Mt. Kabunian: The Sacred Mountain That Secretly Changed My Perspective

I sold my soul to the Devil. In exchange for a small fortune and a taste of worldly happiness, I lost bits and pieces of myself. I didn’t even realize I’d made a deal with him until I noticed I no longer had time for the things I once loved. Then, one day, came Mt. Kabunian.

Here’s the thing about mountains. 

They’re not just giants. 

Some are called gods or deities who will exorcise your demons and unveil the hard truths you never wanted to hear.

And Mt. Kabunian, named after the sky god in Igorot culture, was the mountain that finally made me see how far I’d lost my way.

So, how did it come to this?

How did a place as ancient as Mt. Kabunian become the mirror I’d been avoiding all along?

My Mt. Kabunian adventure 

Sleep is a luxury for most adults living in these chaotic times.

In our fast-paced world of hustle culture, we’ve traded rest and peace for productivity and profits.

And with ever-changing technology flooding us with distractions and endless entertainment, we’ve grown even more restless.

These were the words running through my head on our ride from Manila to Benguet.

I should be resting this weekend.

After weeks of sleepless nights and non-stop work, I should have spent it sleeping and watching Netflix.

But Mt. Kabunian kept calling my name.

With its dramatic landscapes and heavenly views, I couldn’t resist the urge to climb this mountain hidden in the middle of Benguet.

05:40 AM: Arrival in Bakun, Benguet 

After several hours of sharp turns and endless twists, we finally reached the jump-off point for our Mt. Kabunian day hike.

Even though I’d barely slept in the last 48 hours, I felt surprisingly okay.

I wasn’t exactly at a hundred percent, and definitely not in tip-top condition, but I knew my muscle memory and experience would carry me through this climb.

Was I overconfident on our Mt. Kabunian hike? 

I guess so. 

My niece, my friend, and I wandered around the tiny village, looking for breakfast and bottled water.

There weren’t many options in this part of Benguet, so we settled for the best we could find: hard-boiled eggs and cup noodles.

It was nothing to worry about.

After years of traveling and climbing mountains, I’ve grown used to uncomfortable situations and making do with whatever’s available.

Soon, we joined the rest of the team and other groups in the community area to listen to the orientation for our hike up Mt. Kabunian.

Is Mt. Kabunian a major hike?

That was the question I kept asking online in the days leading up to this adventure.

The results were a mixed bag. 

Some said it was a minor climb, while others insisted it was a major day hike.

Hopefully, we’d get a clear answer during the orientation.

As we gathered inside the community area, a village leader stood in front of us and began explaining the dos and don’ts of climbing Mt. Kabunian.

Then, finally, he answered the question everyone had been wondering about.

Mt. Kabunian, he explained, isn’t as tall as some of the other towering mountains in the Philippines, like Mount Pulag and Mount Apo.

It rises to an elevation of 1,789 meters above sea level and has an out-and-back trail stretching about 10 kilometers.

That should be classified as a minor hike, right?

Well, not exactly.

With countless stairs and an elevation gain of over 1,030 meters, Mt. Kabunian can whip your ass.

So, in turn, he said Mt. Kabunian is a semi-major hike.

I guess that’s the safe answer to that question.

Either way, whether it’s a minor hike or a major climb, we should always prepare ourselves mentally and physically for any mountain.

Never underestimate a mountain. I always say that.

And that was a lesson learned the hard way, not just by me, but by many of the other joiners on this hike.

Around 06:20 AM: The start of our Mount Kabunian day hike

Our hike started easily.

Along the way, we snapped photos of the gorgeous, Avatar-like mountains of Bakun in the background.

It was a thing of beauty.

I’ve seen many mountains across the Philippines, and this one was definitely among the prettiest.

We had only been hiking a few minutes, and I was already blown away by the scenery.

Everything seemed to be going perfectly fine.

The weather was nice, and the trail looked easy.

But even early on, I knew the hike back to the jump-off point would be a pain in the ass.

With all those stairs, returning after summiting Mt. Kabunian was going to be pretty challenging.

And I’m no stranger to hiking mountains with seemingly endless staircases.

