We trekked Nakar-Dingalan on big adventure bikes
Before the COVID-19 pandemic, the Nakar–Dingalan Pass was a mystery to adventurers. This rugged trail is actually an old logging road carved through the Sierra Madre Mountains, linking General Nakar in Quezon to Dingalan in Aurora. For many riders, General Nakar was simply known as a quiet town near Infanta at the eastern end of the Marilaque Highway, while Dingalan was seen as a remote beach getaway, usually reached after a long ride from Manila through Bulacan and Nueva Ecija.
With its raw beauty and unforgiving terrain, the Nakar–Dingalan Pass has now evolved into a true paradise for adventurers. The rugged route now draws a diverse following—enduro riders, trail runners, mountain bikers, 4x4 enthusiasts, and overlanding groups all test their limits here. Naturally, it has also become a favorite among adventure bike riders, many of whom cut their teeth as enduro riders themselves.
Itch that has to be scratched
I’m proud to say that I have the privilege to be one of the first-ever group of riders who traversed the Nakar-Dingalan Pass in 2017. Back then, none of us had any idea what was in store for us beyond the gravel roads of Sitio Masanga—an “Instagrammable” point known as Dapi Rocks.
So, after a couple of years of our annual “homecoming” ride to Nakar-Dingalan Pass, with a successful *one-way attempt on big bikes in 2019, there’s just a lingering itch that needs to be scratched: do another traverse on board these big and heavy adventure bikes.
The muddy terrain and its numerous river crossings prove challenging even for light and agile trail bikes, and any slight change in weather can mean the difference between a successful passage and getting stranded, which basically translates to spending the night in the jungle.
Spearheaded by Ride Manila’s head honcho, Vince Tagle, we took off early and blasted through Marilaque’s twisties. Like Vince, Vic Ochoa, Noy Razote, and Pao Lazareto were all riding their trusty Yamaha Tenere 700 adventure bikes, while globetrotter Gelo Roa, Omeed Jafari, and former circuit racer and off-road riding guru Rey Relativo were on board their KTM 390 Adventure bikes.
Joel Munoz, who was fresh from a Nakar-Dingalan crossing just 2 weeks prior on a dirtbike, was on board his KTM 690 Adventure R. Vincy Buenaventura and Rhomy Santos were both on their bikes’ maiden off-road adventure, riding a new Husqvarna Norden 901 and a new KTM 890 Adventure R, respectively.
Thanks to the generosity of our friends from BMW Motorrad Philippines, I took the challenge using one of the most capable adventure bikes in their stable: the F 850 GS.
General Nakar – the last frontier
The first half of the adventure trail was uneventful. We even had a couple of friends who were also on their adventure bikes join us until the halfway point at Dapi Rocks. They had other plans, though, and will camp at a friend’s farm in Tanay that evening.
For the boys mentioned above, we were keen on completing the challenge and going beyond the route of the Rimba Raid PH, and hopefully be on the other side of Sierra Madre before dark.
Beyond Dapi Rocks is where the real adventure begins. The trail starts with a manageable ascent, scarred with deep ruts carved by 4x4 rigs that had passed before us and by the ones before them. At first, it felt almost pleasant, until the noontime sun and humidity began to sap our energy. On lightweight dirt bikes, those ruts would have been little more than bumps along the way. But on big, heavy adventure bikes, every line mattered. More than once, we found ourselves negotiating ruts on a downhill stretch, where even the slightest miscalculation in brake control could send a bike tipping sideways, crashing hard into the earth below.
We had to pick up our heavy adventure bikes so many times, and the afternoon heat made things one or two steps more difficult.
At last! We reached Sitio Loilo, where the dipping in the cold stream is just too hard to resist. While some cooled off with a quick dip, others just chilled and had some quick snacks at the sari-sari store. Ahead lay the “Siete,” a notorious rocky uphill climb just a few kilometers away. Named for its resemblance to the number 7, this challenging section features a long, right-hand uphill followed by a quick left turn before reaching the summit.
Sitio Dinigman
Following the tough climb to the summit, the group faced a perilous descent to Sitio Dinigman. The slope was both steep and long, with its surface covered in large, protruding rocks the size of basketballs and even microwave ovens. This challenging terrain was a sight of obstacles, and the weight of the adventure bikes amplified the effects of gravity, making it difficult to control their speed without the risk of a fall.
While some carefully navigated the rocky path with a slow and measured approach, others embraced a bit of a faster rolling descent. The latter group put their trust in their bikes’ advanced suspension systems to handle the rocky surface, opting to use a bit of speed to their advantage rather than risking a fall from attempting to brake on the steep incline.
Upon reaching Dinigman, one of the T7s had already burned its clutch. Fortunately, not one, but two of our trusted guides also happen to be motorcycle mechanics. Vic, with his knowledge and experience with his T7, has brought the tools enough to overhaul this 2-cylinder crossplane engine. It was like seeing a surgeon operating on a patient in the middle of nowhere.
