Mount Kanlaon (Negros, Philippines)

Table of contents:

• Photostory
• Trail and map

Photostory

It is December 2014 and I am traveling in the Philippines with my buddy Stefano. We planned this holiday in the name of experiencing rather than sightseeing, so we dedicated most of our days to scuba diving in amazing locations such as El Nido and Coron Bay in Palawan, and Puerto Galera, Mindoro.
However, I cannot declare myself satisfied unless there is some hiking or biking involved, so I talked Stefano into hiking Mt. Kanlaon in what it was supposed to be a 3 days, 2 nights trip in the middle of the island of Negros, which was not even closely included in our original plan and required dedicated air travel to reach.
And there we are in Bacolod, the capital city of Negros, which has not too much to offer apart from some nice colonial houses. We arranged our hike with Trailadventours, and our guide comes on time to pick us up, destination Guintudban.

After a few hours we arrive at the designated location, which is a ghostly tiny village with dirtroads and very basic concrete or wood constructions. We meet up with the rest of our party: we will be escorted by two guides and one porter, who will carry food and cooking gears.
It is mid morning, and the plan for the day is to reach our campsite by mid afternoon, set camp, relax, eat dinner and go to sleep early. On our second day we would reach the crater, enjoy the view and come back to the campsite for another night. The third morning would be dedicated to hike back to Guintudban (as we shall see later, we managed to cut one day off the plan).
As soon as we leave Guintudban, we are immediately surrounded by the lush vegetation and the sounds of the forest. After a few hundred meters, we find a nice waterfall that makes the perfect scene for some photo memories.

The trail quickly becomes narrower and steeper. It is obvious that this is not a man-made trail, and was very likely dug by the rainwater flushing down the slopes of the mountain. This means that the terrain is largely muddy, steep, rooty and slippery.

We try our best to keep our balance whilst maintaining a good pace. Not because we are in a rush, quite the contrary, but because we know there tracks are infested with leeches, and we hope to get as few as possible by moving quickly. We stop every fifteen minutes for a leech check and, invariably, find some trying to make their way to an exposed area of our body. Good thing we took all precautions by the book and wore long sleeves and pants despite the soaking humidity and baking heat.

After 4 or 5 hours we reach our campsite, which is nothing more than a clearing in the jungle. We haven’t seen anything apart from trees and plants today, with the ever-present canopy always engulfing us into the thick jungle.

We have some time to relax guiltily as the guides prepare the tents, always watching each other’s back against the feared leeches. The sun sets around 6.30 PM at these latitudes, so we east dinner early. Our meal is based on dehydrated chicken noodles soup and black tea…not fancy but welcome to replenish our energy levels, that the jungle drained quite quickly.

As we are going to sleep, we realize that our rented gear was missing one important piece of equipment: the sleeping mats. One guide says it was supposed to be provided by the other guide, who in turns replied there was a misunderstanding. In any case, we were short of sleeping mats, which are an absolute necessity to keep the body warm on a camping night as they provide the insulation from the terrain. We have two sleeping mats in total and we need to share them, so Stefano and me place our horizontally so that we can insulate at least the core of our bodies.

As you can imagine, the night passed very slowly and with a lot of cold. Stefano is already second-guessing the choice of coming along with me, seeing no fun at all in passing a night in the wild in miserable conditions. We wake up with the sun, and have breakfast with instant coffee and – again – chicken noodles soup.

The weather is foggy and misty, as morning clouds haven’t been dissipated yet by the heat of the sun. We wear our rainjackets and set foot very early towards the crater, following the muddy track in the drizzle.

The trail is now extremely steep, with some sections that require climbing slippery roots. Again, we keep a good pace and after one hour of steep climbing, the trail flattens out and for the first time shows us some views: the Margaha valley, which is the first crater of Mt Kanlaon, now inactive and hosting a lake and lush forests.
We follow the ridge uphill until the vegetation dissipates as we reach 2100 meters above sea level. Now we can see the base of the main active crater, its tops still covered in the morning clouds. By this point, we are almost totally wet, our skin humid with drizzle and our pants soaked by dew.

