Mount Rinjani (3726 m.a.s.l.)

The perks of living in Indonesia are the exquisite volcanic mountains. Rinjani is exceptionally one of them. It is written on my bucket list as one of dream places I had to visit before I die. It was begun by a single photo I saw on Instagram last year that sparked my desire to hike Rinjani. Something bloomed inside me, calling me that I should go there, no matter what or how I suppose to do that. When MRU (Mount Rinjani Ultra) registration was opened in early February, I immediately signed up for RAR (Rinjani Altitude Run), a 21 km run course that covers the mountain terrain with elevation gain 1950 meters and cut off time 7 hours. I did not know how extreme the track would be, I didn't care though. All I wanted was to get those epic views of Segara Anak from the summit. Soon I learned that RAR course did not cover the summit, it started from Senaru village, looping at Senaru slope, ended back to the village again. I cancelled my race and was about to obliterate my dream of Mount Rinjani until I found an open trip broadcast in WhatsApp group chat. It was provided by Indonesia Expeditions, an organizer specialized in Seven Summits hiking and mountaineering. The open trip cost me three million rupiahs, a bit cheaper if compared to other local trekking organizers. I decided to give it a try. I circled my calendar, off from work from August 19-23, excited yet restless as the day came closer. Since it's an open trip, I didn't get to know the other hikers. We had just met on scheduled day at Lombok International Airport. There were supposed to be four hikers, but one was unfortunately ill and cancelled his trip, leaving only three of us accompanied with one guide and three porters.

I never did hiking before. Never. I thought I had enough preparations but I was mistaken. We spent the first night at home-stay where the guide rummaged my backpacks, sorted my belongings, and instructed me to leave unnecessary things behind, such as jacket that is not suitable for hiking and clean clothes for the last day trip. I didn't even have any trekking pants, neither hiking boots. I wore trail running shoes in lieau of boots. I didn't have much time for preparation yet any knowledge of hiking equipment. This gonna be a nightmare. Fortunately, my hiking buddies were nice and kind, one of them gave me her extra trekking pant and gaiters, the guide also brought me his additional windbreaker jacket. My backpack was a 45-liter Berghaus, it has sturdy frame but minimalist pockets, exactly what I wanted and needed. I put my 1-liter Hydrapak inside of it, setting the hose through H2O slot which came in handy whenever I felt thirsty and needed a sip of water. There is a tiny orange whistle equipped on one of the shoulder straps, dangling and serving as emergency signal in case I get lost. I worked my way through piles of my load, wedging and cramming and forcing them into every available space of my pack until nothing more could possibly fit. When I was done, I stared at my pack, it was more like a giant boulder, I might have looked like Obelix carrying menhir stone around. I weaved my arms through the shoulder straps, clipped the sternum strap across my chest, buckled the waist belt, and tried giving it a lift. To my surprise, it felt pretty good. It weighed around 7 kg to my guess. I stood for a while, roaming and swaying around the room, trying to find my balance. Perhaps this was how it felt to be a backpacker. This is just the beginning. I took my pack down and went to sleep.

First day of trail started from Sembalun village at 8 AM, we went to the entry point by hitchhiking a pickup truck. It was a fine day. The cool morning breeze gently stroked my hair. The road is rough trail, covered with reddish sand and dirt. When it rains, then it's impossible to drive through the trail. Mount Rinjani standing gracefully before my eyes. In a few days I would embrace the summit. We were told a joke by our driver that the crest is close to the eyes but far to the feet. I hate to say this was true.

Welcome to Mount Rinjani National Park

We walked through the infinite meadows. The landscape was arid, interspersed with range of blondes and browns grasses. The trail was a single winding path, ascending up to the mountain ramps. Our porters walked so fast, bearing our three days logistics, each weighing 20 kg load. My pack was 7 kg only but still I suffered. There are three rest stations, we stopped by at each one for a little break. There were many foreign hikers, they walked swiftly, not even bothered by the scorching heat. I dressed in sports attire, long sleeve quick-dry shirt and long trekking pant whilst they wore only short pants and tank tops or sleeveless shirts. I envied them, they looked real sporty, it seemed like they could reach the ramp in less than three hours. Then we had lunch at station number two, where our porters cooked us meals. I was amazed by those local porters, they are agile, quick-witted, they could speak English, and they cook appetizing meals. They know exactly how to serve and entertain their guests, they told us myths about Rinjani and stories of how they live and make money from hiking tours.

