Father and daughter missing while hiking, 5 years later Hikers find this object stuck in a crevice, revealing the truth about 5 years ago

That day, at the end of the rainy season in Northern Luzon, the pale sunlight penetrated through the thin layer of clouds. A group of students from a local university in Baguio decided to organize a light trekking trip in the Cordillera range, near Benguet. They did not intend to conquer the peak, just wanted to breathe in the pine forest and mountain mist. When the group stopped for lunch near a deep crevice, a student suddenly shouted:

“Hey, there’s something stuck in the crevice!”

Everyone gathered around. Between two gray rocks, where years of rainwater had eroded the cliffs, there was a dark object mixed with mud. Using sticks to poke it out, they discovered it was an old backpack, the strap was worn out.

The group was both curious and shivering. They opened their backpacks: a smudged notebook, a few faded family photos, and a small, pale pink jacket—clearly belonging to a child.

A girl in the group turned the pages of the notebook with trembling hands; the words were blurred but still legible:

“On the third day… it rained heavily, the trail collapsed… I hope someone finds it.”

No one said anything more. They all sensed they had stumbled upon a sad story that had been forgotten for years. As they descended the mountain, they immediately notified the authorities. News of the backpack quickly spread throughout the barangays around Benguet, rekindling memories of a disappearance exactly five years earlier: a man and his young daughter had disappeared while hiking; months of searching had gone in vain.

The backpack opened a door to the past.

That year, Ramon—a construction engineer on leave from a long-term project—decided to take his eight-year-old daughter, Ana, hiking in the Cordillera mountains. He loved nature and wanted his daughter to experience and practice. His wife, Liza, was busy with work and could not go with him.

The father and daughter set off early, bringing food, a small tent, water, and a notebook. For Ana, this was her first adventure; she eagerly wrote in neat handwriting: “Today I went hiking with you. I had a lot of fun.”

The first day went smoothly, but on the second day, the weather suddenly changed. It rained heavily, the trail was muddy. Some sections had landslides, and familiar paths were blocked. Ramon reassured his daughter, but inside he was worried.

That night, in a makeshift tent in the middle of a cold, damp pine forest, Ana asked:
“Dad, will we make it back in time?”

Ramon hugged his daughter and gently lied: “Tomorrow it will be sunny, and we will find our way.”

In fact, they were lost. The next morning, the map and compass were useless as familiar landmarks disappeared under the landslides. Food gradually ran out. Ramon tore his shirt and tied it to a tree branch as a mark, hoping someone would follow.

On the third day, Ramon wrote in his notebook: “We are trying to find a way down. Ana has a slight fever. I will try…”

But the rain did not stop. The father and son were forced into a dangerous area near a deep crevice. At night, the cold wind blew, and Ramon took off his son’s jacket. In the morning, while trying to cling to a mossy rock, the backpack got stuck in the crevice. He tried to go back to remove it, but Ana said she was tired; Ramon only had time to stuff the notebook and his son’s shirt into the backpack, praying that if someone found them, they would understand what had happened.

After that, the father and son disappeared from the provincial rescue team’s search map. Weeks of searching the Benguet mountains and forests yielded no trace; only strips of cloth remained here and there, frayed by the wind and rain.

The story gradually became covered with dust. Only Liza – the wife and mother – did not give up hope.

Five years later, the backpack turned up as the first evidence of the father and daughter’s final days. The police and search teams – along with SAR volunteers in the Cordillera – reopened the investigation. They used the notes in the notebook and the backpack’s location to map out their movements.

In the following days, the authorities scoured the ravine. Finally, in a deep crevice not far away, they found a few small bones, along with the pink string bracelet that Liza had once worn for her daughter. DNA testing confirmed: it was Ana. Ramon’s remains were not complete – just a few bone fragments mixed in with the dirt and rocks – but enough to identify him.

Liza received the news, her tears drying up. For the past five years, she had lived between fragile hope and buried disappointment. Now, the truth was revealed; her pain turned to acceptance.

The backpack was returned to the family. In the small compartment, people found another folded piece of paper, written by Ramon:

“If anyone finds it, please bring my daughter back to her mother. I apologize for making her suffer.”

The piece of paper made everyone choke up. Behind the disappearance was not only the harsh nature, but also the love and responsibility of a Filipino father in the middle of the Cordillera hills.

Villagers came to offer their condolences. People erected a small stele at the foot of the mountain, near the entrance to the pine forests of Benguet, engraved with the names Ramon and Ana. Although it was late, they finally returned – into the arms of Mother Luzon and in the memories of their loved ones.

The backpack – an inanimate object that seemed to be discarded – became the key to open the whole story, closing 5 years of weary waiting. And reminding everyone that: sometimes a small detail forgotten in the middle of nature holds a whole story of life