took baby steps, and let ourselves enjoy that lazy, golden afternoon in the highlands of Cebu.

So far, this Mount Manunggal hike hasn’t been grand or life-changing.

But it reminded me of life’s real luxuries:

Time.

A quiet mind.

Health.

Ability to travel.

And slow walks.

Day 1: Mount Manunggal campsite 

We arrived at the jump-off point to the Mount Manunggal campsite just in time.

With the golden sun dipping behind the mountains of Negros Island, it felt like a picture-perfect ending to a long, rewarding day.

Now, there are two campgrounds available in the area.

One is the more convenient campsite inside Baguio de Cebu Eco-Adventure at Mt. Manunggal.

The other is the free and old-school version, which is near the Mt Manunggal crash site.

Of course, we took the less-flashy version. 

The air was crisp by the time we reached the campsite.

There was a gentle chill in the wind, which made our shoulders relax and our thoughts slow down.

We set up our tents and prepared dinner as night fell over Mount Manunggal.

Our meals were simple and no-frills.

Yet, for some reason, everything tastes good when you’re up in the mountains.

Later, we gathered around and shared insights about different things.

It was a simple night.

No loud music. 

No party vibes.

It was just stories, jokes, warm meals, and the beauty of shared experience.

Then, out of nowhere, Eric said something I wasn’t expecting.

He mentioned that I was one of his mentors in hiking.

I paused, unsure how to respond.

Then, I thanked him and said how proud I was to see him lead a new group. 

I was proud to see him share the real lessons and values of hiking mountains.

And this statement hit me harder than I thought it would.

Because I had never really seen myself that way.

I was always the explorer, the seeker, and the guy trying to figure things out.

And I always see myself as a student who’s on a mission to discover the beauty and mysteries of our universe.

Sure, I write blogs. 

I know people read them.

But to me, blogging has always been personal.

It’s my therapy, my art form, my space to practice writing and reflect on life.

I never did it for attention or the spotlight.

If I were chasing likes, followers, or brand deals, I would have quit a long time ago.

Or I’d be out there making reels, vlogs, and TikToks.

But those things were never part of my agenda.

I just wanted to write and to live fully and document it quietly.

I want to inspire people, not with noise, but with honesty.

I wanted to stay in the background, to be silent, and remain a secret.

But here was Eric and his group reminding me that even in silence, your presence can still echo.

That statement reminded me of who I was, and maybe who I still am.

I wasn’t just a hiker or a wanderer.

This quiet reminder stayed with me.

And it saw this reminder not as a compliment, but as a call.

Day 2: Climbing the picture-perfect Mount Manunggal monolith

Our day began with a light snack and a bit of prep for our morning adventure to the gorgeous Mount Manunggal monolith.

Led by a local guide, we made our way toward the rocky slopes with anticipation.

At first, the hike was fairly easy, with a relatively flat trail.

But it didn’t take long for things to change.

Soon, we were scrambling up sharp inclines, using our hands to climb our way to the top.

The rocks weren’t jagged, but they demanded attention.

One wrong step could lead to bruises, scrapes, or worse injuries.

And when we finally reached the summit?

It was divine.

Stunning.

Heavenly.

Out-of-this-world beautiful.

Sunlight broke through the fog and clouds like a spotlight, illuminating the emerald landscapes of Balamban.

It felt like nature was applauding our effort.

We took our time up there, soaking it all in, taking photos, and just living in the moment.

Later on, Eric gave us a quick Mt Manunggal history lesson.

Our guide also shared information on where the name was derived.

And that’s one thing I love about traveling and hiking.

Some people see it as an escape or a break from the real, messy world.

But for me, it’s always been about learning, discovering, and growing.

The truth is, not all lessons are taught inside a four-walled classroom.

Some of the best ones live in places like this. 

Trust me, there’s a lot you can learn out in the open, tucked away in the ridges and trees of remote mountains.

Eventually, we descended from the monolith and returned to our campsite.

We then had a feast, which involved freshly plucked coconuts and steaming tinolang manok.

It was the kind of meal that doesn’t just feed your body, but it also feeds your soul.

Day 2: Lost in the middle of nowhere 

In hiking, the sweeper, or the last person in the pack, plays a rather important role.