From the third station, we commenced walking through a range of hills that is called Seven Ridges of Regret. I ascended with slow steps. I hiked in heat of that the day with sweating and panting. I wondered why it's given the name Seven Ridges of Regret. I thought the landscape was extraordinarily beautiful that one might regret for not hiking through it. I had not expected that it was actually a living hell. My shoes crunched the sandy and gravelly trail. I could feel the warm sand seeping through my shoes and swamping my toes. It was noon, my body was shimmering into a cold sweat. I rested under the shade, laid my backpack down, and leaned my body against a tree at the top of fourth ridge. I looked up, three ridges to go. So that's how the ridges got its name, the uphills are precipitous and made anyone regretting of walking through it. At my position then it was too late to go back and likely too far to go on. I continued walking and pondered my situation. Back when my Rinjani hike had been nothing but an idea, I thought I'd reached the top with ease. I had been doing sports regularly, running and swimming, it never occurred to me that hiking was totally different. Mountains are inexplicable and complex and consist of layers. When I thought I was at the top of one, there was still more up to go, even if it was alternated by descending slope. Moreover I hadn't factored in my lack of capability, neither the harshness of the trail, until I was on it.

We reached the ramp at 4 PM, it took seven hours included several breaks, I relieved that I eventually made it. The sight of Segara Anak Lake lifted my spirits enormously. The clouds were hovering down below. I like the sensation of standing higher than the clouds. The lake is basically a caldera, naturally filled with water for hundreds of year, circled and bounded by the mountain itself, making it looked like a giant soup bowl. Amidst the lake, stand the cone of former Rinjani, namely Mount Barujari. There is a belief in Indonesia that when a volcanic mountain erupts, it bears baby mountain so called 'anak'. For example, Anak Krakatau, people don't say it Krakatau as it already erupted in 1883, 40 years later its 'baby' appeared and is called Anak Krakatau instead. In Rinjani case, the lake of Segara Anak means the ocean that surrounds Mount Barujari or the new Rinjani.

I was only thankful that I'd made it this far. I was at an elevation of 2600 meters. The weather was warm and the sun intensely shone. I browsed the landscape. Plawangan Sembalun is called the gateway to the summit, I could see it clearly from below, 1100 meters elevation gain to obtain before sunrise and I'd be at the top of it.

There were dozens of tent pitched in groups. I walked through the campground searching for my tent location. I didn't know that Rinjani is quite popular among foreigners, I didn't expect to see such crowd on mountain. Hikers-slash-tourists from all around the world were relaxed enjoying the sun while their porters preparing them dinner. The mood was more like in the feast, as if I was in barbecue party. The smell of Indomie were waving in the air, reminding me that I hadn't had my dinner though I was not hungry. I noticed some porters built small stalls and tried selling sodas and beers for tremendous price. The sodas might be probably too warm to drink due to the heat.

The campground

When I arrived at the tent, everything was ready. Our tent is The North Face Summit Series VE 25 and has enough space for three people to sleep in. It was firmly pinched and was quite distinct from the others as the only The North Face tent in the whole campground. Our porters had their own triangular tent made from tarpaulin. They set the stove and served us fried bananas in a flash. The regular question coming from them day-to-day was: "What would you like to drink?"

After having dinner, I strolled around the campground. The sun already set, the sky was clear and the temperature had turned from warm to chill. I looked up and astounded by millions of star stretched across the sky. The moon was in half-crescent shape, so bright it lightened the whole sky. I reclined down on unoccupied spot and gazed the Milky Way. After a while, I rose finally and went creeping into my sleeping bag as I had to wake up early at dawn and brace myself for the trail up to the summit.

At 2 AM we commenced summit attack. It was dark night but the sky was bright. I turned on my headlamp and saw dozens of hiker lined up while ascending. The trail mostly cramped by rocks and boulders that made it difficult to take precedence, we had to queue along the trail. My steps were hampered by deep volcanic sands. Each step forward seemed taking me another two steps backward. We stopped once in a while to catch breath and see how the other hikers embracing the same difficulties. Two hours later, we were not even reached quarter of the trail but I was already in fatigue and drowsiness. I thought I could reach the summit before sunrise, but by five o'clock it was still there, near in sight but distant in course.

We were halfway to go but felt very sleepy. We then decided to take a break. I was told not to sleep as it will drain my energy out. I laid leaning against a flat rock. The sand felt warm beneath my back. I gazed up the sky, the stars were still there, reminded me of a quote in German: "Freunde sind wie Sterne: du siehst nicht immer, aber sie sind immer da." Though we were reminded not to sleep, but we slumbered anyway. I slept for fifteen minutes, felt like having a dream in my sleep but forgot it instantly. I woke up feeling refreshed. At that very moment, the sun rose before my eyes. Nature never ceases to amaze me.

