Only the Essentials: Lessons from My Mount Apo Hike

Many things are good, many are important, but only a few are essential.”

— D. Todd Christofferson

Hey there! So, after taking a break from blogging for a while, I’m back—thanks to a random post I saw in a mountaineering group on Facebook. A fellow mountaineer was venting about how an airline lost his luggage on a trip to Iloilo. His bag had all his hiking gear, and it didn’t show up in time. I felt his pain because, well, I’ve been there.

Let me take you back to December 2022. I was about to tick off a major bucket list item: a year-end hike up Mount Apo, the highest peak in the Philippines. And to make things even more special, I was doing it with my travel buddy, Kat, who was celebrating her birthday on December 29th. But like all good adventures, mine came with a twist—or more like a “Where the heck is my bag?!” moment.

The Big Plan

First, a little background: this wasn’t just some spur-of-the-moment trip. I spent almost three months getting ready for this hike. I booked a tour with Take Five Outdoors, which has been my go-to for reliable and epic trips (Use my code TakeFive_TENG100 and enjoy a P100 discount when you book via the app). I trained, I researched, and I packed like my life depended on it—because, honestly, it kinda did.

Mount Apo wasn’t just another hike; it was the hike. It was a dream, and I had brand new gear ready to be christened by that glorious peak. I’m talking about a tent that had never seen action on a mountain like Apo, shiny new tumblers, a food jar, sleeping bag, pads, pillow—you name it, I had it. After months of online window shopping, I finally pulled the trigger and bought all the gear I’d been drooling over. Everything was packed and ready for this monumental adventure.

To save on baggage fees (because who doesn’t love saving a few bucks?), Kat didn’t check in a bag. I stuffed some of her stuff into mine, which made that single bag even more critical to our trip. But, you guessed it, the universe had other plans.

Where’s My Bag?!

I touched down in Davao, and I was all pumped, ready to grab my gear and get this hike started. But as the minutes ticked by, my excitement started to fade. The conveyor belt kept spinning, and no bag. Nada. Zip. Gone. My heart sank faster than my phone battery after a Netflix binge.

All my camping and hiking gear—tents, sleeping bags, clothes, food, first aid kits, and even my precious sunscreen—were in that bag. What did I have left? Just my hand-carry essentials: a phone, camera, wallet, power bank, and an extra pair of clothes. I mean, great for a weekend in the city, but not exactly ideal for conquering a mountain.

So there I was, staring at Kat with that “What now?” look. Do I go ahead with the hike and hope for the best, or do I call it off and wait for the bag to show up? It was one of those moments where you question all your life choices.

Too Much or Just Enough?

I’ll be honest—months of prep had me feeling like I was ready for anything. But reality check: no gear, no hike, right? Well, not exactly.

I could’ve postponed everything, waited for the airline to get its act together, and tried again later. But deep down, I knew that wasn’t an option. December 28th to 30th was my window, the end of the year, a time to reflect, reset, and, in Kat’s case, celebrate another year around the sun. So, I said, “Screw it, let’s do this,” and decided to hike with whatever I had—because sometimes, life throws you a curveball, and you just gotta swing.

The Hike: Rolling with the Punches

So, there I was, starting my climb up Mount Apo with basically nothing. The clothes in my hand-carry became my hiking gear, and I had to borrow stuff from other hikers and guides from Take Five Outdoors. But here’s where it gets good—I wasn’t alone. I was surrounded by what I can only describe as “mountain angels.” These were fellow hikers and local guides who shared their gear, food, and a whole lot of moral support to help me survive the hike.

Honestly, the climb tested me in every way. Physically, mentally, emotionally—you name it. But there was something freeing about not being weighed down by a ton of gear. It forced me to rely on my wits, my resourcefulness, and the kindness of strangers. Each step reminded me that I didn’t need as much as I thought I did.

When we finally made it back to the trail head, I broke into tears. It wasn’t just the exhaustion—it was pure relief. Relief that I was alive, that I had survived despite not having what I thought were the essentials. It hit me hard that while it’s important to be prepared and plan ahead, when push comes to shove, you have to make do with what you have. And sometimes, that little bit you have—along with the help of good people—is more than enough.

What Really Matters?

During that hike, the essentials became crystal clear to me. Sure, the tent, mess kit, and all the gear I had carefully chosen were important—there’s no denying that having the right tools can make or break an adventure. But when those tools were suddenly out of reach, I realized that the real essentials went beyond the gear. It was my determination to keep going, my ability to adapt to the situation, and the support I received from those around me that got me through. I thought I had nothing, but with a little faith, God provided exactly what I needed. The true essentials are what I carry inside—my grit, resilience, and the understanding that I’m capable of more than I often give myself credit for.

When I finally descended Mount Apo, exhausted but exhilarated, I knew that I’d conquered the hike not because of the gear I had, but because of the mindset I embraced. The mountain stripped away all the excess, leaving me with only the essentials—both in my pack and in my heart.

Wrapping It Up: What Does Being Prepared Really Mean?

In life, just like in hiking, we often over-prepare, packing all the “just in case” stuff until we’re weighed down. But sometimes, the essentials are simpler than we think. The Mount Apo experience taught me that while preparation is key, so is the ability to let go, trust in myself, and embrace the journey, curveballs and all. And when it feels like you have nothing, remember that you have more than you realize. There’s always something to be grateful for, and somehow, God provides.

So next time you’re gearing up for a hike—or just dealing with life—ask yourself: What are the true essentials? What can you let go of? And what will you carry with you, no matter what? You might be surprised at how much lighter your load can be.