Mt. Makiling And The Rare Rafflesias Most People Will Never See

The graveyard of dreams isn’t filled with people who failed. It’s filled with people who didn’t show up. They are the people who waited for the right time, the right energy, and the right mood. I almost joined them on a Sunday when my body was wrecked from a book signing and an unexpected pitch meeting. Netflix was loaded and the cozy hotel bed was ready. But I dragged myself to Mt. Makiling anyway. 

Twenty kilometers on dead legs, running on sleepless nights after a 40-hour work week.

And guess what? I saw rafflesias, one of the rarest flowers on earth, blooming for the stubborn idiot who refused to stay home.

I’ve been to many mountains across the Philippines, including the 5 highest. But I had never seen a rafflesia, until that day. 

So how many rafflesias have you already missed because you chose to stay comfortable?

How many views, moments, and stories have you traded for a couch and a screen?

I don’t want to live a life full of “almosts” and what-ifs. That’s why I still climbed Mt. Makiling that day, despite all the stress and chaos. 

My Mt. Makiling hike

There are days when you feel like doing nothing. You just want to lie in bed and watch Netflix all day.

And honestly, there’s nothing wrong with resting. I’m the last person to tell you to hustle nonstop. I wrote a whole blog about doing nothing on a beach in Aurora.

But not every day is the same. Some days matter more than others. And some opportunities don’t come back.

And this weekend was one of them. 

On Saturday, I had a book signing at the Philippine Book Festival for my book, 101 Letters to Juliet. In the middle of it, out of nowhere, I got an email from GMA 7. They were looking for stories from authors with published books. 

So I went from signing books to pitching to one of the biggest media companies in the Philippines, on the same day, in almost the same hour.

By the time I got back to the hotel, I was sleepy and drained. Did I mention I took an early flight from Cebu to Manila past midnight that was also delayed?

And in a few hours, I had to meet as hiking group at 1:30 AM for Mt. Makiling.

Every logical part of me said skip it, sleep, recover, and you’ve done enough for one weekend.

I told myself Mt. Makiling would always be there. I could go next time when I’m rested and the timing actually makes sense.

Yet I still set my alarm.

Common sense said no. My legs said no. And my pillow said hell no. But I’ve never been good at listening. Stubbornness is either my greatest strength or my worst habit. I still haven’t figured out which.

The meet-up and drive to UP Los Baños

I’ve never once had a hike where everything felt easy. Nobody has. Well, except maybe for Osmeña Peak and Ablayan Peak.

But this one was different. The mountain wasn’t the problem. I was.

From my hotel, I walked all the way to 7-Eleven and waited for the group. I was running on fumes. My eyes were so tired that even the fluorescent lights inside felt like too much.

After boarding the van, I immediately tried to catch some sleep on our way to UP Los Baños, the jump-off of our Mt. Makiling day hike.

I managed to sleep a little on the way. It helped, but not much. It was enough to make me feel more of a human than a zombie. 

Unlike Mount Purgatory, Kibungan and other mountains in the Cordilleras, Mt. Makiling is close to Manila, and close doesn’t give you enough road to rest.

It was still cold and dark when we arrived at UP Los Baños. With just a few hours of sleep in the past couple of days, my body immediately reminded me that this was a terrible idea.

Sleep matters on any mountain, whether it’s a minor hike or a major climb. So please, don’t do what I did.

But I’ve climbed the tallest mountains in the Philippines on barely any sleep across consecutive days. This wasn’t new. I practically grew up doing things without sleep.

The problem wasn’t my conditioning. I knew once I got a rhythm, my inner mountaineer would come out.

The problem was my will to climb and hike Mt. Makiling that day.

The cold air made it worse. I was sleepy, weak, and my body was begging me to sit down somewhere and close my eyes.

So I walked around to make my body warm, and prevent my eyes from shutting down.

Soon, 5:30 AM came. 

The sky was lighter.

We gathered around for the usual pre-hike briefing, the dos and don’ts, trail reminders, and safety instructions. I’ve heard it a hundred times before, but I still listen because mountains don’t care how experienced you think you are.

