Every step toward Mount Apo’s summit was a step away from the person I thought I had lost, and closer to the person I was becoming.
By Lyndille Mae Cabaluna
I came home from the United Kingdom carrying more than luggage. I carried disappointment, heartbreak, and a quiet exhaustion that words could not fully explain.
Like many Filipinos, I had left the Philippines in search of opportunity and a better future. For nearly three years, I worked as a nurse and tried to build a life abroad. From the outside, everything seemed stable. But behind that image was a reality marked by workplace bullying, loneliness, and eventually, a broken engagement that shattered the future I thought awaited me.
Returning home was not part of my plan. Yet in my brokenness, I found myself drawn back to something familiar. I returned to the mountains, hoping that somewhere along their quiet trails, I might find peace again.
RETURNING TO THE MOUNTAINS
My first ascent was Mount Pulag, located in Benguet in northern Luzon. At 2,926 meters above sea level, it is the country’s third-highest peak and is revered as the “Playground of the Gods.” Mount Pulag is best known for its ethereal sea of clouds, a phenomenon that transforms the summit at dawn into something otherworldly.
As the sun rises, soft shades of pink, gold, and amber ripple across the clouds, creating a moment that feels both fleeting and eternal.
It is no surprise that Mount Pulag draws hikers and photographers from around the world. Several trails lead to the summit, with the Ambangeg Trail offering the most accessible route for beginners. Even so, preparation is essential. The cold can be unforgiving, and the long ascent demands stamina. More experienced hikers may choose the Akiki or Kabatangan Trails, which offer steeper climbs and longer distances.
The journey to the summit winds through mossy forests, rolling grasslands, and open meadows dotted with wildflowers. Fog drifts in without warning, lending the landscape a quiet mystery. The mountain commands respect. Weather changes quickly, and every step requires presence and care.
When I reached the peak, the air was crisp and thin, carrying the scent of pine and damp earth. The grasslands rolled like gentle waves under my feet, and the sea of clouds stretched endlessly below, glowing softly in the morning light. From that vantage point, the world seemed both immense and peaceful.
RAINBOW AFTER THE STORM
As I began my descent, fog rolled in and dimmed everything around me. Then, unexpectedly, a rainbow appeared. It felt gentle, deeply personal, and humbling in its beauty.
What first seemed like an obstacle, the fog obscuring the view, had actually prepared the way for something extraordinary.
I was reminded of God’s covenant, sealed with a rainbow as a promise of hope after the storm. In that moment, I felt seen. After months of feeling diminished and discarded, I understood that while people may break their promises, God does not abandon His.
Even though my life had felt uncertain for so long, I realized that my circumstances could not break the Lord’s plan for me.
Two months later, strengthened by that encounter, I made another decision. I would climb Mount Apo.
ANSWERING THE CALL OF MOUNT APO
Prior to this, I trained rigorously through daily workouts, fun runs, and minor hikes within my home province of Cebu. Rising 2,954 meters above sea level in Mindanao, Mount Apo is the highest peak in the Philippines and is often called the “King of Philippine Mountains.”
The climb is demanding and typically takes two to three days, depending on the route. Trails such as Kapatagan and Bansalan test both physical endurance and mental resolve, particularly near the summit.
We began our final ascent at one o’clock in the morning. Darkness surrounded us, and I could not see the trail ahead or fully grasp how steep the climb would be.
With each step, fatigue set in, and memories resurfaced. The quiet humiliation. The harsh words. The sudden ending of something I believed would last forever.
The mountain reflected that season of my life. It was steep, uncertain, and relentless.
The most difficult stretch was the bulldozed rocky section, intimidating and unyielding. At higher elevations, the air thins and cools, carrying the scent of sulfur from hidden vents beneath the earth.
I climbed slowly and deliberately, honoring my own pace. Our guide remained patient, steady, and present. I felt supported without judgment.
Unlike the voices that once tried to break me, the mountains did not mock weakness or demand perfection. They asked only for honesty. Honest effort. Honest surrender.
And I did summit.
CLIMBING OUT OF THE DARKNESS
Standing at the peak of Mount Apo, I realized the victory was not loud. It was quiet and sacred.
I was not only standing above the clouds. I was standing beyond the pain that once convinced me I was small, replaceable, and unworthy.
It was only during the descent, in daylight, that I truly saw how steep the climb had been. The darkness had hidden its severity, and perhaps that was grace. Had I known everything from the beginning, fear might have stopped me from starting at all.
Sometimes there is mercy in not knowing. Sometimes healing arrives step by step.
By the time I returned to the base, the mountain had broken my shoes, but it helped mend my broken heart.
THE LONG JOURNEY HOME
For balikbayans and travelers alike, Mount Pulag and Mount Apo offer more than adventure. They offer space to reflect, to be still, and to begin again.
Climbing them did not erase my pain. But somewhere along those trails, I began to heal.
When I left the Philippines, I was searching for a better life.
When I came home, I found it.
Not in another country, but in the quiet climb upward, one step at a time.
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Lyndille Mae Cabaluna is a Filipina nurse from Lapu-Lapu City, Cebu. She spent three years working in Poole, England before returning to the Philippines, where she recently passed her US nursing licensure exam. While preparing for her next nursing role, she volunteers with Divine Footprints Organization Inc., a nonprofit dedicated to community outreach. She enjoys reading, writing, and working out, and finds meaning in climbing mountains, where she experienced personal healing and rediscovered her sense of purpose.