I’ve climbed Mount Amuyao via Barlig, and hiked the famous trail of Mount Kitanglad.

Even with this looming challenge, I was confident I’d conquer it with ease.

Around 02:00 PM: Minutes away from completing the day hike 

I was wrong.

With years of experience hiking mountains, I thought the stair section back to the jump-off point would be easy.

But it wasn’t.

It was probably the hardest part of our Mt. Kabunian hike.

Yes, there were slippery sections and steep slopes on the way to the top.

But this part was tougher, especially since most of your energy is already spent reaching the summit.

And did I mention the concrete stairs?

Along the way, we bumped into a young lady who was about to give up before reaching the base.

She said she didn’t want to move anymore and wished she had prepared better.

While the other joiners helped her stand up, I silently wished I had prepared more too.

After so many sleepless nights and weird crash diets, I felt dehydrated hours before the hike even started.

But I was here, and I only needed to climb a few more steps to finish.

The gods, after stripping me of all modern-day comforts, left me with persistence, mental strength, and patience.

I just had to give it one last push and rediscover the lessons they were trying to teach me.

06:30 AM: Crossing bridges and hiking flat pathways 

So far, the hike wasn’t tough, which was exactly how I liked to start any climb.

I’m a slow starter when it comes to hiking, and sometimes it takes hours to find my rhythm.

Slowly, I was getting into it, even though I hadn’t been on a major hike for over a year.

We crossed hair-raising hanging bridges and tackled mild ascents.

Still, at this point, the hike wasn’t as hard as I expected.

Then, suddenly, the real Mt. Kabunian assault began.

The slopes grew steeper, and the trail turned rocky and slippery.

Along the way, I noticed something different about my niece.

She stopped, sat down right away, and looked worryingly pale.

Sh*t.

She was exhausted, overwhelmed, and about to give up on Mt. Kabunian.

This wasn’t a good sign.

The girl who almost gave up on Mt. Kabunian 

Weeks before our Mt. Kabunian hike, I kept reminding my niece to prepare and do some light cardio.

But like most young people these days, she didn’t listen. 

She spent most of her time watching TikTok videos.

That’s why she struggled early on our way to the top.

We took longer breaks and helped her rehydrate.

I even had to carry her backpack so she could recover slowly during the hike.

Even with all these setbacks, giving up wasn’t an option.

I never gave her that option.

Was it a bad idea or a reckless decision on my part?

Some might say it was reckless.

But no one knows her physical capabilities and limits better than I do.

She comes from a clan of athletes, with excellent genetics.

Sometimes, she, and most of the younger generation, just need a little push and a real challenge.

In all my years of dealing with so many personalities, I’ve learned that you have to be hard on people to help them unlock their potential.

If you want to see them survive and thrive in this world, you can’t treat them like a baby.

You have to be the asshole who pushes them to their limits and tells them the hard truths.

That’s one of the most important things I’ve learned while climbing mountains in the Philippines.

The mountains, or the gods, are unforgiving.

They won’t give you an easy route, and they will challenge you physically and mentally.

They don’t sugarcoat anything.

But if you listen to their whispers and silent lessons, you’ll become a stronger and better version of yourself.

And that’s why I always bring my niece and keep pushing her on our hikes.

It’s my gift to the next generation in our clan.

And one day, when my time is up or I’m no longer capable of hiking mountains, my niece will pass down this lesson to my kids and the next generation.

07:12 AM: The views we often overlook 

My niece was slowly recovering.

She began to smile and walked at a faster pace.

On the zig-zagging section of Mt. Kabunian, we took pauses and admired the stunning views.

We walked a bit slower on this part of the hike.

We made sure to soak in the emerald landscapes surrounding Mt. Kabunian.

I also spent some time admiring the gorgeous waterfall cascading down the other mountain.

And then, something hit me.

Lately, I’ve been so busy chasing personal milestones that I forgot to slow down and appreciate the things around me.

How many birthdays, graduations, and other important events have I missed because of my pursuit of success?

How many strained relationships and friendships have I created because of my dedication to becoming successful?

