The country’s archipelagic nature allows climbers to enjoy diverse rock formations from different regions, making each crag a unique adventure. While it is recognized as an extreme sport, local rock climbing is kept alive by a community eager to promote the activity and grow their collective. Mackie Makinano, one of the pioneering outdoor climbing developers, humbly shares that despite having a smaller community than those in Europe and America, the continuous development of the country’s crags thrives through local efforts.
But behind this distinctive climbing scene, what ignites the flame within the community to push the boundaries of Philippine rock climbing? Here, climbers explore and define what it means to ascend and pass through the challenges and routes that local crags offer.
High up above and down below
Outdoor rock climbing is done by ascending the wall and clipping quickdraws on a bolted route. These quickdraws act as safety links for climbers to fasten their ropes as they make their way up. The number of bolts varies depending on the length of the route and how high up a climber can finish—or “send,” in climbing terms—a route when they reach the anchors, which signifies the end of the climb.
Climbers challenge themselves by taking on different grades, which indicate the difficulty of a climb. They often commit to a “project” by trying to finish it either in one or multiple sessions. Despite its challenging nature, seasoned outdoor climber Dane Policarpio believes that there’s no pressure to perform in this sport. “It’s very corny to say that you’re only competing with yourself [but] it’s true in rock climbing—your progress is against your past.”
The emphasis on personal growth over competition resonated with Andrea Costelo (AB-ISE, ‘19) when she started. Initially excited, Costelo recounts how fear set in when she actually began climbing, but the welcoming community made all the difference, “I never felt like people were judging me…people were willing to give me advice.”
Still, this journey is not without challenges; Costelo shares that climbers sometimes feel stagnant in their climbing progress. The cycle of intense climbing followed by periods of hiatus due to work and other commitments could lead to a loss of finesse upon their return.
Despite the setbacks, Policarpio firmly believes that a profound love for the craft is the key to persistence. He emphasizes that rock climbing doesn’t simply entail physical strength, but also the initiative and zeal to show up every day and push one’s limits.
Two sides of the mountain
Some climbers train indoors in climbing gyms such as Power Up, Climb Central Manila, and The Bouldering Hive, while others use the actual crags in Benguet, Laguindingan, Cantabaco, and Albay as their training playgrounds. However, communities in other provinces outside Luzon have recently established their own climbing gyms.
Makinano holds yearly Rock Fests in crags such as Kiokong, Igbaras, and other newly opened areas where climbers from all over the Philippines gather to celebrate and explore new routes. This greatly boosted the popularity of climbing destinations. “In Bukidnon, there [was] no rock climbing community back then. But because of the Rock Fests, locals [were] getting involved,” Policarpio highlights, emphasizing the importance of such events to expand the community. “Parang grand opening [ang Rock Fests] para sa crags. Tapos every year, ‘yung community doon sa crag na ‘yun, kapag gusto nilang ituloy ‘yung tradition, itutuloy talaga nila.”
(Rock Fests serve as the grand opening for crags and every year, communities residing near those crags would want to continue the tradition of hosting it.)
As climbers venture into new landscapes, they inadvertently become ambassadors for the preservation of these pristine rock faces. “There are people who are willing to help develop different crags or different climbing areas within the Philippines,” beams Costelo. The sport has become a key contributor to tourism, providing adventurers with an unprecedented opportunity to interact with local people and enjoy the country’s natural marvels. Costelo adds, “What’s interesting is that these people don’t get paid, so they do this out of their love for the community.”
However, others may not realize that maintaining outdoor climbing sites in the Philippines requires careful consideration. Makinano, as head of the Philippine Bolting Team, explains that they have to assess the rock’s quality, stability, safety, and features before creating a line for climbing. The expenses for travel and equipment also impose a financial burden. Though the Philippine Bolting Fund provides monetary support to the team, long-term maintenance of the crags would require government support.
On greater heights
In the face of financial constraints and other hurdles, Makinano and his team persevere in developing crag areas because of one simple reason: “You’re one with nature,” Makinano explains. For them, respect for the environment propels the passion to make the experience accessible to others. More than just a hobby and a sport, it is about fostering an appreciation for nature while contributing to its conservation.
For Policarpio, a more personal narrative is conveyed. Climbing represents more than just a physical challenge; it is a gateway to a community that instills values he carries for life. He imparts, “Climbing is 90 percent falling.” Each climb is an introspective journey of patience, resilience, and growth.
Past the rush of adrenaline, these outdoor rock climbers find their true anchor points in the country’s distinctive landscapes and the communities that sustain them. For them, to be a climber is not simply to conquer new heights, but to nurture a lifelong passion for the craft and the world it connects you to.
This article was published in The LaSallian‘s January 2025 issue. To read more, visit bit.ly/TLSJanuary2025.
