Into the Wilderness: Conquering Cebu’s Spartan Trail

At last, I finally get to share one of the trails I conquered earlier this year. I’m still in disbelief that I did it, and now I’m writing about it. I’ve hiked a few mountains and trails, but this has been the longest, most challenging, and thrilling adventure yet. Imagine me trudging through a six-freaking-hour hike just for fun. Brutal.

I originally planned to chronologically post my travels and adventures on the blog, but procrastination always wins when it comes to organizing files. So, for now, I’m sharing whatever I’ve managed to sort out. Still, flipping through these photos, it feels like I’m reliving the adventure all over again.

After our first hike to the popular city hiking spot, Starbuks, my colleagues were eager for another adventure. We initially planned to hike Amordino for our second activity, gradually increasing the distance of our hikes, especially since we were all newbies. But my colleagues loved the thrill and excitement way too much, and they wanted to take on one of the city’s longest and most challenging routes—the Spartan Trail.

This trail has been on my bucket list since I started my hiking journey a year ago. But as someone who’s admittedly afraid of the unknown, I never pushed through with it. There were attempts, but life happened, and it remained just an entry in my journal.

That is, until my crazy colleagues started debating which trail we should take. As the organizer, I felt bad that we had planned it as a group, yet now we would end up splitting up halfway—some taking the easier Amordino trail, others braving the unknown wilderness of Spartan.

It wasn’t an easy decision, especially for me, even though I had planned the hike. Venturing into an unfamiliar place, away from civilization (okay, that’s a bit dramatic), with no guide and no idea how long it would take—or what we might encounter—was terrifying.

Fortunately, one of my colleagues overheard our conversation and mentioned that he had hiked the trail before. Although he didn’t remember much of it, he was eager to join us. So, naturally, we trusted him to guide us. But the funny thing is, he ended up saying that he trusted me to lead the group instead.

And honestly, what the freak—you're asking me to guide all of you to a place I’ve never been before? Hahaha, very helpful indeed!

Still, I have to admit, that lifted a chunk of my worries. After debating with myself, I finally said yes just a few days before our hike. I surrendered my fears and accepted the challenge because I didn’t want to miss this opportunity, and I wasn’t sure when I’d get the chance again. Since the majority of us chose Spartan, we all decided to conquer the trail together. I guess Amordino will have to wait for next time.

On the second week of February, we finally decided to go through with our plan. Since we had no idea how long it would take to complete the trail, we agreed to meet at our usually spot in McDonald’s Banawa at 4 AM to get an early start.

Before we could begin our ascent, we had to pass through a private, gated community. Since it was still closed at that hour, we took an alternate route into the subdivision. The darkness and silence of dawn engulfed us. Despite the early hour, we encountered plenty of eager hikers also making their way up.

Unlike our first hike, it took us less than an hour to reach our first stop.

When we arrived at Starbuks, we were surprised at how easy and chill it was, despite only having our phones to light the way. If you’ve been there, you know it’s not exactly an easy trek—especially when ascending a cliff.

Even though we weren’t exhausted, we still took a short break to catch our breath and replenish our energy with their mouth-watering food and snacks. As always, Starbuks was jam-packed with novices eager to experience their first hike and seasoned hikers making a quick stop before continuing their journey.

I’ve been here a couple of times, and I’m still in awe of how mesmerizing the sunrise looks as it casts a golden glow over the city.

After a quick rest, we geared up for our next stop.

A few meters—or kilometers… haha, not really sure how far—it was to Bar Crumbs, one of the famous stops along the trail. Just like Starbuks, Bar Crumbs has a resting area and a sari-sari store, but it’s less crowded. Usually, the people who stop here either want to avoid the crowd at Starbuks or are preparing for a longer hike.

There’s another trail leading directly to Bar Crumbs, separate from the Starbuks route, but I haven’t tried it yet. I’ve heard it’s quite difficult.

This was my second time at Bar Crumbs—the first was during our Amordino hike last year—so I felt confident leading the group from Starbuks to this spot. I walked ahead, carefully navigating the trail to ensure I wasn’t leading everyone astray while they followed behind.

Apparently, I was moving too fast and completely missed the start of the fun. Someone (Hi, Ate Mi! Haha) slipped during a short descent, sending the guys into full rescue mode. And yes, the whole thing was caught in 4K. As true friends, we couldn’t help but laugh about it—and we still do to this day.

We also encountered a group of hikers on their way to conquer Spartan, who generously helped us take a group photo. We struck an obligatory pose with the trail sign, then quickly continued on—we didn’t want to delay any further, especially since, at this point, we had no idea what lay ahead.

