Mt. Banahaw: Where Trekking Meets Faith

Of all the places I have visited, it is Mt. Banahaw and its memories that have remained most intact in my mind. The mountain defines trekking to its core — not just as a physical climb, but as a journey into the culture of the people who live around it.

In this article, I want to focus on that culture: the beliefs of the communities living at the foot of the mountain. Their belief that passing safely through the Judgment Cave proves one's sinlessness, their belief in a stone formation as the Book of Life where writing one's name secures a place in heaven, and their belief in the healing power of water from Sta. Lucia Spring.  

As a visitor, some of these beliefs may seem unconventional to an outsider, but I have deep respect for them and for the people who hold them.

Mt. Banahaw sits on the boundary of Laguna and Quezon Province. It was once an active volcano, but since its last eruption in 1721, not a single eruption has followed, so it is now considered dormant. A two to three-hour drive from Manila will take you there. In my case, my friends, our guide, and I took a bus.

We alighted in Quezon and were welcomed by very hospitable locals. They served us a sumptuous meal and willingly advised us on the adventure we were about to undertake.

The place is considered sacred by every inhabitant. We would not be trekking alone; we would be trekking with devotees — people going up the mountain to fulfill a devotion and to meditate. Hence, we were instructed to keep quiet and to show reverence for their spiritual convictions.

We only had half a day for the trek, so we chose to visit places that, according to our guide, would not require too much time and effort.

The Judgment Cave — The Heart of the Experience

As expected, we started right at the foot of the mountain. Sturdy, tall trees whose leaves dimmed the path spared us from the scorching heat of the sun, yet their roots protruding from the ground made walking difficult.

After forty-five minutes, we reached our first destination. It was a cave with a wide opening and devotees lining up, waiting for their turn to get inside. All of them — male and female, young and old alike — were in white clothes. People in our group were the only ones in colored shirts and shorts.

Before we entered the sacred cave, our guide instructed us to remove our accessories and leave our cellular phones and anything else that might cause trouble as we squeezed through the hole. He called it a hole because the space between the walls of the stone cave was just enough for one person to pass through.

My turn came, and I felt like backing out. The thought of appearing like a coward before others prevented me from retreating. No choice.

I entered the cave crawling, head first. The stone walls were cold against my skin and I could not see anything. It was completely dark. As I crawled, I felt that I was going down and would certainly fall headlong if I had not heard a voice prompting me to shift position. Just then, I realized the space had become wider, enough for me to move around. I put my feet forward and let my body slide upon the stone floor. I landed facing a cold stone wall. Dead end, I thought.

Then I heard our guide behind me asking if I had reached the end of the tunnel. When I answered yes, he told me to hold on to a stalactite above my head, climb up, and pull myself into a hole that would lead to the exit. The space was so tight that I had to squeeze myself through. Then, I saw the light.

I was laughing when I got out of the dark cave. Had I been claustrophobic and disobedient, I would never have made it out. What a remarkable experience!

According to the locals, if you get out of that cave safely, it means you are free from sin — that you are judged as sinless. Whether one believes it literally or symbolically, you can feel why the place is sacred to them.

When all of us were done, we proceeded to our next destination: the Calvary. The path was unkind. There were times we had to hold each other's hands for support to transfer from one boulder to another. One of us even lost his shoe soles, which we only realized when we reached the top. There were three crosses, nothing else. Devotees lit candles as we rested.  

After fifteen minutes, we began our journey back, taking a different route that allowed us to see other sacred sites. We passed a natural rock formation that looked like a big, open book. To the inhabitants and believers, it is not just any rock formation. They consider it the holy Book of Life. It is said that anyone who writes his name on it will be counted as a resident of heaven in the afterlife.

Further on, we came to a place where devotees were kneeling in prayer. Before them was a rock whose surface appeared sculpted. At first, I could not figure out what it was. I looked intently and was surprised to realize there was a face on that stone. People said it was the face of Jesus Christ.

We went farther and reached Sta. Lucia Spring. Here we found the twin falls and a pool whose water was crystal clear yet smelled of sulfur. We had to go down a man-made staircase of two hundred seventy-six steps to get to the pool. The waist-deep water was so clear we could see the bottom. There were people fetching water from the falls because it is believed that water from there can cure diseases. We bathed and felt the cold water seeping through our skin. It was so natural and refreshing.

Time flew so fast that it did not allow us to stay longer in that relaxing spot. Going down the stairs had been easy, but getting up was different. We were all gasping when we reached the topmost step.

Then we walked through the outskirts of the community and took a bus back to Manila.

As we left, a realization came to me. Had I ignored the invitation to travel, I would not have seen the place, met very hospitable individuals, and had a glimpse of a unique indigenous culture. I may not share all of their beliefs, but I deeply respect the faith that gives their lives meaning and keeps Mt. Banahaw sacred.

Looking back, I am deeply thankful for my Mt. Banahaw experience. More than the physical challenge of the trek and the thrill of squeezing through the darkness of the Judgment Cave, it gave me a glimpse into a community that has chosen to hold on to its faith despite the fast pace of modernization. In a world where everything is changing, it was humbling to see people living a simple, peaceful life grounded in what they believe in — in the sacredness of a cave, a stone, and a spring. That journey taught me that progress does not always mean letting go of tradition; sometimes, true peace comes from keeping it alive.