Nasugbu Loop via Kaybiang Tunnel
It is currently April 18, 2026, as I write this. I’m back-dating this post because I realized we are exactly on the anniversary of one of the most punishing—yet formative—rides of my life.
Back on April 21, 2018, I was young, stubborn, and admittedly, not "physically fit" for the road. Looking at the photos, the extra weight is obvious, and my naivety even more so. I had no idea what kind of elevations were waiting for me. Back then, "planning" wasn't in my vocabulary. We didn’t have target destinations or strict timelines; we just rode. If something looked fun, we stopped. If there was a road, we took it.
The Icon: Kaybiang Tunnel
Our main goal was the legendary Kaybiang Tunnel. At the time, it was still relatively new (it only opened in 2013). At 300 meters long, it’s the longest road tunnel in the Philippines, boring right through the base of Mt. Palay-Palay (Mt. Pico de Loro).
Riding through it felt like entering another world. One moment you're in the lush greens of Ternate, Cavite, and the next, you emerge into a stunning view of the West Philippine Sea with the islands of Limbones and Carabao on the horizon. For a young, tired cyclist, that view was the ultimate reward.
A Mid-Ride Reset at Sandy Lum Beach
After conquering the tunnel, we descended into Nasugbu to find Sandy Lum Beach Resort in Brgy. Calayo.
If you’ve ever been to Calayo, you know the sand isn't white, but the water is clear and the vibe is incredibly "probinsya" and laid back. We had a swim to wash off the road grime and salt. It was exactly what we needed, but looking back, the relaxation made my muscles "lock up" for the nightmare that was about to follow.
The 32-Hour Odyssey
The climb from Nasugbu toward Tagaytay was where reality hit. On paper, the gradients weren't even that steep, but my body was done. My energy was completely depleted.
What should have been a standard return trip turned into a staggering 32-hour saga. Because I was so exhausted, our pace slowed to a crawl. Every few kilometers, we had to stop just to keep from collapsing. One hour of riding turned into two hours of resting at whatever roadside sari-sari store would have us. The clock just kept ticking as we struggled through the night and into the next day.
I vividly remember telling myself through gritted teeth: "I am never, ever doing this again."
Raw Memories
I didn't have an action cam back then—just a basic cellphone and a lot of grit. The footage is shaky and the photos are raw, but they capture the sheer exhaustion and the "unfiltered" spirit of that trip.
Check out the clips and photos below from the time I survived 32 hours on two wheels.
Here are some video clips that i have stitched altogether
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