Sunrise

I was grateful for the morning weather that the wind blew gently and the sun warmly shone, but two hours later my gratitude was gone. It was sweltering hot. It was one hell of a hot morning to hike the summit. I limped ascending the trail and often didn't look up. My eyes were fixed on the sandy trail but my feet frequently tumbling beneath me as I climbed up and switched back. Many other hikers who had reached the summit were descending down the trail and letting the sand blown the air. I covered my mouth and nose with Buff and waited until the sand haze was gone. As I hiked, I moaned again and again, as if that would remedy my misery, but nothing changed. I was already behind from my hiking buddies, but I couldn't force myself to push forward. My face and hands were swollen, resulted from acclimation and physical distress. It took all I had to reach at that far. My head was dizzy and my legs trembled, I thought I was about to collapse. The summit seemed taking me forever to conquer. That was it. I wanted off.

I was told that climbing is more about mental building. I knew it but I had mental breakdown already. All I wanted was to rest my body in the shade. As the notion of quitting settled in, I came to realize that this whole Rinjani hike had been an outrageously absurd idea. I thought within this journey I could reflect upon my life, to prove myself that I can and could overcome any obstacles, to make myself bold again. But the truth was, at least so far, I was consumed only with my physical suffering. The thoughts of the struggles of my life had fluttered through my mind, worsen my despair, ended up with self-pity. Why have my life gotten miserable like this?!

A kind of living hell

Then my guide, a well-seasoned hiker, handed me a five-meter bungee strap, I gripped at one end as he walked farther away from me and pulled me up from the other end. That way, I was supported to ascend. It was 8 AM when I finally reached the trail's summit. This is it. I was ultimately on 3726 meters elevation. I gazed across the expanse. The surface of the water lake sat 1700 meters below where I stood. The water lake spread out in deep blue color. This was once a mountain that approximately 6000 meters tall and had its core detached, leaving a vast bowl that took hundreds of year to fill. This was once a wasteland of frozen lava and dry soil, but now its beauty attracts people from all around the world to come and admire. From afar, the top of Mount Agung in Bali island could be seen. On the other side to the east, Mount Tambora in Nusa Tenggara island could also be seen. It seemed to be a gift to me, for I had eventually walked my way up to the summit. I took a few photographs and rested my feet.

with hiking buddies and guide

Having satisfied the view, we walked back to the campground. The sandy trail that used to be hellfire when I was ascending now felt like heaven to me. I descended swiftly, my heart was rejoicing. If I had a plank or a board, I could do sandboarding as well. How awesome down was for those first minutes! Down, down, down I went that I wished for the trail to go back up. The view below was spectacular, I could see the straits and the tip of neighboring islands: Bali and Sulawesi. The horizon stretched in thick blue and white line. The clouds dispersed all over below horizon. I enjoyed the view so much that I slipped and fell flat onto my butt. It didn't hurt though, the surface of the trail were almost entirely sands. I continued gliding with my eyes fixed on the trail in front of me, anxious I'd lose my footing again and fall. But then, I fell and landed on the butt again like several times along the trail.

Sandy and dusty

Though we were a bit lost in the trail, we safely arrived at the campground just before noon. I immediately drank half liter of water due to scorching heat. At noon the heat was so relentless and the campground so exposed to the sun that we decided to move our tents into the shades of trees. Our porters had already prepared lunch for us. I was not hungry but I had to eat. In two hours we were supposed to advance our trip to the lake and camped there, but my two buddies were too exhausted to hike again so the trip was postponed until the next day. I took intermission and tried to get myself cleaned though water was limited. My feet and hands were streaked with dirt. I rubbed it with water but the stains stayed there. Though I covered my face with Buff, my nostrils and ears were grubby with dusts. I shook my socks out and examined my toes. Even particles of dust had gotten into my toenails, made it seem impossible to retrieve. One of my toenails had blackened resulted from tedious descending. I pulled off my drenched shirt and changed to new dry clothes. I crawled into the tent and took a nap.

When I woke up, it was nearly dinner time. The porters told us that the weather on last dawn was unusually good. We were lucky to hike that day. If there was mountain wind, it would be impossible for us to reach the summit. The wind, rumor has it, is quite strong, it could blow a man away! That night I heard the hissing of mountain wind. It was creepy, I never heard that kind of sound before. As the night falls, the mountain wind blew stronger. The wind had awakened me repeatedly throughout the night, smacking against our tent in great bursts. Thank God I had already peed before going to bed.

