Confession time: I’ve lived all my life in La Trinidad (give or take a couple of years), and I never even knew there are waterfalls located within a 6-kilometer radius. Like, it takes less than half an hour to get there. And here I thought my level of awareness was relatively, well, respectable. But still, it’s good to be surprised at times, and this is one type of surprise I wouldn’t mind getting.
To date, there are a couple of waterfalls “identified” in barangay Shilan, right here in the capital town La Trinidad where I live: Payogpog Falls and Binanga Falls. I wouldn’t be surprised if, one of these days, word of a few more waterfalls in the area comes out, because the probability is definitely there.
I would never have known about it had my bestie Sheryll, who came home for a month-long vacation from Dubai, told me about it, and how she wants us to check them out. So we looked into a couple of blogs documenting visits to both bodies of water and, waterfall-sucker that I am, I thought, “why the heck not?!” I mean, they are right on our doorstep!
The Best-laid Plans….
Then came Saturday, the day we were meant to go there….
…and it was a gloomy morning. So gloomy, in fact, that the sky looked like it’s going to cry any minute.
Accuweather was not reassuring, either, saying it’s definitely going to rain that day, but close to midday, with mild showers in between.
She and I agreed that she’ll pick me up from home at 8:30. At 8:00, it suddenly started to pour. My spirits were sinking fast. And hard.
She came and we just sat there, not knowing what to do, because we didn’t have any plan B, and any Plan B, had we come up with one, would have entailed going out. Into the rain.
So we watched the rain fall… then peter out, then coming down again, then slowing down… it was a cycle, an endless one.
Then we decided, since it’s a waterfall, where we’re bound to get wet anyway, why don’t we just go to at least one of the two? Yes, even if there was a mild to strong shower going on outside in intervals.
At 10:30 am, we got out of the house, waited for a jeep plying the Baguio-Acop route, and asked to be dropped in front of the Shilan Barangay Hall, so we could check in, and make inquiries as well.
Unfortunately, the Barangay Hall was closed. But the lone guy manning the adjacent police station was there to provide information.
At first, he was hesitant to give it out, because he said it’s going to be dangerous. Since it was raining, the hike may be challenging. We said we’re going for Binanga Falls, since it’s the closest one, and does not entail much of a hike. Still, he said that the rain could mean there would be too much water at the waterfall and the current may be too strong.
We were persistent, though, and still got the info we needed.
How to Get there
From the Shilan Barangay Hall, we made that short walk, following the national highway, to the entrance to Sagpawe Provincial Road, right beside the gates of Tacdian Elementary School.
There, several vehicles providing garage services are waiting to ferry passengers.
For Php100, one way, we took that less than 10-minute ride to the jump-off point to Binanga Falls. Just let the driver know you’re going to Binanga Falls, and they’ll know where to take you.
The driver did not even bat an eyelash when we said we were going to Binanga, despite the weather. At that time, the rain had stopped, and there was only a very mild shower, barely there, but all signs point to a downpour coming on any minute.
The “jump-off point” is unremarkable, to say the least. There were no large signs or markers, not even a distinct gate or indictor of a path. Just… this small tarp hanging by a stick, with the words “This way to Binanga Falls” crudely written in black ink.
It made me smile. Looks like commercialism has not reached this place. Yet.
By the way, just in case, we took the number of the garage operator services for when we need to be fetched later on when we decide to get back. Just in case.
Slippery AND wet
When we alit from the car, larger droplets started to fall. We zipped up our semi-waterproof jackets, hoods up, protected our bags, and started to navigate our way down a small opening on the side of the road…
…to a narrow downward path that has already turned muddy by the rain.
Which meant it was slippery as all get out.
Oh and in case you try to hold on to something, there’s the possibility of getting yourself cut by the sharp blades of grass.
I know. I still have a couple of the thin cuts on my palms to prove it.
So what do you do if you’re trying NOT to slip and slide down on your behind? Take slow, sure steps. Look on the bright side: the slow pace gives you an excuse to look up, look around, and take in the view.
After several minutes of being in the thick of foliage and undergrowth, you’ll surface to an area that is clearly cultivated by the residents of the place. From what we saw, they planted different types of vegetables and wildflowers in the area, but it was clear the harvest period just ended, so the plots were relatively empty.