We continued our walk, descending toward the crossroad where we had to choose between two trails—the right side leading to Amordino and the left side to Spartan Trail.

It was funny that now, standing at the decision point, we paused to ask ourselves one last time which path we should take—while we still had a choice. But we were all determined, and without hesitation, we continued left. Beyond this point, there was no turning back as we ventured deeper into the wilderness.

At first, the journey felt manageable since we encountered groups who pointed us in the right direction. But once we were on our own, we had to rely on our instincts—and those little yellow and red ribbons serving as markers. The problem was, we had no idea if we were interpreting them correctly. Hahaha.

I guess we did a good job since we arrived at our third stop. At first, we were overly confident—we had a clear pathway, so we thought there was no way we’d get lost, despite the narrow trail.

Then it hit me—I turned to the group and asked, ‘Are we walking in a dried-up riverbed?’ Cue the low-key panic. My brain instantly filled with worst-case scenarios I was desperately trying not to overthink.

Emman, my colleague who had supposedly been here before—but didn’t remember much of the trail—had somehow forgotten to mention that we would be walking directly through a river. Mind you, I knew there would be waterfalls somewhere along the hike, but a whole river? This size?

Fortunately, it was dried up because Emman had once again forgotten to mention that when he first hiked here, the water was knee-deep, meaning we would’ve been soaked—who knows how deep. I wouldn’t have minded the experience, but as an overthinker, my brain immediately pictured the worst.

Despite that moment of doubt, we wanted to appreciate our surroundings. We took a breather, snapped some photos, and then continued forward—into the unknown.

We kept walking—for who knows how long—along the dried-up river, passing the time with little chitchats and, of course, a few mishaps.

Let’s just say someone (Hi, Airies! Hahaha) didn’t even make it halfway through the hike before ripping her pants. Later, while crossing a concrete flood control, she took the shortest jump ever—landing straight on her knees. And yes, the whole thing was caught in 4K again. Good thing I had extra leggings, so we avoided any further wardrobe malfunctions and carried on.

We were excited to see water flowing and puddles along the trail, a sure sign that we were nearing our fourth stop—the waterfalls—where we planned to soak for a few minutes before heading back to the city.

Unfortunately, the early signs of low water levels in the river proved to be right. The falls had almost dried up. There were a few spots where we could take a dip, but the groups who arrived earlier had already claimed them, so we settled for simply enjoying the view.

After a quick breather and a round of photos, we decided to continue our journey back to civilization. It sounded easy enough, but let me tell you—the real struggle was just about to begin. The journey from McDonald’s to the falls had been a piece of cake compared to what came next.

Just when I thought the worst was over, I found myself flipping off the universe and letting every curse word slip out of my mouth. Like, what do you mean I have to climb an entire mountain to get back?

At first, we laughed it off—even though our feet and knees were already aching, at least there were trees to hold on to. But midway through, things took a turn for the worse. There weren’t many trees left to grab onto, barely any shade to escape the heat, and no clear path while we ascended with the risk of tumbling down the hill. It was brutal—the climb felt endless. Even Airies had a panic attack when she accidentally looked down. I wanted to cry too because one wrong move could be fatal, and it wasn’t exactly easy for friends to rush down and help.

After a while, we finally heard motorcycles—or habal-habal, the common local transport. But we were far from the reality of reaching the top. We had to make multiple stops just to catch our breath and find shade wherever we could. Along the way, we even met a few trail runners and hikers, stopping to chat with them. I couldn’t help but be amazed at how they managed. For them, Spartan was just another checkpoint—they were actually headed to a trail much, much farther.

After what felt like an endless, scorching, and exhausting hike, we finally made it back to civilization—where concrete roads, cold water, and transportation felt like the greatest luxuries. The relief was instant, and without hesitation, we all agreed: we’re not coming back here anytime soon. If we ever take on something like this again, it’s going to be in a completely different place, offering a fresh challenge and a new experience.

But honestly, I’m glad I took on this hike. It pushed me beyond my limits, and instead of swearing off brutal trails, I find myself craving more. My motivation? Conquering the highest mountain in the Philippines—or maybe even the world.

Right now, as I write this, the rainy season is about to begin, and I’m not sure how many hikes we’ll manage in the coming months. Trails will get muddier, rivers will swell, and unpredictable weather will add an extra challenge. But whenever the next adventure calls, I’ll be ready—hiking shoes laced, backpack loaded, and spirit steady, prepared to take on whatever rugged path or slippery trail lies ahead.

And of course, I won’t forget to take you with me in my future write-ups here—so stay tuned for more adventures ahead!