Mt. Rinjani, Lombok, Indonesia 2012

 

This account of my skyrun of Mt. Rinjani is long overdue. I got so preoccupied that it became a dilly dally. I wasn’t sure if I would ever write about it. But of course my conscience won’t allow me. Not reliving the images and the feel of my encounter of the beautiful Rinjani is just not right. I had to share it.

I don’t know how to make it short. I hope you have the time reading my story.

As I decided not to renew my working contract in Indonesia, I made sure that I climb one of its celebrated mountains in Lombok island. And like the other volcanic summits I climbed in the Indonesian archipelago, Mt. Rinjani left such a remarkable impression on me. And a big thanks to a good friend who partly sponsored this trip.

From Bandar Lampung in Sumatra, I flew to Bali then to Lombok island. Clouds hover above at touchdown on Praya airport, a few kilometers away from the old Mataram airfield. Four strangers met up with me. I was a bit scared not knowing who these people are--who are taking me to one of my dream mountains. I entrusted my life to these men thru the intercession of a very good Indonesian friend who is based in Bali.

From Praya, a place of a thousand masjid (muslim temple), we drove to Pancor which seemed like 50 kilometers away. Coconut trees, rice fields, and bananas abound the rolling hills. I saw old people carrying their produce on their heads with such good balance and grace. They remind me of home—the cordilleras.

The trip was long. Bahasa music was playing and my companions we’re engaging in Bahasa Sasak, quite more difficult to decipher unlike the standard language of Indonesia. My escorts tried to speak in their best english so they could practice. They told me stories and they made me laugh, making me more comfortable. I trusted them.

We stopped by at Aikmel in Lombok Timur for supplies. My guides promised to cook me my favorite nasi goreng and the best brewed coffee Luwak (which is by the way one of the most expensive coffee in the world. Why? I guess you already know that). Indonesian food tastes so good and mouthwatering. I’ll surely miss it when I leave Indonesia.

Just after entering the arc of National Park Rinjani, the surroundings got dark. It was so green and forested! Tall fig trees, coffee, cacao, wild orchids, giant fern tress and huge pandans abound. Monkeys were dangling from the trees, seemingly laughing at us.

From our uphill ride, there was a clearing and there I saw the imposing slope of Gunung Rinjani. The mountain’s huge and its tip so far. Clouds of smoke was coming out of the summit. Temperature dropped to about 10 degrees celsius.

Arriving at dusk at the village of Sembalun which is inhabited by the indigenous Sasak people, we bought kerosene and additional food ration. I particularly reminded our cook to buy my favorite Tempe for my dinner. My guides booked me at the Sembalun Lawang Lombok Timur Homestay. It was cozy and comfy but it was expensive. Had I known, I could have just spread out my sleeping bag nearby. Climbing in Indonesia is expensive— and you’ll be charged more if you speak English.

Two guides picked me up after breakfast around 6:30 am and drove me to Senaru—the common jump off point. In my limited bahasa, I recapped my plan for the ascent of Rinjani to Eman--the stronger guide who could run and powerwalk with me. Though he told me he was fasting, he assured me that I have nothing to worry about. We just had to stop about twice or thrice for him to pray.

The sun-kissed savannah slope was vast and humid. From afar it looked like a stretch of soft brown cotton wrap. It was exquisite. The terrain was rolling and it felt good to run. Reaching the woods was a relief. It felt cooler. This time Eman warned me of occasional drop in temperature as we head higher and to be ready to keep myself warm.

Going up the woods was technical. The surface was ashy dry--it made me sneeze a lot. During compressions, the view behind me was stunning. Drenched with sweat and quads feeling the strain after covering about 15 kilometers, I took a peek of where I’m heading to and it looked so far and yes—so high.

Exhausted and hungry now at 2:00 pm, Eman told me the best news that we have arrived at camp site which locals call Pelawangan Sembalun. We are now at 2,715 masl and it was cold. Rinjani stands at 3,726 masl. Temperature’s now 4 degrees celsius and will get colder into the night.

Dinner was a bit late as one of our porters got sick on his way up. Eman had to go back for them. I was left admiring the view of the Segara Anak (Child of the Sea) lake half-way thru the summit. The walls of the caldera were long and deep crevices and the small volcano Gunung Baru Jari (New Mountain) which was born during the 1994 and 1995 eruptions. Puffs of smoke were visible at the small crater. Looking beyond the ridges was the setting sun and the full moon that presented a picturesque drama of wonder.

I was in company of trekkers from Europe and Asia. Just like me they’re in awe at how they’re going to manage to reach the steep-sided conical summit before sunrise with its loose and steep vertical. Recalling the story of the danger at the summit due to sulfuric smoke, slipping and spontaneous eruptions, Eman told me to take it slow and keep myself close behind him. Rinjani last erupted in 2010.

Dinner was sumptuous. Brewed hot coffee and tea, nasi goreng (fried rice), telur asin (salted eggs), and noodles were served by our cook. I ate them all.

The full moon hovered like a giant golden plate against the dark horizon. It lit the campsite as we prepared for the night’s rest. It was hard to sleep as it was too cold for comfort. It’s now about –4 degrees celsius.

At 2:00 am, Eman and I started our ascent. We decided to go ahead of the other tourists to avoid huddling up at some portions of the way up the summit. The moonlight bathe the slopes in a beautiful silence and that my trudging was the only noise. Arriving at a plane ridge brought a much needed respite from my aching quads. The air was thin—it was hard to breathe.

The final assault was dizzying. It was difficult to be still as the wind was too strong to keep my balance. Eman was my eyes in the dusty and shadowy track. At 5:00 am, I was at the mercy of my optimism to summit. I had to dig in my feet for balance before making any further step. That was laborious. Behind me were tourists who looked like fireflies catching up at the ridge column.

I crawled up a few meters and dragged myself to the summit. I was in tears because I knew I made it the. I dropped myself to the ground and kissed it. The view from the top at 5:30 am and was one of the most beautiful sight I have encountered. It was too cold for me that It was hard taking photos. It was –8 degrees celsius.

I took my time at the summit knowing that it would take some time before I get to visit Rinjani again. The journey was worth it. Another dream came true. Until the next summit…quack quack