I wondered how many moments I had traded for promotions, recognition, and short-lived celebrations.

How many ordinary days could have been extraordinary if I had been fully present instead of glued to my phone or consumed by deadlines?

Maybe that’s what the gods of these mountains have been trying to tell me all along.

You can collect all the accolades in the world, but they’ll never be enough if you’re empty inside.

You can conquer summits, hit milestones, and build your reputation. 

But none of it matters if you can’t remember the last time you laughed without guilt or spent a day doing nothing with the people you love.

And just by admiring the views on this section of our hike, I realized that I’ve already sold my soul to the Devil.

07:40 AM: Halfway 

We were close to reaching the top.

That’s what the female guides told us while we were taking a break at a station along the way.

Since my niece had already fully recovered, we didn’t spend much time there.

So we kept hiking and paused whenever we spotted something beautiful.

And there were plenty of beautiful views on this part of Mt. Kabunian.

There was no need to rush.

We had nothing to prove.

Some people might want to race ahead, hiking fast to show everyone they’re strong and capable of conquering towering mountains.

But not us.

We were here to walk, soak up the beauty of nature, and escape the stress of modern life.

And guess what?

The weather was perfect.

It wasn’t too warm, and it wasn’t too gloomy either.

With the weather on our side, we pressed on until we reached one of the most famous features of Mt. Kabunian.

08:32 AM: The Stairway to Heaven 

The Stairway to Heaven of Mt. Kabunian was just as picturesque as advertised.

As much as I wanted to climb the stairs, our guide told us to stop and wait for the hike organizer.

At first, I wondered why we had to regroup.

But when our organizer arrived, I finally found out.

The reason was simple: he wanted to take drone footage of everyone climbing the famous Stairway to Heaven.

Pretty sweet, right?

We let the other joiners go first and volunteered to wait until everyone else was done.

Soon, it was our turn to climb.

As I started up the steps, I was amazed by the scenery.

Personally, I didn’t care at all about the drone footage.

I was too busy soaking in the jagged peaks, rolling mountains, and rocky landscapes of Mt. Kabunian.

While climbing, I used my arms and back muscles to pull myself up each step.

That’s a veteran move to help my legs conserve energy, especially on a long stairway like this.

Then, we kept on hiking, until we arrived at another hanging bridge.

After snapping photos and videos, we pushed through our hike, until we arrived at an overlooking section.

Damn!

The views and rugged landscapes were out-of-this-world beautiful.

With its unique rock formations and surreal views, Mt. Kabunian is, no doubt, one of my favorite mountains in Luzon.

09:02 AM: The last sections of Mt. Kabunian 

The final ascents of Mt. Kabunian were nothing short of spectacular.

We tackled a series of steep, slippery slopes as we made our way toward the summit.

But the sweeping views and the fresh mountain breeze made every step worth it.

As for my niece, she was already back in tip-top condition.

Whenever someone hits that first wave of exhaustion early in a hike, I always remind them of this: you just have to survive the first wall.

Once you push past it, something shifts inside you.

Your confidence grows.

Your energy steadies.

And you find your rhythm.

If you give up at the first wall, you’ll never get the chance to find out what you’re capable of.

Furthermore, you won’t see the wonders the Universe has laid out for you.

I was glad my niece was feeling better and more confident.

I, however, was starting to hit my first wall.

With sleepless nights and lack of proper hydration, my quads and calves began to tighten up.

Fuck! 

09:40: The last ascent to the summit Mt. Kabunian

A friend once told me you can’t have it all at once.

When you’re young, you have all the energy and time in the world to do any crazy physical feat.

You have the strength and the wide-open days to climb the tallest mountains without a second thought.

And you have the time to spend with your loved ones on lazy Sunday mornings, birthday dinners, all the ordinary moments that make a life feel full.

But when you’re older, something changes.

You might have a little more money. 

A little more wisdom.

But your body doesn’t bounce back like it used to.

Your knees ache.

Your sleep is shallow. 

Your muscles scream at you halfway up a trail you would have sprinted when you were younger.

And time becomes this slippery thing you can never seem to hold onto.

