In 2012, I first climbed Pico De Loro with my mountaineer friends. To feed our wanderlust and quench our thirst for adventure, we completed the loop with an overnight camp after the day hike. It’s one of the favorite weekend getaways for city dwellers—evident from the crowded campsite when we arrived. The Parrot’s Beak summit offers a challenge to anyone who dares. It’s where stamina, endurance, and strength are tested.

The reward of accomplishment waits at the summit. The mountain itself is ideal for beginners, and most importantly, it’s a DENR-protected area.

⏩ Fast Forward to 2016…

Returning felt refreshing—and surprising.

• We no longer took the old trail.
• Overnight camping was no longer allowed; only day hikes.
• The cleanliness of the area amazed me.
• I missed the old trail—it was easier to navigate and shaded by trees and shrubs.
• This time, I was with a new group.

🥾 It’s the Climb…

It was 9 AM, and I could already feel the sun frying me as we began ascending. My knees weakened, but we reached the campsite, which was packed with hikers. On weekends, it’s common to see city folks queuing like ants in an anthill, each trying to reach the summit as fast as they can.

The higher we climbed, the steeper it became. That made the hike more adventurous and meaningful. Dried grasses became my companions, helping me push forward. It was tough, but I made it—slowly but surely. I thought about my past climbs, and that memory pushed me higher. After all, I’d been here before. Why not do it again?

Ascending is hard, but descending is harder. Still, the rewards are inevitable once you’re on top—like winning a prize. I reached the crowded summit, eyes filled with scenic views: green mountain ranges, deep blue sea, clear skies, and fresh mountain air.

🪨 The Monolith Redemption

Looking at it is like scaring yourself. That gigantic rock formation seems impossibly planted into the earth, daring you to climb. Though not mandatory, a Pico De Loro hike feels incomplete without trying the monolith—at least once.

In my first climb, I failed to reach it. I left the mountain with that monolith uncrossed. But I promised myself: I will return. And when I do, I will climb that intimidating monolith.

We couldn’t go up all at once, so we waited. It was a long wait. Then came my turn.

Legs shaking. Heart pounding. Hands sweating. One step could mean everything: step back and regret, or step forward and face my fear.

Slowly and surely, I took my first brave step—toward the rope. One careful move at a time until I finally reached the top.

🧗‍♀️ Mission Monolith: Accomplished

Yes. The top of the monolith. I made it.

It was a rewarding experience. I saw my proud self standing on that scary rock, wondering how I got there. Mission accomplished.

We didn’t stay long—other hikers were lining up. We returned to the campsite for lunch. It was all worth it. I went home with another story to tell. Another adventure to share.

In 2012, I watched from below. In 2016, I climbed. Not to erase the past, but to complete the sentence I left unfinished.