I signed up for a trek to Mount Rinjani just before my trip around Lombok concluded.
I kept pushing it to a later date because of the mixed reviews from who went before. Some said the hike was easy, others said it was difficult, and there are those who were in between. Eventually, I looked for the best value package among the travel agencies that included porter, food and tents, chose one and decided to go.
The driver picked me up before sunrise for the tour; the car went up a serpentine road. I didn’t realize where we were as I was drifting in and out of sleep, and before I knew it we arrived at the jump-off point.
The start of the trek was easy enough, flat surface that cuts through bucolic villages in Lombok’s countryside. I could see Mount Rinjani from a distance, its peak obscured by clouds and the hazy mid-morning light. I was in a group with French and Danish hikers and an Indonesian guide; we exchanged small talk and pleasantries about where we’ve been, how long we will stay and where we’re going next.
As the trail went further into and up the mountain, the tougher the trek was. In steep ascents loose dirt and scree challenged my already weakening legs and resolve. “Why did I do this again?” I often asked myself during the trek. I lagged behind our group, who were always a couple of minutes ahead; every time I caught up, they were about to leave.
I reached the first campsite on a flat surface of the volcano’s crater. The sight of the turquoise waters of the lake below, and the light of blue hour striking the rock formations and the mountain’s craggy and dog gnawed-like surface were worthwhile rewards for this part of the trek.
Our group called it a night early to get enough rest for the final assault to the summit. The night wasn’t completely dark; the stars and moon were out, partially illuminating the lake below and the trail in front of us in patches of black and white. With only a couple of hours sleep, we were on our way to Rinjani’s peak.
The initial ascent was my most difficult climb to date. My foot sunk with each step; it was like taking two steps back with each step forward. We also had to worry about the precipice as we ascended. The freezing temperature numbed my hands and my face. It didn’t help that I was wearing lighter-than-usual clothing for such a trip. I wasn’t even wearing pants and only had a leather jacket over my light, long-sleeved shirt.
I heard another hiker shout “spirit!” I opined that she meant to keep going, but I thought to myself “my spirit’s on a poolside lounge chair, sipping a glass of cold mango juice instead of freezing in the dark with a chance of dying.” I passed other hikers who were nice enough to offer something to eat or drink and a lighter to somehow keep my hands warm; for a moment we cared about each other, even if we were strangers.
It took several grueling hours to make it just halfway through to the peak. A glimmer of light was already peeking through the clouds. After losing track of time, I realized that it was almost sunrise. I looked up at the remaining kilometer or so and thought about the remaining arduous trail, then turned around and gazed at the path back to camp. I watched the sunlight ascend the ridge, then I made my decision.
I didn’t make it to the top, only one guy did out of the five of us.
I told myself I could’ve pushed and tried harder, given more time, if the guide wasn’t always worried about the schedule and all other reasons. However, looking back, these didn’t matter. If I was so concerned about making it to the summit, and adding it to the checklist of mountains conquered, I would’ve missed out on what made Mount Rinjani truly beautiful; the crater-lake and its azure waters, the way the sunlight fell on the cusp of the crater and the ridge of the mountain, turning its ash, brown surface into a fiery red, and the way the stars and moon lit up the surroundings into a black and white hue, or the nice strangers I’ve met.
It was never just about the destination (of course, it would’ve been nice to reach the summit, though), it was always has been the journey and everything that happened along the way.
Image credits: Joshua Berida