Mt. Rinjani, one for the soul…

Someone asked me later if this was the toughest physical endeavour I had ever undertaken. At the end of Day 3, I had no doubt in my mind that that indeed was the case. Now a week later, with more perspective, it certainly still ranks among the top, if not THE toughest.

Having climbed Mt Kinabalu (13,435 ft, ranked 20th in the world by prominence) couple of years ago with relative ease, my confidence was high and spirit exuberant as we started climbing Day 1 through lush green farms baked by a scorching sun. At 12,224 ft, Mt. Rinjani, the second highest volcano in Indonesia, beckoned the 14 of us promising an adventure which our monotonous city life  rarely provides. Though, with a battery of porters carrying our camping paraphernalia, calling this a ‘climbing trek’ than a ‘mountaineering expedition’ would reflect the truth far better. Passing the first 3 rest posts after a mild 4-5 hour ascent to 5,000 ft was a warm-up now that I look back – narrow treks carved out in between farmland with a slight ascent, the heat and humidity was our only challenge. But with the holy peak visible from down below, there was no dearth of motivation to charge ahead.

The real climb really started beyond Post 3, a steep incline through a terrain interlaced with rocks leading up to the Base Camp perched at 8,700 ft. This was indeed a precursor to what lay ahead for us in this adventure. But what kept us going despite the sudden rise in exertion that accompanies the increasing altitude and dropping temperature was the breath-taking beauty around us. Literally walking through the clouds, mountains rising all around us covered with flora of varying shades of green, and the looming peak constantly watching us silently as we all made our ascent steadily was a sight that kept our heads distracted from the physical stress our bodies had started to feel. Nearly 8-9 hours after we had started, a sight of neatly laid out colourful tents in a long file perched on a mountain ledge wide enough for us to just sleep greeted our jaded bodies. The crater lake, 2000 m deep Segara Anak (child of the sea due to its blue colour), filling up the volcano caldera partially, greeted us in all its beauty, covered in parts by floating clouds changing form and shape with every passing minute. With the base camp pitched right among the clouds, the weather and visibility kept changing throughout the evening. As the sun went down, the cameras went clicking to capture the moment it hid behind the smaller peaks that stood in reverence of our mighty destination. We hoped that we would capture the sight of its next rising from the second highest points in Indonesia. With temperatures dropping fast to single digits, accentuated by the chill the wind brought with it, it wasn’t long before the group snuggled inside their tents to give their aching legs a well-deserved rest before the big day ahead.

It started at 1 am in the morning – our final ascent from base camp to the peak with lamps fixed steadily on our heads, layers of winter clothing in place, and gloves holding firm the hiking pole that was to become our lifeline. Target – to reach the peak before sunrise, a race against time, because if we didn’t, out entire day would get delayed implying another night climb before we reach the second camp later that day. It was a climb from 8,700 ft of the base camp to 12,224 ft at the peak – a journey which seemed straight forward enough in the beginning given our past climbing experiences, but which soon turned into one of the toughest expedition undertaken, turning it into a near 5 hour challenge. The first hour was probably the steepest, with every step requiring significant energy and strength in pitch dark conditions that were getting colder by the minute. The frequency of breaks to catch our breaths in an atmosphere getting rarer by the meter was rising steadily. Reaching the first flat land after the first hour was a mini achievement, giving us further boost to keep going and beat the clock. It was then that the intensity of the climb started dawning on us – the culprit? The volcanic sand that covered the journey right up to the peak! It was like walking in a desert. With every three steps we took, we slid back two, ankle deep in the black ash-like sand – and this characterised the entire climb to the peak for the next 4 hours. And that’s where I found it tougher than Mt Kinabalu, which was a climb on bare rocks – more risky with the danger of slipping, but less intense. This was a litmus test for our stamina as well as the strength of our muscles. But as the body suffered, the soul remained at peace – at that height, the silence of the mountain is only interrupted by the chilly wind whizzing past your face, gazing up you see the astounding clarity of the sky with constellations smiling down on you in all their twinkling splendour, and looking down, a file of headlamps climbing up slowly and a sheet of lights from towns far below gradually waking up to greet the sun. When you hear and feel your every breath and labour for every step you take, ironically that’s when the most peaceful your mind is. But with the peak now tantalisingly close and minutes to go for the sun to rise, I cramped on my right calf. In agony I lay down on the slope, unsure if I would be able to walk any further. But I couldn’t afford to do that, I couldn’t give up being so close. With the kind help of an accompanying friend and other climbers, I stretched, took a breather, got hydrated, and got up to beat the sun, the sand and whatever else was in between with the sheer intention of kissing the peak. And minutes later, that’s where I was. Some of our team members already there, some still behind, it was a sight that is tough to describe in words. Let’s just say that having made way through the arduous climb in toughest of terrains, the orange glow of the sun shining down on the white clouds below us, casting a shadow on the vast lake at the foot of the mountain was cathartic.

After spending few precious minutes capturing the moments on our cameras and bathing in the refreshing feeling of glory, we were forced to begin our descent in order to keep pace with the clock. The next leg of Day 2 entailed climbing all the way down to that glorious lake, breaking for lunch there along with taking a refreshing dip in the hot springs, and then climbing our way up again to the second camp at 8,100 ft. Having come down to the base camp from the peak by 8.30 am, just in time for breakfast, it wasn’t a comforting feeling to realise that the day has actually just started having already completed 8 hour of climb and descent! What lay ahead was another 6-7 hours of descent and climb over an extremely rocky terrain. When you climb down a steep descent over large boulders and rocks, on one hand it’s blissful for the lungs, but on the other it tests the joints and the toes to their limits. Knee injuries and blistered toes are common outcomes on descents through such terrains and many in the group did not escape these. But again, some of the sights as we closed in on the lake were just so extra-ordinarily surreal, that they kept us going wanting for more. These were definitely among the prettiest of sights I had ever seen, having seen a decent bit of Asia over the years now. Mist covered swathes of green on meandering terrains with the flora only partly visible by haunting clouds all around you was mystical to say the least. After another 4 hours of steep climb on high rocks where using all four limbs to climb was a common feature and walking on narrow ridges where one slip could send you tumbling into the deep valley, we finally arrived at our second camp. When they had said that this would be the toughest day physically for many of us, they clearly weren’t kidding. But the camp set on a ledge facing a glorious sunset, a bonfire lit up to provide relief to our shivering hands, a beer for some and hot tea for others – there couldn’t have been a more perfect end to the adventures of the day.

The final day’s descent back to the foothills was a cakewalk after what we had gone through earlier. A straight forward climb down through the rainforests, it was a chance for us to have hearty chats and laughs along the way as the focus had shifted from beating the clock on hazardous routes to a leisurely climb down with a relaxed mood and anticipation of a shower. Oh yes, we were a bunch without access to fresh water for three days 🙂

To say Mt Rinjhani was just an adventure would be an understatement. It was a challenge of endurance, a test of character, a treat for tired eyes, a purgation of  the soul and a chance to not only make new friends, but to get to know your own self much better. What do I take back with me?  A deep respect for those brave porters and guides who endanger their lives every day for people like us and yet wear a warm smile of contentment on their faces; a humble awe for the mountains who can silently grant you glory or wreck your life with equal ease; and a determination to begin the search for my next climb 🙂 
Everest Base Camp someday…