With the sun setting, we embarked on what would become the most challenging part of our journey: the last 30 kilometers to Dingalan. Recent showers and the might of heavy 4x4 rigs had churned the trail into a formidable obstacle course of large, slippery rocks and deep, muddy ruts. To make the situation even more precarious, darkness quickly enveloped the trail.
We were prepared for the conditions. The auxiliary lights on our adventure bikes pierced the darkness, turning the treacherous path into a well-lit route. Communication also proved vital; the Cardo Packtalk system allowed riders to warn each other of dangers ahead, a critical safety measure as we navigated the most technical sections of the trail at night.
Almost there
Around 10 PM, we reached a section of the trail where a landslide had occurred a couple of years ago. The obstacle had been made even more challenging by a deep, chest-high rut, likely a result of previous 4x4 expeditions and spring water. The only way to proceed was by carefully balancing the heavy adventure bikes on a narrow, makeshift earth bridge, only about 1.5 to 2 feet wide. On one side lay the deep mud puddle, while the other dropped into a sheer, 100-foot-deep ravine.
With no room for error, the team, together with the local guides led by Toto Roxas, had to push each motorcycle across the treacherous path manually. The process was a painstaking team effort, requiring some of us to pull from the front, while others balanced and pushed from the rear. Without using engine power from the near-300-kilogram bikes and gear, the team moved the heavy bikes one by one, relying solely on strength and coordination to navigate the landslide and its deadly drop-off in the darkness.
Exhausted and out of water, I asked Joel for a drink. Without missing a beat, he opened the petcock on his Dakar-ready camel tank—half fuel, half water reserve, courtesy of his “day job” architect’s ingenuity. The water tasted faintly of gasoline, but I shrugged and joked, “I love the smell of gasoline in the morning… err, evening,” quoting Lt. Col. Kilgore from Apocalypse Now, which, fittingly, was filmed not too far (by sea) from where we were riding.
This combination of advanced equipment and teamwork allowed the group to conquer the difficult final stretch of the journey safely.
Just past midnight, we conquered the final river crossing at Umiray and rolled into the quiet town of Dingalan, Aurora. There, at our beloved Chairman’s Residence, comfort awaited us in the form of a steaming late-night feast. It was dinner at 1 AM—an odd hour by any measure—but the spread of fresh seafood, timeless Pinoy favorites, and the cold bottle of San Miguel Pale Pilsen felt nothing short of glorious. After the long journey, every bite was more than a meal; it was a victory, a well-earned reward for weary yet triumphant adventurers.
Though we longed to stretch the night with more laughter, playful banter on who’s got the most numbers of **counted over a few more bottles of beer, our weary bodies had already surrendered to the pull of rest. One by one, after a refreshing bath, the chatter dwindled and the room grew still. Soon, the echoes of laughter gave way to the rhythm of heavy snores—a gentle chorus that marked the end of a long day’s journey and the beginning of well-earned dreams.
Journey back home
As dawn broke, Vic’s commanding voice filled the halls of the Chairman’s Residence. In his left hand, a steaming cup of coffee sent its aroma wafting through the cool morning air, while in his right, the slow curl of smoke from a Nicaraguan cigar lingered like a signal for the day’s beginnings.
One by one, the adventurers emerged from their rooms, still weary yet refreshed, drawn into the warmth of familiar banter that picked up right where it left off the night before. The laughter grew louder, rolling out into the morning breeze, as if it could be heard all the way to the Aurora–Quezon border. We were tired, yes—but in that moment, joy and camaraderie eclipsed every trace of fatigue.
After the smell of cigar, now, the air was filled with the familiar scent of sizzling tocino and hotdogs, mingling with the comforting aroma of fried rice and eggs. Even last night’s leftovers found their place on the table, turning breakfast into both a feast and a farewell.
After the hearty meal, we exchanged thanks with our host’s ever-cheerful staff before stepping back into our soaking-wet riding gear. Boots heavy with dried muck outside and water inside, jerseys streaked from yesterday’s crossings, we mounted our heavy adventure bikes once more—leaving behind the warmth of Dingalan’s hospitality for the rugged promise of back-tracking the old logging path where we came from.
Just joking! Of course, the real plan was to take it easy through the expressways. From Dingalan, we pushed on to Cabanatuan in Nueva Ecija, then let the kilometers roll by as we linked one highway after another—CLLEX, SCTEX, NLEX, and finally the Skyway, with each stretch carrying us closer to home. What began as a rugged mountain trail ride was now flowing into a high-speed dash across Luzon, the perfect contrast to end an epic journey.
By 7 or 8 PM on the second day of our adventure, the journey had come full circle: each of us home safe, embraced once more by our families, carrying with us not just memories, but another adventure story destined to be retold. This happened in 2023, by the way.
*Was not able to join that particular ride of our group
**Enduro rider slang for dropping the bike, with the handlebar touching the ground