The guides informed us about the distance, and the 29 marker stations on this trail in Mt. Makiling. They also talked about the rare plants and animals in Mt. Makiling.

After that, we began hiking Mt. Makiling on a paved concrete road. 

The concrete road section of Mt. Makiling

Concrete roads are a hiker’s nightmare.

On forest paths, grassy routes, or dirt trails, the ground absorbs some of the impact every time your foot lands. Concrete doesn’t do that, unfortunately. 

Every step on it sends that force back into your joints. A few steps are nothing. But on a long 20-kilometer hike, thousands of steps can put serious stress on your knees.

While hiking the concrete section of Mt. Makiling, I used a few techniques to conserve energy and lessen the impact on my joints.

First, I used the zigzagging technique instead of pushing straight uphill. It may look longer and slower, but it breaks the slope into gentler, more manageable climbs. It also distributes the effort more evenly across the legs instead of putting too much strain on the back, hamstrings, and knees with every step.

I also used the baby steps technique, shortening my stride to save energy and keep a steady rhythm.

Then I looked up. Ahead of me were young, strong hikers powering through the concrete like it was nothing.

I wasn’t planning to keep up with their pace. I would walk steady and slow with limited rests.

I’m an OG hiker, and I know hiking isn’t a race or a competition that showcases your speed and power.

Hiking, like life, should be done at your own pace. You shouldn’t adjust your pace just to impress anyone or show that you’re fast.

Speed doesn’t earn you anything on the trail. At the end of the hike, you’d still end up on the same van, and nobody would remember who finished first.

Soon, I walked side by side with our co-organizer, who’s also an OG hiker.

We talked about the different mountains in Luzon and hikes outside the region, including Mount Talinis and Mount Apo.

Slowly, I was getting my rhythm.

I was starting to sweat, and I could feel the adrenaline flowing through my veins.

My heart was pounding, and I was in my element.

Soon, we arrived at a station where we could buy snacks, refreshments, and have breakfast.

I usually prefer a lighter breakfast, something like bread, bananas, or a sandwich.

But this time, I thought I deserved a good old rice meal, something like pastil.

After breakfast, we took a quick photo of the Mt. Makiling sign and continued our hike.

Along the way, our co-organizer introduced me to the organizer of our Mt. Makiling hike, Miss Ya Zi, who was surprised to find hikers from Cebu joined her hike.

We walked and talked about the picturesque hikes in Luzon.

I listened carefully, absorbing as much information as I could.

As we were hiking the concrete road, Miss Ya Zi also showed the other attractions and activities in Mt. Makiling.

Then she said something that caught my attention. It was the best time to hike Mt. Makiling because rafflesia bloomed during these months.

That woke me up more than any coffee could have. I’ve been to mountains all over the Philippines and I had never seen a rafflesia in person. The thought of finally seeing one on this hike got me excited.

So, we kept walking until we arrived at the Agila Base.

As I was about to sit and take a break, I looked up and saw a sign saying “Welcome to the Wilderness.”

At that moment, I knew our Mt. Makiling hike would be an absolute blast.

Entering the wilderness 

We took a long break from our hike at the Agila Base, which was the last concrete section of the trail.

Some took bathroom breaks, while others ate snacks and drank refreshments.

I didn’t want to have a long break because it would slow down the momentum.

And with the cold fresh mountain air, a long pit stop would make me sleepy and a little lazy.

We asked the guides if we can go ahead, and go on on with our Mt. Makiling hike.

The guides, however, didn’t allow it, which was okay because that was their protocol.

They said we need to go with the rest of the group or have a team photo before we enter the wilderness. 

So, we sat down, and waited for the rest of the team to arrive at Agila Base.

And slowly, I could feel my eyes shutting down. 

I had to stand up and shake my body. Walk around. Keep the blood moving. The moment you sit still and let comfort win, the fight is over.

That’s true on a mountain. It’s true in life too. The hardest part is never the climb. It’s the pause. It’s the rest stop where your body whispers, “stay here, this is nice.” And if you listen, you never get back up.

The rest of the group eventually arrived, and we headed into the wilderness.