It wasn’t all that difficult to find your way. There was only one trail, or what looked like it, at least. Do you need a guide? If you have the poorest sense of direction, probably. But generally, you can navigate your way. Anyway, if you get lost, there’s only so much area you’d wander around in, you can probably find your way back where you used to be several minutes ago.
And that is how, twenty minutes after starting the hike, we arrived at the river. Or a part of it, at least, that indicated we have arrived. We already heard the sound of laughter from a group of 4 young women frolicking in the water. Clearly, we weren’t alone in our “why the heck not” mentality.
It took us 20 minutes. If not for the slippery trail, it could have taken at least 10.
There’s Sheryll trying to figure out how to get to the river below in one piece. Hours later, we realized we could have just “crawled” our way down the rocks, but from up here, it looked slippery and precarious, so we looked for another way down.
Plus, one of the ladies in the river below pointed out that we should take another way round.
And that way is actually even more slippery and precarious. Granted, it was shorter, but dang… that is no trail, I be tellin ya. No handholds, no footholds… just pure luck, haha!
Look at this, this side of the rock. Slide down, jump down… it would definitely be helpful if it had a rope to hold on to. Hopefully there’d be one in the future.
Ooh, and there’s a glimpse of Binanga Falls!
Hello, Binanga
Looking at her, it’s quite amazing to think that we were still in La Trinidad.
Granted, La Trinidad covers a large area, and my knowledge really is limited to the central, more commercialized (hence, populated) areas. But yeah, Shilan still definitely gives off that rural vibes that I love when travelling in other parts of Benguet.
Several minutes after we have arrived, the rain began to pour in earnest. As in, POUR.
We waited it out, but we were already getting soaked wet by the rain even as we tried to take shelter under the trees (which weren’t a lot of help, really). When the rainfall stopped pelting and became tolerable, we approached the waterfall.
True enough, the water level is high. And the current is also strong. Even from afar, it was apparent that the basin is quite deep; even the ladies who were there before us said so.
We were fools, but not foolhardy enough to attempt to jump in.
Apparently, Binanga Falls got its name from the shape of the basin. “Binanga” came from the root word “banga”, which means “earthen pot” or “clay pot”.
Fortunately, the rocks around the waterfall allowed for some clambering, so you can get a good spot to view it.
Judging from the presence of the rubber hoses in the area, it is clear that the river system Binanga is part of is a major water source for the agricultural land around the area. It is the water supply for the farmers tilling the land.
Incidentally, the other waterfall, Payogpog Falls, is part of the same river system.
Now for the downside: since this place is not yet “accredited”, it’s not officially considered a tourism spot just yet. So maintenance is not really high on its agenda.
Get this: there are no fees to be paid to get here (except for the fare), so no environmental fees to speak of. There are no guides, either, and when you arrive there, there are no “lifeguards”.
And then there are no warning signs to keep the gungho and daredevil ones from doing anything stupid. Hopefully, that changes in the future.
As the rain let up, the water then started to turn brown. Looks like all the river sand, soil and silt from upriver have been stirred by the rain and water current, turning the water brown.
Not exactly the water color you’d want to play around in, haha!
So we took several more photos, ate the snacks we brought, then decided to say bye to Binanga, at least for now.
The climb up was just as slow but sure, because it was even more slippery. But when we arrived at the road, the rain is completely gone.
We decided to walk it off, instead of calling for another garage service. It was an excuse to get some hiking done, since I’ve gone way too long without one. And also to dry our clothes, because we’re still quite soaked from the rain, and submerging ourselves in the water.
And lo and behold, the sun just decided to come out in her glory. It made quite a sight for the fields that we passed on our way back to the main highway.
But it did not last long because, an hour later, it started to pour once again, and didn’t stop until that evening. But for now, enjoy these bright photos.
I definitely won’t say no to going back to Binanga Falls and, this time, hit Payogpog Falls too. I think, with the weather cooperating, both waterfalls could be hit in a day.
If you’re planning to do the same, do yourself a favor: make things easier by coordinating with the Barangay Hall first. We would’ve, had it been open when we were there. But we’d definitely do that the next time around.
Leave a Reply