I woke at morning but couldn't bring myself up, lingering instead in my warm sleeping bag, half reluctant to leave the tent, still drowsy though I'd slept for eight hours. I stood out of the tent slowly, my muscles stiff from yesterday's hike. The sun rose so bright, blinding me with glistening orange rays. The porters were cooking breakfast, they made triple sandwiches with salad, smoke beef, cheese, and omelette inside. American style breakfast. While waiting for the breakfast ready, I went searching for a good spot to do my business. I scanned the landscape. I almost stepped over a pile of scat. In fact, there were many of them! I learned that anyone could just squat anywhere and enjoy the open-air toilet with a view. It's a pity that the beauty of the mountain was disturbed by heaps of trashes and craps. Used toilet papers and tissues scattered everywhere. The porters and local people seemed not to care about environment at all, they are more pleased to believe in myths and ghost stories.

Our porters and how they cook

I was ready for the trip to the lake. However, my two buddies had no interest visiting the lake, so I went there accompanied only with the guide and one porter. I walked with ease as I had no backpack on. My stuffs were packed and carried by the porter. The lake is quite far from the campground, it takes approximately two hours to get there. I walked through the meadows. The trail is different from the one to the summit, it's mostly sandwiched by weeds and shrubs. It was a fine day to wander, the weather was not too hot, neither too cold. There were many other hikers and porters passing by. We were like little ants, greeted one another, walking towards the giant soup bowl and then back.

A porter with 20 kg load. No shoes, just sandals!

Up, up, up to the lake

Segara Anak and Mount Barujari

When I arrived at the lake, I was amazed by the sight of Mount Barujari. I walked along the edge of the lake and saw many people fishing. How could fish live in crater lake?! I was even more surprised to see dozens of fish were salted and dried in the heat of sun. My porter was supposed to cook lunch for me. However, there was a group of campers cooking. When they saw me, they invited me to join them lunch. There were six guys of them, I couldn't recall any of their names. They were around their 40s, nice and friendly. We ate fish curry and talked about yesterday's hike. They apparently witnessed my struggles in the hike. They had seen I was aided with bungee straps and they envied. They wanted to be aided with bungee straps too! I laughed and told them one must be desperate enough while hiking to get such luxury.

After having lunch, I continued walking to the hot spring. I hadn't had a proper bath for two days, my hair was dense with dust and dried sweat, I wanted to soak myself in the water. It took 10 minutes to walk there. When I arrived, the place was crowded by foreigners. There's a waterfall surrounded by giant rocks and boulders. The clouds of steam rising up from the warm water. I changed my clothes and bathed into the spring. It looked like a kind of sulfuric spring because the water was quite yellowish. I rubbed my hands and legs and soaked my hair. Though it felt pretty good but I couldn't stay there for long, I had to return to the campground. Tomorrow was my last day, it was nearly the time to fly back to Jakarta.

The hot spring

I walked back to the lake, said goodbye to the guys, and headed back to Plawangan Sembalun. The trip back to the campground took three hours. I like the meadows but I was sick with the rocks. I had seen too many rocks on the trail. I really had to exert my energy to climb them. My porter was left behind, he seemed like talking to foreigners, he stopped once in a while to greet ones and cheered them. I thought he might come later after me. But when I arrived at the tent, how startled I was seeing him sitting in the tent! "How could you possibly arrive earlier than me?" I asked him, but he only nodded and started cooking for dinner.

Last day of the trail. I prepared my backpack, loading it with dirty clothes and stuffs. Its weight still tremendous to me. I waved goodbye to the sight of summit and the lake and started walking back to Sembalun village. We walked on the same route as we had on the first day of trail. I walked and walked and walked, it seemed like never ending walk. My toenails felt hurt bearing the weight of my body while descending the trail. It was scorching day too. I forgot to put on sunscreen. For the first time in forever, my face got sunburn. I passed a small herd of brown cows eating grass freely in the prairie. When I walked passing them, they stopped eating and stood still in line, lifted their heads up and watched me pass. I looked over my shoulder and once again saw the crest of Rinjani. It's done. It's over. I had gone through days walking the way up and down the trail, visiting one of the most beautiful mountains on Earth, and I eventually checked my bucket list. The cows seemed bidding farewell to me. Bye bye, cows. Bye bye, Rinjani.