The trail was flat at first, winding through a thick forest. The surface was uneven but manageable. There weren’t a lot of slippery sections and the ascents were mild.

We kept hiking until the weather changed. It went from sunny to cloudy, and the skies turned dark and gray. That’s normal on the trail. Sometimes it’s sunny at the base, but the higher you climb, the windier it gets, and rain has a habit of showing up right when you’re close to the summit.

So far, nothing wild had happened. And nothing spectacular had happened on our Mt. Makiling hike. Little did I know, I was about to see one of the world’s rarest flowers. 

The stinking corpse lily

The most important skill I’ve ever developed isn’t talent. It isn’t intelligence. It’s showing up when nothing about the situation says I should.

Even in hikes and travel, that skill comes in handy.

And on this hike, it led me to the rafflesia, also known as the stinking corpse lily.

As we were hiking the slopes of Mt. Makiling, I kept asking guides where we would find the elusive rafflesia.

This wasn’t my first try to catch one of the rarest flowers on earth.

A couple of years ago, I hiked Mount Napulak in Igbaras, Iloilo, hoping to see the stinking corpse lily.

Unfortunately, there were no blooming rafflesias on our hike.

At station 14, our guide pointed to a spot where we could find one.

And we did, though it was almost lifeless and slowly dying.

There was also one that was about to bloom.

The guides said we’d find more in other stations.

So we went on our hike, with our usual steady and consistent pace.

Until we finally saw a big, healthy rafflesia.

And guess what?

It wasn’t easy to snap a picture of this one.

I had to climb a slope with loose soil, hang on a branch and contort my body just to see it.

Our guide said there could be more on our way to the summit of Mt. Makiling.

The keywords here are “could be more.” That means there might or might not be more rafflesias on our hike that day.

The thing is, you never know if the next chance is real. “Later” is the most overused promise we make to ourselves. Later I’ll travel. Later I’ll write the book. Later I’ll tell them how I feel. But later has a terrible track record. Most of the things we postpone never happen.

In my latest book, Seven Polaroids from Estela, I kept mentioning the quote “drink the coffee before it gets cold.”

And there’s a reason why I kept saying that.

I’ve missed enough in my life to know that when something rare is right in front of you, you don’t walk past it hoping for a better one down the trail.

After that, we continued our hike. And we did see more rafflesias along the way, each one as stunning as the last.

But here’s what I noticed. None of them were easy to find. They weren’t sitting on the main trail waiting for you. They were tucked into slopes, hidden behind roots and growing in spots you’d miss if you weren’t paying attention.

Rare things don’t bloom in convenient places. That’s what makes them rare. You have to show up, get uncomfortable, and sometimes climb a muddy slope while hanging on a branch just to see one.

The steep assault to the top of Mt. Makiling

They said the trail would be steep and may seem like a never-ending uphill climb.

And they were right.

There were very few flat sections on the last remaining stretch to the top. Sometimes, you had to hold on to roots and rocks to pull yourself up. There were also roped segments to help hikers navigate the steep, muddy, and slippery slopes.

The trail in way reminded me of my hikes in Alto Peak and Mount Hamiguitan.

Somewhere along the way, I felt both my hamstrings tighten up.

I was kind of expecting it. I hadn’t had enough sleep or hydration in the past couple of days, and my body was finally letting me know.

Even so, I kept pushing. It was a little hard. Every step up the slope felt heavier than the last. But I’ve learned something about hard things. They don’t get easier. You just get more used to choosing them anyway.

That’s the whole point of showing up. It was never supposed to feel good. 

While I was an experienced OG hiker, there was still a real chance I wouldn’t make it to the summit that day. And honestly, I was okay with that.

Because I’d rather fail on the slope than succeed at doing nothing. Staying in my comfort zone has never taught me anything. It has never challenged me, changed me, or given me a story worth telling. Failure at least teaches you something. Comfort just takes your time and gives you nothing back.

That’s my mantra in life. And that’s why I dare to do new things even if it would make me look stupid.

So I kept climbing, and was eventually rewarded with a beautiful view of Tadlac Lake and Laguna de Bay.

And speaking of Laguna de Bay, this is one of the places I only thought I’d see in textbooks and postcards.

