18 Jun 2025 5 min read Travel

March 22, 2025: The Day I Met Myself on a Mountain

I wasn’t supposed to hike that day.

March 22 was just another blank square Saturday in my calendar — unplanned, unproductive, uneventful. But something in me, maybe quiet burnout or just the need to breathe somewhere that didn’t smell like deadlines — told me to get up and go.

I’d been wanting to visit Flat Rocks for weeks. I kept asking friends to come with me, but everyone was either busy, tired, or “next week na lang.”, or "busy ako, next time nalang". So that morning, I decided: What if I just went? Alone?

No fanfare. No plan. Just me, my shoes, and whatever energy I had left.

This is the start of the ascent, entering the Mount Makiling Trail.

Flat Rocks

Once I started the trail to Flat Rocks, I felt the shift. The trees were alive, moving with me. Every step was quieter than the last, and weirdly, so was my mind.

When I reached Flat Rocks, the space opened up before me, flat, wide, sunlit stones beside a shallow stream. I sat down, let the silence settle in, and took a few pictures.

A quiet stream flowing through mossy boulders, surrounded by the lush forest of Mount Makiling.

Some of the pictures made it to my Instagram, others I kept just for myself and some are included in this post. That kind of stillness isn’t always easy to photograph. You have to feel it.

Flat Rocks is a scenic area along the Molawin River trail in the Makiling Forest Reserve. It features broad, naturally exposed flat stone formations where cool water runs over smooth, mossy rock surfaces. These flat rocks are resting spot for hikers and are often used for picnics or nature appreciation.

The area is easily accessible from the UPLB side of Mount Makiling and is one of the first major stops along the trail before the more challenging uphill climbs.

Surrounded by dense forest, it gives a peaceful escape from campus life and is commonly visited by students, tourists, and locals alike.

This is me, standing on a boulder (LOL).

Now here’s the part I didn’t plan: I kept going.

I told myself I’d stop at Flat Rocks and go home. That was the “goal.” But something in me wanted more.

Maybe it was the quiet.

Maybe it was momentum.

Maybe I didn’t want to go home yet.

Mud Springs

So I kept trekking — toward Mud Springs.

On the way, I met Kuya (let's just call them that), who was selling fresh buko juice on the side of the trail. I stopped for a while, drank from the coconut, and exchanged small talk with him. It was one of those random, grounding moments that made solo travel feel less lonely.

Like the universe checked in with, “You good?” and handed me hydration.

Fresh buko juice scenic shop ascending to Mud Spring.

And then, uphill again. The climb to Mud Springs was tougher. The air was warmer. The ground even steamed.

AirPods in, Taylor Swift on repeat — because honestly, walking alone in silence felt a little too boring at first. No Spotify shuffles, no buzzing messages, no second voice whispering that I should be doing something more “productive.”

Just me, my playlist, and a trail that slowly started making sense the longer I walked it.

Mud Spring releases warm geothermal steam into the forest air to create an almost mystical atmosphere surrounded by dense tropical foliage.

Mud Spring, also known as the “The Crater” by locals, is believed to be the fumarolic vent of an extinct volcano — what’s left of Mount Makiling’s old volcanic activity. It’s a hot, bubbling, sulfuric spring surrounded by lush vegetation.

Though it’s not a summit, reaching Mud Spring involves a steeper hike with clear elevation gain and more rugged trail sections. The water temperature can reach high as 70–90°C, so it’s only for viewing, not bathing. A fence now guards the site for safety.

This place is both scientifically significant (geothermal researchers have studied it) and culturally iconic, as it appears in many UPLB stories and nature hikes. Local legends even associate it with the mythical Maria Makiling, the guardian spirit of the mountain.

I never intended to go that far. I wasn’t even sure I could. But being solo gave me space to move at my own pace — to stop, rest, or keep going without asking anyone. And somewhere along that trail, I realized:

I’ve been waiting for company to start living parts of my life.

But that day, I gave myself permission.

I went out looking for Flat Rocks.

But I found something else: silence, steadiness, and the version of myself that doesn’t need company to feel complete.

UPLB has always been beautiful, but that day, it felt like it was mine.

And for once, I wasn’t rushing through it. I was right there, step by step, learning that solitude isn’t loneliness.

It’s presence.

And peace.