
As Super Typhoon Uwan battered northern Luzon, countless Filipinos turned to an age-old belief—that the Sierra Madre mountain range had once again shielded the nation from destruction. But American storm chaser Josh Morgerman, who flew to the Philippines to document Uwan’s landfall, offered a very different explanation.
Morgerman, known globally for his iCyclone project that tracks and documents the world’s most violent storms, took to Facebook on November 10, 2025, to clarify what he called “widespread misinformation” about the mountains’ supposed power to weaken typhoons.
“The Sierra Madre chain weakens typhoons after they make landfall on the east coast of Luzon,” he wrote. “These mountains do not protect the east coast, which regularly experiences some of the strongest tropical cyclone impacts in the world.”
His post came after a flood of social media tributes thanking the Sierra Madre for supposedly breaking the “eye” of Uwan—a Category 5 super typhoon internationally known as Fung-wong. Hashtags like #SalamatSierraMadre trended nationwide, with many users expressing relief that the storm had spared Metro Manila from catastrophic damage.
Still, Morgerman’s scientific explanation didn’t sit well with everyone. Many Filipinos held fast to their faith in the mountains’ divine protection, dubbing Sierra Madre, along with the Caraballo and Cordillera ranges, as the “Guardians of Luzon.” AI-generated images even began circulating online, transforming these mountain chains into goddess-like figures reminiscent of the legendary Maria Makiling.

For centuries, the Sierra Madre has been more than a geographical landmark—it has been a symbol of faith and resilience for millions of Filipinos living in typhoon-prone regions. While experts like Morgerman emphasize the science behind storm behavior, the public’s emotional connection to these natural barriers reflects something deeper: a blend of spirituality, gratitude, and the human need to find hope in the face of nature’s fury.
Scientists agree that mountains like Sierra Madre play an important role in slowing storms after landfall by disrupting their wind patterns and moisture sources. Yet they stress that this effect happens after a typhoon has already hit—offering no shield to the coastal communities that often take the first and worst blow.
Ultimately, whether one sees the Sierra Madre as a divine guardian or a natural buffer, one truth remains: the mountains deserve not just reverence but protection. Experts and environmental advocates continue to urge Filipinos to safeguard the Sierra Madre and surrounding ranges from deforestation and mining—reminding everyone that gratitude must go hand in hand with stewardship.
Because while myths may inspire hope, only real care for the land can truly keep Luzon safe.