Would I have seen Laguna de Bay had I given in to comfort and watched Netflix that day?

Nobody knows.

I may have multiple opportunities to see it again in my life.

But in a world where strange things happen in an instant, I may never have the chance to see it again.

If COVID taught us anything, it’s to do the things you want to do while you still can.

As we admired the panorama, our guides said the view was better at station 26.

And just like that, we continued our hike and were eventually rewarded with a stunning view of Los Baños from station 26.

I spent a moment there just admiring the view. And I couldn’t help but think, I almost skipped this for Netflix and a hotel pillow.

Don’t get me wrong. I enjoy doing nothing, especially when my batteries are drained and I’m mentally exhausted. 

But this wasn’t one of those days to do that. Some days are for resting. Some days are for recovering. And some days show up with something you’ve never seen before, and the only way to receive it is to be there. This was one of those days.

We continued climbing. The trail got steeper and muddier with every station. It was difficult, but I had been on tougher mountains before.

And that’s because I keep showing up. Every mountain I’ve climbed has pushed me outside my comfort zone. Every tough trail has made the next one a little less intimidating. You don’t get stronger by choosing easy. You get stronger by choosing hard so many times that hard starts feeling normal.

Same thing in life. The hard conversation you’ve been avoiding will make your relationships stronger. The career risk that terrifies you will teach you more than ten years of playing it safe. The trip you almost canceled will become the one you never shut up about.

Summit of Mt. Makiling

We arrived at the summit. We took pictures of the signage and the view, the usual summit rituals that every hiker knows.

I sat down for a while and stretched my hamstrings. They had been screaming at me since the steep assault section, and they deserved a moment.

From here, I could see a beautiful silhouette of a mountain in the distance. The wind was cold up there. I could feel it through my shirt.

I just sat there, looking at everything and thinking about nothing. After days of running on empty, this was exactly what I needed.

Then we moved on to the mossy forest of Mt. Makiling.

If you’ve ever been to the Avatar Forest in Mount Dulang-Dulang, this felt familiar. Trees wrapped in moss, roots tangled in every direction, and air so cool and damp it felt like stepping into another world.

We spent some time exploring the mossy forest before heading back to the summit area.

By then, people were arriving in droves and the summit was starting to get crowded. The wind was also getting colder, and I could feel my body slowing down. In my younger days, I could sit on a summit for hours. But I’m not that young anymore, and my body doesn’t forgive the way it used to.

As an OG hiker, I knew that long pauses could kill your momentum. The longer you sit, the harder it is to warm up again. And with the cold wind making me sleepy, I didn’t want to push my luck.

So we asked permission from Miss Ya Zi to descend ahead of the group. We didn’t want to be rude, but it was the smarter call.

Fortunately, she allowed us to go ahead.

Going down from the summit 

On the way down, we bumped into other hikers still making their way up. We encouraged them, told them they were close and just needed to push a little more.

Going down may seem easy, but it wasn’t. The trail was still muddy and slippery. But awareness and years of hiking experience helped me get through the hardest parts.

I also realized something about hiking. It forces you to live in the present. You’re so busy calculating each step that all the worries and deadlines inside your head just disappear. No room for overthinking when one wrong step could send you sliding down a slope.

We made it down smoothly and arrived at the Agila Base where we took a quick break.

Then came the concrete section again. And going down on concrete is a different beast entirely.

Downhill already puts extra load on your knees. Add a hard surface, and now your knees are doing most of the braking with zero help from the ground. That’s when you start feeling that sharp, annoying ache that could stay with you for days.

As we were hiking, we realized we still had a lot of time left. We were about four hours head of our schedule. So, we decided to take a detour to one of the bizarre natural wonders in Mt. Makiling: Mud Springs.

Mud Springs 

I didn’t know what Mud Springs looked like. I didn’t even know it existed or that it could be included as a side trip on our Mt. Makiling hike.

As I’ve always said, I hate spoilers, so I don’t do a lot of research on the places I’m going to.

I wanted to be surprised, and Mud Springs delivered.

Getting to Mud Springs was easy. The trail was mild with no sharp ascents.

