Towering above
the Bali sea at 3726 meters Rinjani is one monsterous volcano. The concluding
statement in a guidebook states, ‘Finally, understand that people die every
year on the mountain; it shouldn’t be approached lightly.’ A reason why I
deliberated for so long on Gili Air about the weather conditions. After
negotiating a very nice price with a trek operator and deciding that, surely,
the weather would hold up I headed straight from the Gilis up the mountain.
Day 1: From sea
level to POS III
I arrived in
Senaru to commence the hike much later than the others in my group who started
hiking at aroud 9am, it was now midday. I was a little worried as to what the
weather would do but of course the people organising the hike wont tell you
that it’s a bad day when they can make money from you. Ideally, I would have
loved to hire my own gear and a guide to do it on my own. But without having at
least one other person to split the costs it, financially, didn’t make much
sense to do it this way.
So I was man 4 in
the group who, by now, should have already been having lunch at POS II. The first two hours of the hike were lovely.
Climbing up tree branches to get a foothold along the muddy path. Then, as it
did most days at around 2pm to 3pm it started to rain. And I don’t mean just a
bit of a light shower; it rained. Waiting for half an hour it looked as though
there would be no relenting, it had set in for the remainder of the afternoon.
Out came and on went the ponchos (an absolutely must for traveling in the
monsoon). I was also keen to bring out my secret weapon; the Fivefingers.
Without sounding too much like a sales rep, these are amazing shoes which look
like wetsuit booties and have individual toe pockets. Essentially it’s like
walking barefoot.
Now the muddy
path was like a river. Water was cascading down the mountain like a waterfall.
Now with my gecko feet I was able to trudge around in the water confidently
without worrying about getting my shoes wet or stepping on something where I
might roll my ankle. I was invincible and moving with the agility of a gazelle.
All the while the rain made its way down through the jungle canopy above. The
sound of the water on the leaves was hypnotic.
Continuing like
this for another 3 hours or so I arrived at POS III (2300m) where the remainder of my group had
arrived only an hour earlier. The porters and guides were busily erecting
tents and preparing food all the while it still raining. Everybody was
shivering and soaking wet but my spirits were high none-the-less. People
commented on my insane-looking shoes while I pranced lightfootedly about the
camp.
Day 2: POS III to
Base Camp
We were up early
to make the 2 hour climb to the crater rim in time for sunrise. I’ve done a lot
of hiking up volcanos in the pitch black for the sunrise and it’s quite a
difficult thing. Headtorches are a must to find the rough and
not-so-well-defined paths. The sky was starting to lighten, I still hadn’t
arrived at the creater rim and I wasn’t entirely sure if I was following any
track. Not seeing anyone around me I decided my best option was continue ‘up.’
As the sun peaked it’s head over the horizon the morning dew glistened on the
grass. The morning fog lifting slightly to reveal the rolling hills and sea
below.
Arriving at the
creater rim (2600m) alone I was breathtaken at the landscape below. Inside the
caldera was a second volcano peak surrounded by an impressive blue lake finally
overlooked by the summit of Rinjani. I could never have imagined that the scene
waiting for me would be so spectacular. Looking down the shear cliff into the
lake I couldn’t see a clear path for descent into the caldera. I needed to find
my group and guide. Continuing precariously along the rim I could see in the
distance the red and yellow tents at Pelawangan I where I should have arrived.
Before starting the descent into the caldera lake I took a few more moments to
stare in awe at the beauty of my surroundings.
The two hour
descent into the caldera was steep but relatively easy. There were lots of
strong foot- and hand-holds and were no match for my Fivefingers. Now at ground
level the lake seemed so much bigger and the late morning light increased the
vividness of its colour. Before finally resting for lunch on the lake edge we
hiked nearby to some hot springs.
The spring water
bubbled straight from the ground and you could smell the sulphur in the air.
They were much too hot for swimming but just perfect for reviving our feet after
a long morning of walking. It felt a bit surreal really; sitting in hot sprigs,
in the middle of a volcano in the middle of Indonesia. I don’t think I could
have even imagined this a week ago.
The final leg of
the day was the steep 2 to 3 hour climb to Pelawangan II (2900m), the base camp
for Rinjani summit attempts. A lot like the first day, the climb to base camp
was relentless. As always the afternoon rain had set in and I was sweating
inside my poncho. I prefer to hike alone in these situations, getting into my
own thoughts and own rhythm. I enjoy the challenge.