The sweeper provides support to slower hikers and makes sure everyone is accounted for.

The sweeper also ensures the group doesn’t split up.

When I was organizing hikes years ago, I rarely had the role of a sweeper.

I was always the lead or was in the lead pack because I was stronger and faster.

But these days, I enjoy being the sweeper.

There’s something grounding and peaceful about it.

You’re not rushing.

You’re observing.

And you’re watching how the hike unfolds, and how others grow because of it.

Some might see it as stepping back.

I see it as staying present and an opportunity to learn.

And perhaps that’s what this whole Mount Manunggal hike was really about.

It was not about reclaiming the lead.

And not about proving that I still have it.

But about remembering that leadership doesn’t always mean being in front.

Unfortunately, things don’t always go according to plan.

Somewhere along the way, we got separated from the lead pack.

And I took full responsibility for this because I didn’t time our rest correctly.

Soon, we got lost in the middle of nowhere.

No houses.

No locals.

No trail signs from our group.

It was sunlight, uncertainty, and the echoes of banging disco beats from the other mountain.

My two companions were getting anxious.

And I don’t blame them.

The worst part is, I wasn’t familiar with the trails in the area.

And I even forgot the name of the waterfall included in our Mount Manunggal itinerary.

There was no mobile signal either, meaning I couldn’t find trails on Google Maps.

But I stayed calm.

I didn’t panic.

I just opened Google Maps, even if it barely worked, and began to think.

I dug deep into my memory, retracing the route I took from Tabunan seven years ago.

Then, I figured it all out.

I discovered the name of the waterfall we were about to go to: Gining Falls

That was the spark. 

The first domino.

From there, the other dominoes began to fall into place.

A few moments later, I got a signal.

And it was just enough to load the trail and save it offline.

We kept on hiking until we were at a crossing again.

One was an established trail that led directly to the river and waterfall.

The other was not-so-established, but led to a house.

I took the second option, and we were pleasantly accommodated by a kind local family who gave us drinking water and camote.

They also gave us tips on how to get to the waterfall.

We resumed our hike, and kept walking until we caught up with the group.

Eric was surprised.

He thought we had given up and headed back to the base to take a ride home.

I told him it was just like the good old days.

Because it was.

Getting lost. 

Trusting my instincts.

Leading quietly from behind.

This wasn’t just a Mount Manunggal hike.

It was a homecoming.

It brought me back to my roots and reminded me of what I should never stop doing.

Day 3: The hike to Tabunan

Getting to Tabunan was a breeze.

The sun was still scorching hot, but at least it gave me valuable lessons.

Here’s the thing.

Mount Manunggal wasn’t the hardest mountain I’ve climbed.

But it gave me something far more unexpected: perspective.

It didn’t point me to the next big thing.

It secretly reminded me of the paths I’ve already walked.

It gave me flashbacks of the trails that shaped me long before the major climbs and milestones.

It didn’t challenge my strength.

It questioned my purpose.

Some mountains push you forward.

Mount Manunggal asked me to pause, and to look around and look within.

And I realized, perhaps it’s not about chasing what’s ahead.

Maybe it’s about appreciating what you’ve built, who you’ve lifted, and the fire you once sparked in others.

Because sometimes, the most meaningful adventures aren’t the ones that take you farther.

They’re the ones that bring everything full circle.

How high is Mount Manunggal?

Mount Manunggal stands at 982 meters (3,222 feet) above sea level. It’s one of the highest peaks on the island of Cebu. 

Where is Mount Manunggal located?

Mount Manunggal is located in Barangay Magsaysay, within the municipality of Balamban in Cebu province, Philippines. It’s approximately 22 miles (35 kilometers) northwest of Cebu City.

How do I go to Manunggal?

From Ayala V-Hire Terminal, take a v-hire ride to Balamban. The fare is about PHP 150 to 175. Ask the driver to drop you off at eskina Manunggal. There, take a habal-habal ride to Mount Manunggal. The fare is around PHP 150 per person. If you want to hike the monolith, the staff at Baguio de Cebu Eco-Adventure will help you find one. There are also guides available at the old campsite of Mount Manunggal.