And then there it was. A muddy, bubbling pool sitting in the middle of the forest, hissing and gurgling like the earth was breathing. It was bizarre and fascinating at the same time.

I stood there watching it and thinking, this is another thing I almost missed. Another thing Netflix wouldn’t have shown me. Another thing that only exists for people who bother to leave their comfort zone.

People love to talk about talent, having the right connections, and perfect timing. But I’ve seen more extraordinary things in my life by simply showing up than any talented person has seen from their couch. Talent is overrated. Showing up is the only skill that has never let me down.

Think about it. The person who gets promoted isn’t always the smartest in the room. It’s the one who keeps showing up and doing the work. The person who gets in shape isn’t the one with the best genetics. It’s the one who keeps showing up to the gym. The person who sees a rafflesia isn’t the luckiest hiker. It’s the one who laced up their boots on a day they didn’t feel like it.

Nobody remembers who was the most talented. They remember who was there.

We spent a few minutes there, resting and enjoying the view. Then we followed the trail back to the concrete road and headed down to the base..

The downhill hike

On our way back to the base, a multitude of thoughts flowed through my head.

I thought about how I showed up even when the conditions weren’t in my favor.

And I thought about pausing happiness because of hard times.

There were a few reasons why I shouldn’t have hiked Mt. Makiling that day.

And some would even say that I should stop hiking and wait for life to calm down before I allow myself to live.

But that’s the biggest travesty I could do to myself.

I know everything seems to be going downhill these days.

We have wars in the Middle East, skyrocketing oil prices, and the never-ending political teleserye in the Philippines. 

But guess what? 

We’re not the first generation to live in political dysfunction. 

We’re not the first generation to live in a time when the world seems to fall apart. 

We are not the first generation to live in a time when people are shitty to one another and demigods are in power. 

No, we’re not. 

Life has always been difficult since ancient times. Nature gives everything to humanity, but we, humans, are greedy and power-hungry, and we make things complicated for ourselves.

And you can’t control any of it. You can’t stop the wars. You can’t fix the politics. You can’t make the world behave.

But you can still show up. You can still lace up your boots on a Sunday when your body says no. You can still choose to live even when the world gives you every reason not to.

Happiness is not something you pause until the world calms down. Because the world never calms down. It never has. And if you keep waiting for the perfect conditions, you’ll spend your whole life on the couch watching other people live theirs.

We arrived at the base, ate lunch, and I fell asleep in the van while waiting for the rest of the team.

It was the best sleep I had in days. Maybe because I actually earned it this time.

I could have slept in that hotel bed. I could have watched Netflix all Sunday. I could have let exhaustion win.

But I didn’t. And because I didn’t, I saw rafflesias, stood on a view deck with a view of Laguna de Bay, watched mud bubble from the earth, and hiked 20 kilometers on a body that had every right to quit.

None of that happens from a couch.

So the next time life gets hard and your body says not today, remember this. The graveyard of dreams isn’t filled with people who failed. It’s filled with people who didn’t show up.

Show up anyway.

When is best month to hike Mt. Makiling? 

The best time to hike Mt. Makiling is during the dry season, from November to May. For the most comfortable experience, aim for December to February. The weather is cooler, the trails are less muddy, and the climb feels a lot more forgiving. March to May is still a good window, but expect a little heat.

The best time to visit Mt. Makiling to see the Rafflesia panchoana is from February to May, with the peak blooming season occurring between March and April..

Is Mt. Makiling beginner friendly?

Yes… but with a small reality check. Mt. Makiling is technically beginner-friendly, but it’s not the walk-in-the-park hike where you take selfies every five steps. If you’re new to hiking, this mountain is actually a solid first challenge. The trails are well-established, and you’re not dealing with technical climbs or scary drop-offs. You won’t need advanced mountaineering skills and a whole lot of equipment. You just need your legs and and a bit of stubbornness.

How to hike Mount Makiling?

The best way hike Mount Makiling is to join an organized hike. It’s convenient, affordable, and a good way to meet other people. If you prefer to take this route, I recommend Puno Travel Group. You can contact their page or message Miss YA ZI.