Finally arriving
at base camp and looking back over my shoulder I could see where we had come
from earlier that morning. Up to the opposite side of the rim, down into the
caldera, around the lake and back up the rim on the side I was now. All the
while the scenery breathtaking.
In the evenings
the only way to escape the cold was to snuggle into your sleeping bag in your
tent. After a full day of walking it was nice for an early night anyway. I was
sharing my tent with a Dutch guy. As it turns out he snores… like a
motherfucker!
Day 3: Summit and
Back
Of course our
summit attempt began with intention to arrive at sunrise, leaving at 2.30am.
Again it was dark and a headtorch was mandatory. Most people had flaked out on
the summit hike, feeling they were too unfit, or opting to stay in bed. Our
guide told the Dutch guy he wouldn’t make it so I stole out of the tent quietly
in the morning. The first hour or so of a hike I always find the most difficult.
This is where you find your rhythm and overcome your physical tiredness.
The hike was
tough. Hiking in the pitch black along a small, gravely and exposed path you
had to check constantly, left and right, to make sure you didn’t stray too far
to the edge. On one side you fell to the caldera below, on the other you fell
down the steep mountain. One wrong step had taken the life of a French guy a
couple of months before. The path was incredibly steep and gravel. Every time you took two step up, you fell
one step back. I really had to make a conscious effort to drive the toe of my
shoe into the ground so I wouldn’t lose so much ground. Step-by-step, I told
myself. Somewhere near the top (maybe an hour or more of walking) and feeling
like this climb would never end I passed by a group of English lads taking a
breather. I told them to go ahead of me, they were faster, but they insisted I go first, ‘If we don’t go
together we’ll never make it.’
So for the final
hour I had 4 hilarious English guys following me pepping each other up yelling,
‘Come on we can do it!’ All the while singing a soundtrack to the climb. At one
stage it was a touching rendition of United States of Eurasia and a rather
energetic performance of Bat out of Hell. By this stage everyone was fighting
the mental demon who was telling us we
couldn’t get there and battling physical exhaustion. We were doing whatever we
could to keep ourselves distracted.
As sky was
lightening we could see the peak we’d climbed for so long to see. We were all
now hiking together, spirits lifting as the summit was within reach. Placing one foot in front of the other I
realised I was no longer climbing up, I was on level ground. I was at the
summit. We all erupted into adrenilan fuelled hysteria. Shouting, hugging and
throwing hi-fives all about the place. I’ve never felt such a rush just from
walking. The view from the top was spectacular. You could see all the way over
Lombok and to the sea. I knew the path we’d hiked was narrow but now in the
early morning light I could see why people have died on summit attempts.
Certainly not for people easily afraid of heights. In fact, in the darkness one
guy turned back after half an hour because he could continue no longer.
Tiny ant-like
specks of people trailed up the crater rim while the morning light broke over
the summit. Clouds whisked over the top of the mountain creating a sort of
‘cloud rainbow.’ After hanging about until it was much too cold to do so.. my
fingers could no longer master the camera to take any shots.. it was time to
blow this scene. Two hours and 40 minutes up, an hour and a half down. Make no
mistake, that volcano was one steep mo’ fo’. Half walking, half skiing, half running down the
now well lit mountain I fell into a fit of laughter when I was passed by
my guide; a 5 foot, 50
something-year-old Indonesian man, wearing sneakers much too big for him,
tights and a beanie, carrying a frozen black monkey that we found on the
summit, running down the mountain before slipping and falling flat on his bum.
Picking himself up he was laughing just as much as me. An absolutely tremendous
mental memory.
Back at base camp
we stuck it to all the people too lazy to get up at 3am and shared our photos
with those of who weren’t able to make the summit over pancakes and coffee. No
need to linger though.. we still had a good 6 hours of hiking to make it back
to the nearest town. Not much further on I realised that I had serious issues
with walking ‘down’ things.. my knee pinching in pain ever step. There wasn’t
much to do but lather that shit up in ye old trusty tiger balm and pop some
anti-inflams. Expecting nothing less,
the scenery was again spectacular; mist rolling across farm fields to the sound
of tinkling cow bells.
Cruising back
through the open fields myself I could only smile; reflecting on the days and
months passed. Life is sweet and I just annhialated an active volcano in
Indonesia!