I thought about that as I climbed the last few meters to the summit.

I’d spent the last 5 years believing that trading time for success was worth it. 

That sacrifice was the price of ambition.

And maybe it was.

But as I stood there, my legs tight as cables and my breath ragged, I had to admit something I’d been avoiding for years.

I fucked up the balance.

I spent so much time chasing promotions, milestones, and little victories that I forgot to take care of the simplest things.

I forgot to sleep.

I forgot to eat like a human being instead of a machine on autopilot.

I forgot to move my body for the sheer joy of it, instead of just dragging it from one obligation to the next.

Exercise used to be part of my daily life. It was something that kept me sane.

Then it became another casualty of my endless to-do list.

Climbing Mt. Kabunian made me realize that selling your soul to the Devil isn’t always as dramatic as it looks in movies and fiction.

Sometimes, it’s just an ordinary life where you keep saying “yes” to deadlines and other people’s expectations. 

And it’s a typical modern life where you say “maybe later” or “next time” to sleep, exercise, the people you love, and the simple joys that make life feel worth living.

People really do get rich, earn titles, and build reputations.

But they also lose something along the way.

Time.

Health.

Sleep.

The parts of themselves that once felt whole.

I stood there on that slope, knowing I couldn’t get back the years I’d spent sprinting toward the wrong finish line.

But maybe, at least, I could start paying attention to what I still had left.

Then, with whatever energy I had left, I made the final push and reached the top of Mt. Kabunian

10:00 AM: Summit of Mt. Kabunian 

We finally made it to the top of Mt. Kabunian.

It wasn’t as tough and demanding as Mount Matutum or Mount Talinis. 

But it challenged me in ways I didn’t expect.

And it handed me lessons I didn’t know I needed.

Maybe Mt. Kabunian really is a sacred mountain, not just for the Igorot tribe, but for anyone who sets foot on its slopes.

Perhaps it truly is the home of the Kankana-ey god, Apo Kabunian.

Personally, I think it’s sacred.

I’ve always kept an open mind when it comes to culture and faith.

I’m not religious, but I am spiritual.

And there’s a big difference between the two.

While waiting for the rest to finish their photo ops, I used our time at the summit to rest and stretch my weary muscles.

I also knew I had to conserve my energy and skip doing anything too crazy for photos.

Because going down can be even tougher than going up.

Then, it was our turn to pose in front of the summit sign.

Afterward, we made our way to the famous photo spot at the edge of Mt. Kabunian.

And guess what?

It was a little terrifying to stand there.

But in that moment, fear was just another reminder that I was still alive and maybe, finally, paying attention.

Rest is crucial 

We spent over an hour at the summit of Mt. Kabunian. 

As much as we wanted to go down immediately, we had to wait for the gol signal from our organizer.

And that was just fine. 

We used our time to rest, and replenish our energy.

And that’s one thing missing in my life these days. 

Rest has become a luxury too. 

I used to think I could just keep going.

That there would always be more time, more energy, more chances to pause and catch my breath later.

But sitting on the grassy summit of Mt. Kabunian, I realized how much I’d neglected the simplest, most human things.

Like sleep.

Like stillness.

Like being fully present in a single, ordinary moment.

I guess that’s the real trade when you sell your soul for success.

You don’t lose everything all at once.

You lose it by inches.

Like one skipped meal, one ignored headache, and one canceled weekend off at a time.

And when you finally look up from the grind, you’re left wondering where all those pieces of yourself disappeared to.

Mt. Kabunian didn’t magically fix me.

It didn’t erase the years I spent chasing milestones or pretending I was fine.

But it did something I hadn’t let myself do in a long time.

It made me stop.

It made me listen.

And it reminded me that there’s still time to reclaim the parts of myself I’ve left behind.

So I sat there on that summit, letting the mountain air fill my lungs and the quiet settle in my bones.

I told myself that when I got back home, I’d start choosing differently.

Maybe not all at once.

But little by little, I’d say “yes” to what really matters and “no” to the things that never did.

The hike back to the base

Soon, we noticed some signs that rain was coming.

The sky turned a bit gray, and the wind was a little colder.

