How I Planned My 22-Day Philippine Loop

How I Planned My 22-Day Philippine Loop

by Mark Arthur Casquero

The Philippine Loop did not begin when I rolled out of Cubao on January 18, 2026.

It began months earlier, as a question I was not yet sure I could answer:

Could I really ride around the Philippines by bicycle?

At that time, I had already done long-distance rides and multi-day endurance events. I had completed the North Luzon Loop 1,200km in three days and was training for London–Edinburgh–London 1,500km. Still, the Philippine Loop felt different.

Audax and long-distance events usually come with an established route, controls, organizers, and a cutoff. The Philippine Loop is much more open-ended. I would have to create the route, choose where to sleep, study the ferry schedules, find food and bike shops, manage my equipment, and decide what to do whenever the original plan stopped working.

On top of that, I wanted to document the entire journey.

So this was never going to be just a cycling challenge. I had to become the rider, navigator, mechanic, logistics planner, cameraman, and storyteller at the same time.

The idea slowly became real

In June 2025, I was training for London–Edinburgh–London and had recently completed the North Luzon Loop in three days.

People had already been telling me to try the Philippine Loop. I knew of people who had done it using their legs, including Carlo the Happy Biker and Ferdinand Dela Merced, the walking Philippine Looper. But honestly, I did not immediately feel that I had what it took.

I associated the Philippine Loop with a different kind of adventurer—someone who could disappear for weeks, carry everything on a bicycle, travel through unfamiliar provinces, sleep wherever possible, and solve problems alone along the way.

I was confident about riding long distances. What I was less sure about was managing an expedition of that scale.

On July 25, 2025, I contacted Leo Mante, a Philippine Looper, and asked for his GPX file. Leo did not ride under the official Philippine Loop Adventure Tour, so he did not need to visit all the official checkpoints, particularly places such as the Second Highest Point in Atok and Baler. Still, he shared his 24-day plan with me.

That gave me my first serious reference.

At that point, I was still discussing the idea with my wife. A ride like this required more than physical preparation. I had to be away from my family and job for several weeks, so I needed to make sure the timing was workable for everyone.

London–Edinburgh–London changed my thinking

In August 2025, I went to the United Kingdom for London–Edinburgh–London, a 1,500-kilometer endurance event.

The ride was cancelled on the second day because of severe weather. Instead of ending the trip there, we continued riding toward Edinburgh on our own for several more days.

That experience became important later.

Once the official structure disappeared, we had to adapt. We had to modify the route, find places to stay, make decisions while tired, and continue without the support system we originally expected.

That was much closer to what the Philippine Loop would demand.

It made me realize that perhaps I did not need to approach the Philippine Loop like a traditional bike tour. I could approach it as a series of ultra-distance rides connected by ferries, checkpoints, and planned recovery stops.

Learning from other Philippine Loopers

On August 27, I started asking ChatGPT about the Philippine Loop and began watching the videos of Byaheng Bike ni Mike.

The next day, I joined the Philippine Loop Adventure Tour Facebook group and requested the registration form.

By September, I was no longer just watching other people do it. I had started plotting my own route.

I contacted Mike about his route and asked about the registration process. I watched Boss Wil’s videos and studied the journeys of motorcycle riders such as I-Ride ang Pinas, GORYO (Moto Geepee), Taraki Ride and Boy Perstaym.

I was trying to answer several practical questions:

  • What route did previous riders use?
  • Which ports had reliable ferry schedules?
  • How far could I realistically ride after disembarking?
  • Which towns had accommodation?
  • Which sections were safe to ride at night?
  • Where could I find bike shops if something failed?
  • How much climbing would I face in the Cordillera and Sierra Madre?
  • How much time should I reserve for ferries and delays?

The official checkpoints heavily influenced the route.

It was not enough to simply draw a loop around the Philippines. To complete the standard Philippine Loop Adventure Tour route, I had to reach the required checkpoints, including Matnog, Subic, Alaminos, the Second Highest Point in Atok, Laoag, Aparri, and Baler.

Those checkpoints dictated the shape of the ride. Atok forced me into the Cordillera. Baler required a crossing of the Sierra Madre. The southern checkpoints and ferry crossings determined how I would move through the Visayas and Mindanao.

My first plan was only 19 days

My first complete plan was extremely aggressive.

I plotted a 19-day Philippine Loop, covering approximately 4,306 kilometers and 27,728 meters of climbing.

The schedule looked efficient on a spreadsheet.

The first section would take me from Cubao to Naga, Matnog, Samar, Leyte, Surigao, Mindanao, Dapitan, Negros, Panay, Mindoro, and back to Manila. After one buffer or maintenance day, I would head north through Subic, Alaminos, Atok, Pagudpud, Aparri, Baler, and finally return to Metro Manila.

Some days were already intimidating on paper.

The first day was 380 kilometers from Cubao to Naga. Another planned day was 326 kilometers from Cubao through Subic and Alaminos. The Atok stage was estimated at 230 kilometers with more than 4,000 meters of climbing. The Pagudpud-to-Isabela day was more than 300 kilometers.