In order to reach the base of the main crater and begin the final climb, we need to cross a very exposed area on a windswept saddle point, where clouds pass by at mind-boggling speed. Our guides instruct us to duck as we move and to expose the smallest surface possible to direct winds. Some bursts are so strong that we struggle to keep our balance.

We begin the climb from the western side of the crater, the side providing the most shelter from the gusting wind. The trail here is not beaten, so we need to improvise our way up to the top.

As we climb the weather clears out and we can finally contemplate the views. The flat land down below appears magically and stretches as far out as the eye can see, puffs of clouds scattered in the distance.

We finally reach the top at 2465 meters above sea level. We are at the top of the main active crater, a gigantic hole as big as an entire city block, a couple of hundred meters deep.The view is stunning, almost otherworldly. We tentatively approach the edge of the crater laying on our stomach, or guides laughing at us nonchalantly as we poke our head into the vertical drop.

After taking all the well-deserved photos, it is time to head back to camp. Actually, we realize it is only 9:30 a.m. and that we have the entire day ahead of us. Stefano and me just need to exchange a quick glance to understand that we had the same idea: why spending another entire day at the campsite when we could try to get back to civilization today?
We discuss our plan with the guides, who have mixed feelings about our proposal. On one side, they would be happy to get back to their families one day ahead of schedule, but on the other side they don’t want us risking a twisted ankle or getting tired halfway down the hike, stranding the whole group on unwelcoming terrain.
They finally decide to trust our determined looks but at one conditions: we do not have any time to lose as we need to be back to Guintadban by 6:00 PM tops, otherwise it will get dark. They warn us that the trail will be slippery after the morning rain, and that we still have to prepare our campsite and all. We are still in.
We set foot at a good pace, the local guide leading the way, followed by the English-speaking guide from Trailadventours and us.

We reach our campsite by 11, where the chubby porter is incredulous to hear us wanting to head back on the same day. He knows he will have to hike fast with a hell of a load.
After a quick (second) breakfast based once more on chicken soup, we begin the descent. The formation is the same, with the two guides opening the track and the porter closing the group.
The trail is even more slippery and gnarlier than the yesterday. We have to use our hands to grab tree branches and trunks to maintain balance and hike the steepest parts.

The local guide purposefully maintains a fast pace, but we have no trouble tailing him. Covered in sweat and mud up to our knees, we stubbornly keep up with his rhythm not even minding about possible leeches.

The same does not apply for the Trailadventours guide, who slows down after a couple of hours. He’s beaten, and quickly gives away his second position to myself and Stefano. The porter cannot be seen or heard, but our local guide reassures us that we shouldn’t mind.
After a quick break we resume the descent at an even faster pace. The effort is strong but also rewarding, and after a while it is obvious that we will reach our destination well ahead of our scheduled time. However, this does not slow down our guide, who actually seems to take it personally not to be able to put some distance between himself and two tourists in his local trails.

The last half hour is actually quite ridiculous: our guide keeps increasing the pace further, first to a jog then to a full-swing run, jumping obstacles and literally throwing himself down the trail.

We are not intimidated and follow along. The rest of our party is somewhere far away, but now we have triggered our spirit of competition so there is nothing else to think of. After the last minutes at high-beats and pouring sweat, we reach the first mud houses of Guintadban, where finally our guide stops to a halt and greets us with a wide grin. He is also tired, and we earned his respect keeping up its mind-boggling pace.
The same cannot be told about the Trailadventours guide nor the porter, who will reach us several minutes later. We kill time relaxing with some curious local kids that never get tired of taking photos, and by sunset we are already driving back to Bacolod, having conquered Mount Kanlaon.

In Bacolod, we realize we are on the track of an incoming typhoon. We change our plans and fly back to Manila the following morning, using the last window of opportunity before all airplanes get grounded for a few days.
All in all, our crazy fast hike down Mount Kanlaon saved us from being stranded in Negros for a few days.

Trail and Map

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