So, we asked our guides and organizer if we could start to go down.

The organizer said we could go down after a group photo on the summit of Mt. Kabunian.

After the quick snaps, we began our steep descent to the jump-off point.

At first, the weather seemed fine and sunny.

Some were a bit complacent, thinking things would be easier going down.

But it’s not easy to go down from a mountain, especially when it’s raining.

Soon, thick fog covered the mountains of Bakun, Benguet.

Then, the skies opened, and unleashed a downpour.

In minutes, the trail turned into a slick, muddy slide.

The rocks we had carefully climbed hours earlier were now hidden beneath sheets of rain.

Every step became a negotiation between balance and gravity.

Some of the joiners slipped more than once.

I saw nervous faces and tired legs wobbling under the strain.

But what could you do?

You had to keep moving, one slow, careful step at a time.

I checked on my niece constantly.

She looked exhausted but determined, her hair plastered to her face, her hands gripping the wet rails and roots.

I was proud of her for not complaining, for just quietly putting one foot in front of the other.

I guess that’s another thing mountains teach you.

Sometimes, the only way through the mess is to stay calm and keep going.

Even though I was soaked to the bone, part of me was strangely grateful for the rain.

It was like the mountain’s final reminder:

You can’t control everything.

You can’t schedule every hardship or plan every rescue.

Sometimes, you just have to surrender to the elements, and to your own limits.

By the time we reached the last stretch of stairs, the rain had slowed to a drizzle.

My legs felt like they belonged to someone else.

My knees were screaming.

But at that moment, I didn’t feel defeated.

I felt oddly lighter.

Perhaps it was the relief of being almost done.

Maybe it was the knowledge that I could still do hard things, even when I hadn’t been taking care of myself.

Or maybe it was just the quiet satisfaction that, for once, I hadn’t rushed past everything to get to the end.

We arrived back at the jump-off point muddy, drenched, and tired in a way that felt honest.

Not the kind of tired you feel from grinding yourself down or chasing goals you’re not even sure you care about.

But the good kind of tiredness that comes after a day spent fully alive, fully present, and unmistakably human.

And as we changed into dry clothes, I told myself this wouldn’t be the last time I’d let myself slow down and just be.

I wasn’t sure how I’d do it yet.

But I knew that if I could climb Mt. Kabunian in this state, I could also find my way back to the version of myself that didn’t measure life in deadlines and checklists.

The version that still believes in rest.

The version that remembers the real summit isn’t at the top of a mountain or a career ladder, but it’s in the ordinary moments you decide are worth staying awake for.

Sample Mount Kabunian itinerary

• 08:00 PM – Assembly at Greenfield Mayflower Parking/MOA
• 08:30 PM – Cubao Kia Mcdo – Along MacArthur Highway
• 01:00 AM – Stop Over (Leeza’s Restaurant)
• 05:00 AM – ETA Población Bakun (Registration)
• 05:30 AM – Start of Hike
• 09:00 AM – 1ST Water source
• 11:00 AM – ETA Summit of Mt. Kabunian | Early Lunch
• 01:00 PM – ETD Brgy Poblacion (Backtrail)
• 04:00 PM – ETA at Barangay Hall Poblacion
• 05:00 PM – ETD going to Manila 
• 1:00 AM – Home sweet home!

What is Mount Kabunian’s difficulty level?

Mount Kabunian is generally considered a mid-to-challenging hike. It’s not super extreme like a technical climb, but definitely more than just a nature stroll. Hikers rate it around 5 out of 9 on local difficulty scales.

Where is Mount Kabunian located?

Mount Kabunian is located in Barangay Poblacion, Bakun municipality, in the province of Benguet, part of the Cordillera Administrative Region of northern Luzon, Philippines.

How to get to Mount Kabunian?

The best and most convenient way to get to Mt. Kabunian is to join an organized day hike. If you want to take this route, I recommend Tribu Nije.

Is Mt. Kabunian a major hike?

I won’t say it’s a major climb, but I also won’t call it a minor hike ideal for beginners. So, personally, I’ll just call it a major day hike.