At the time, I believed the plan was possible because I was looking at the Philippine Loop mainly as a distance problem.

If I could ride 200 to 300 kilometers a day, then the schedule should work.

The road later taught me that distance was only one part of the equation.

That 19-day plan would eventually be humbled by three things.

1. Mindanao needed another day

My initial plan pushed me through Mindanao very quickly.

But once I considered road safety, nighttime riding, the terrain, and the fact that I also wanted to properly experience and document the provinces, the schedule became too compressed.

I did not want Mindanao to become a section that I simply rushed through in darkness.

Adding another day gave me more room to manage the climbs, the long distances between towns, and the uncertainty of travelling through unfamiliar areas. It also gave me time to actually see the places I was riding through instead of treating them as dots on a map.

2. Missing the Bacolod ferry changed the Visayas schedule

My original plan assumed that I could cross from Bacolod and complete Iloilo and Panay more quickly.

But ferry schedules are not controlled by cycling speed.

I missed the ferry at Bacolod Port, which meant I could no longer complete the Iloilo section in one day. The Panay portion had to be extended to two days.

That single missed ferry changed the sequence of the ride.

It was a useful reminder that on an island route, one late arrival can affect several days afterward.

3. I underestimated the Cordillera

The biggest planning error was Northern Luzon.

On paper, Alaminos to Baguio or Atok looked difficult but manageable. I knew the distance and elevation numbers, but I underestimated how much time the Cordillera would actually consume.

Climbing in the mountains is not just slower because of gradient. There are also cold conditions, traffic, darkness, repeated steep sections, navigation, food stops, and the need to descend carefully.

A route that appears possible based on average speed can become unrealistic once the climbing begins.

That section forced me to stop earlier than planned and revise the following days.

The final result was no longer a 19-day ride. It became 21 riding days and one rest day, for a total of 22 days.

In hindsight, that one rest day in Manila was not wasted time. It became an operational reset. I backed up more than a terabyte of footage, caught up on work, washed clothes, had the bike serviced, replaced worn tires, and prepared for the Northern Luzon section.

Choosing between speed and durability

The North Luzon Loop I completed before the Philippine Loop was also an equipment test.

One of the most important decisions was which tire to use: the Vittoria RideArmor or the Vittoria Corsa N.EXT.

The RideArmor was the safer choice. It was designed to be more durable and puncture-resistant, which made sense for a ride covering thousands of kilometers across varying road conditions.

The Corsa N.EXT, however, felt faster and more supple.

I tested the two tires side by side during the North Luzon Loop. I wanted to feel the actual difference over long distances rather than decide based only on specifications.

The RideArmor gave me more confidence against punctures. The Corsa N.EXT gave me better ride quality and lower perceived rolling resistance.

In the end, I chose the Corsa N.EXT.

It was a calculated risk. I knew I would be more exposed to punctures, especially on rough provincial roads, but I also knew that small improvements in comfort and speed would matter when riding more than 200 kilometers almost every day.

That decision reflected the entire strategy of the Philippine Loop.

I was not choosing the most indestructible setup. I was trying to find the fastest setup that was still reliable enough to survive the journey.

Building the bike for the route

In September 2025, I asked BMC Philippines via JB Multisports if they could support the Philippine Loop with a bicycle.

I received my BMC Roadmachine in October.

The bike needed to handle several conflicting requirements. It had to be fast enough for very long road days, comfortable enough for consecutive rides, stable while carrying luggage, light enough for mountain stages, and durable enough for rough roads and ferry transfers.

I had a professional bike fit with Martin of Forward Motion. In December, I converted the bike to a 1x setup and started testing it on actual rides.

The simplified drivetrain was part of the plan to reduce complexity. Fewer components meant fewer things to maintain, although I still had to make sure the gearing was low enough for the Cordillera and Sierra Madre.

I tested the bike during rides with Ian How and Cycling Chef, and later during One-Shot Sagada.

The equipment system eventually included:

  • BMC Roadmachine
  • Vittoria Corsa N.EXT tires
  • Magene TEO crankset with power meter
  • Magicshine RN3000 and RN1500 lights
  • Spyder Fizix helmet
  • Twin Cycle Gear custom jerseys and cycling apparel
  • Repair tools, plugs, sealant, spare parts, chargers, storage devices, and power banks

I was not simply collecting sponsor products. Every item had to serve a practical role in a 4,000-kilometer ride.

Testing the demands one by one

Instead of relying on one big training block, I used several rides to test individual parts of the Philippine Loop.

One-Shot Baler

In September, I completed One-Shot Baler – 24 hours ride from Manila to Baler via Bongabon and back to Manila via Pantabangan (463 km)

That gave me firsthand experience of Aurora and the roads across the Sierra Madre. It helped remove some uncertainty about the final checkpoint and the route back toward Manila.

China 1,500-kilometer LRM

In October, I completed the China 1,500-kilometer LRM.

This tested multi-day endurance and the ability to continue riding after fatigue had already accumulated.

One-Shot Sagada

In December, I completed One-Shot Sagada (420 km).

