We hadn't had a bath yet, Dennis and I. This did not bother me because a) I could go for days without bathing, b) we'd spent the night in Osmeña Peak, under a kailedoscopic roof of stars, and c) in a few more hours, we're sure getting cleaned would no longer be an issue.

What we're about to do next... Well, staying dry was not an option.

We climbed unto the same habal-habal we took to get to Osmeña Peak. We'd made arrangements with the driver to pick us up and take us to Badian.

The ride to our next destination was neither quick nor boring. Flanking the road that we wended were mostly picturesque medleys of greens, blues, and early sunlight. The sky, a peaceful cerulean, unfolding behind the last shreds of cirrocumuli.

The habal-habal ride was neither quick nor boring.

It was around eight when we arrived at the Sangi Crossroad in Badian. Here we met our guide before going to his house where we were instructed of the do's and don'ts of the activity. After gearing up, with our bulky bags back at our guide's house, we hopped on a motorcycle and rode for some 3 kilometers to Barangay Compostela in Alegria.

At the starting line of the four-hour trek.

My four-hour experience of what is now dubbed as "canyoneering" began in Sitio Kangmamhot, from what I estimated as a 40-foot drop to an aquamarine rivulet. This was a less common albeit more thrilling takeoff according to our guide. Several steps to our right, a group of adventure seekers were taking turns at the usual start – jumping 20 feet down into the river.

The forty-foot drop that marked the beginning of the canyoneering experience.

I had the first turn. And it took me quite a while to make the move. There was fear, of course, but there was also the overwhelming sense of wanting to go over the edge. After several moments of internal struggle, I stepped off the overhang, into the scream-sapping interlude down to the cold, cold water.

This is Dennis' forty-foot jump. Mine is not as nice-looking as this one.

And just like that, our problem was solved. Bathing dilemma taken care off! But we still had four more hours before we get to change our clothes.

We proceeded and found out for ourselves that the trek consisted of cliff-diving, swimming through and under rock openings, a bit of wall-climbing, and crawling through and scaling huge boulders.

Off of a true-blue water slide

Makeshift bamboo bridges are present over some parts where the current is too strong

Jumping off a ten-foot boulder

Going against the current is a tough thing to do

We glided, we dived and we hugged rock faces. We went over slippery moss-covered boulders, following the course of the turquoise river cutting through solid stone as high as walls at one bend. We sustained bruises and pulled a muscle or two. At some point, I almost got swept by the surging currents and would have probably drowned if not for the GoPro pole I was clutching.

Still smiling even at the prospect of death by adventure

The experience was exhilarating, needless to say. The scenery was enchanting. The only sounds were the gurgling of the river, the rustle of thick canopies up high, and the occasional splash of a cannonballing "canyoneer."

Rock-strewn river with water as clear and as blue as the sky

Stonewalls as high as city skycrapers

The turquoise river cutting through solid rocks

All drenched but having the best time ever.

I felt like a character from Tolkien's world, venturing into faraway lands, on a quest to defeat some growing evil – complete with take-home scars that could tell the tale better than any words. This thought, which I kept in mind all throughout the four-hour adventure, made the whole experience even more fun than it already was.

The last part of the experience takes you to Kawasan Falls. I don't have a decent picture of it so here's an equally stunning picture of the liquid turquoise water.

To have your own Canyoneering experience, contact Kuya Ronald at +639059682225