That was a test of sustained climbing, cold weather, elevation, and the ability to ride into the mountains after already covering a very long distance.

One-Shot Boracay

In January, I rode to Boracay to experience RoRo travel with a bicycle.

This was not just another long ride. It was a ferry rehearsal.

I wanted to understand the process of entering a port, buying a ticket, bringing the bicycle aboard, managing my luggage, waiting for departure, disembarking, and continuing the ride on another island.

Solo Laguna Loop

One week before departure, I completed a solo Laguna Loop.

At that point, I was no longer trying to gain major fitness. It was a final systems check for my body, bike, clothing, electronics, and carrying setup.

Meeting other randonneurs with the same idea

In January, I found out that three fellow randonneurs I had ridden with during London–Edinburgh–London—Kith, Dan, and Wilfredo—were also preparing for their own Philippine Loop at almost the same time.

Their route was different.

While I planned to head south first toward Bicol, the Visayas, and Mindanao, they planned to begin with Northern Luzon before continuing toward the Visayas and Mindanao.

They rolled out on January 16, two days before me.

Knowing that they were also on the road added another layer to the experience. Even though we were travelling in opposite directions and following different schedules, we were facing many of the same problems.

About a week before my departure, Kith suggested that I buy a Garmin inReach.

It turned out to be one of the most valuable last-minute additions to the trip.

We created a group chat where we could share our locations, progress, road conditions, ferry information, and warnings about anything unusual we encountered.

Through Garmin inReach, we could also track one another even in areas with weak or unreliable mobile signal.

The arrangement gave us a small support network despite riding separately.

When one group encountered a road issue, closure, ferry concern, or difficult section, that information could be passed to the others. In fact, they helped me avoid Quirino skyline and instead pass through Bessang Pass for a faster way out of the Cordilleras.  There was comfort in knowing that other riders understood exactly what the journey required and were watching our progress from another part of the country.

The problem with daylight

A few days before the ride, I asked Leo Mante for advice about bike maintenance and what I should bring.

One of his recommendations was to ride during daylight as much as possible.

It was good advice.

But it also exposed a conflict in my schedule.

To maintain an average of more than 200 kilometers per day while filming, eating, stopping at checkpoints, waiting for ferries, and handling mechanical problems, I could not always stop riding when the sun went down.

My original 19-day plan depended heavily on night riding.

As the plan matured, I realized that riding deep into the night every day would not only increase risk—it would also reduce my ability to see and document the places I was passing through.

That became one of the reasons I added time in Mindanao and became more flexible with the schedule.

I still prepared for darkness. I carried powerful primary and backup lights, power banks, reflective clothing, and charging equipment. But the goal was no longer to force every day to match the spreadsheet.

The goal was to keep moving without making one bad decision that could end the entire journey.

Planning the content as carefully as the route

The Philippine Loop was also a major video project.

I wanted to capture more than the cycling.

I wanted to show the towns, province boundaries, local food, ports, landscapes, road conditions, checkpoints, and people I met along the way.

That meant each day involved more than riding.

I had to speak to the camera, explain the route, record landmarks, capture transitions, manage multiple cameras, charge batteries, and back up footage.

The viewers would later see a continuous journey. Behind the scenes, I was managing hundreds of small production decisions every day.

Sometimes the fastest way through a town was not the best way to tell the story. I needed to stop, film, explain where I was, and give the audience a sense of the distance covered.

This was especially important because I did not want the Philippine Loop series to appeal only to cyclists. I wanted it to become a story about travelling through the Philippines by bicycle.

Making the ride official

On November 7, 2025, I registered at the Philippine Loop Adventure Tour office in Makati.

That made the project official.

Two days later, Mike shared his route and information from other Philippine Loopers. I continued refining my own itinerary based on their experiences, but I kept adjusting it to match my endurance background, available time, and filming requirements.

I also interviewed Byaheng Bike ni Mike during Bike Demo.

His videos had been part of my early research, so there was something meaningful about eventually discussing the Philippine Loop with him while preparing for my own attempt.

The final week

By January 2026, most of the major pieces were in place.

I had the route, the bike, the ferry sequence, the equipment, the sponsors, and the support of my family.

I received my custom Twin Cycle Gear jersey only a few days before departure. I had recently received the Spyder helmet and Magicshine RN3000. I completed the Boracay ferry test and the final Laguna Loop.

Then Kith, Dan, and Wilfredo left on January 16.

That same day, my friends gave me a send-off, and I had dinner with my family.

For months, the Philippine Loop had existed as GPX files, spreadsheets, messages, sponsor requests, equipment tests, and endless questions.

On January 18, 2026, at 3:49 in the morning, I finally left Cubao.

The original plan said 19 days.

The actual journey would take 22.

But that is the difference between planning an adventure and actually living it.

A spreadsheet assumes that roads, ferries, weather, equipment, and the human body will behave predictably.

The Philippine Loop taught me that the plan is not there to control the journey.

The plan is there to give you enough structure to keep going when the journey refuses to follow it.

 

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