Climbing Mount Rinjani: Day 3

Posted on by 2 comments

It sounded like the sky was falling down. I could vaguely hear my guide, E-fin, from outside of the tent.

“Excuse me, excuse me. It is now heavy rain. We can go but the walk will be maybe dangerous. A little dangerous, yeah.”

My mind was foggy as I woke myself up. The thought of heading out into the rain was not one that had me jumping out of my sleeping bag, despite how soaked it was from the rain puddling up in the tent. I was actually looking for excuses to stay sleeping.

What time is it? 

“It is 2 a.m. If you want to go we must start now,” he replied.

But you said it is dangerous…

“Yes it will be dangerous. A little bit. Yeah. And the sunrise I think not so good. Yeah. Because cloudy. Yeah.”

I tried calling to Natalie and Jordan just in the tent beside us, but they moaned back in sleepers’ mumbles. Should I go? I asked Taylor. I don’t think I should go. But I am so close. But the sunrise will not be so good if it is raining and cloudy. But I am SO close. Someone tell me what to do!

In the end, we decided to wait out the rain for a couple of hours, and I was happily relieved that E-fin made the decision for me. I would have been overridden with guilt had I been the one to make the final call.

It was around 4 a.m. when E-fin came back over to the tent. The rain had passed. All was still and quite. There were not many stars in the still sleeping night sky, but there were enough to get me going.

It was pitch black when we started the hike, taking me back to that time my friend Marika and I climbed the summit of Mount Kinabalu in Borneo for sunrise. And that time when Molly and I climbed the Poon Hill summit to watch the sunrise over the Annapurna mountain range. I love my sunrises.

Throughout the first two days of walking, we would occasionally cross paths with those coming from the opposite direction, and we would always ask if they had hiked to the summit. The more people we spoke to, the more nervous I grew, but in the end every single person never failed to say that it was worth it. It was a gorgeous view. They assured me that once I reached the top, I would be brimming with happiness.

The early morning air was frigid, and I packed on layers that I gradually shed as I climbed higher and higher. I carried with me my backpack to store my camera so I would be able to tuck it away and save it from any harm if it started to rain.

For someone who can normally storm uphill like a Trojan, this hike was no easy feat. I felt so winded and found myself stopping every few steps, praying for the ascent to be over and praying for flat ground at some point.

IMG_8158

But no, this was nearly 3 hours of such a straight uphill that even the slightest tilt of your head to see Rinjani’s summit arching overtop of you could throw you off balance, make you fall back a little bit.

As the sun started to rise in the east, parts of Indonesia started to wake up before my eyes. The sky stretched with these energetic streaks of pink and golden yellows, and I trekked higher and higher above the clouds cushioning RInjani.

IMG_8152

IMG_8160

There were points in time, just as the sun had come up, where I debated turning back. Though I missed the actual summit sunrise, I had seen what I wanted to see. I had still seen the sunrise from Rinjani.

I stood still for a few minutes, knowing that I had already been hiking for an hour and a half and had at least an hour and a half left. Even though the distance to the summit looked small, I now knew that this was a climb filled with baby steps.

I can’t be bothered, I said to the guy walking up beside me.

“Nah, come on, you can do it.” He stopped for a moment to catch his breath. “Come on. You came this far already. Come on, let’s go. Let’s do it.”

And so my legs started moving forward even though my head was dreaming of floating back down to camp. Each step I took I felt I was just going through the motions, not really in control of my own body. I just kept going and going, and though the ground was not leveling off, my legs were not stopping for a rest.

The sun had risen from the depths of the earth like a samurai, strong as ever and casting its rays long and far across the sky.

IMG_8167

When I finally reached the top, I let out a small laugh of utter relief and euphoria. I felt damn good and proud.  A group of a couple of hikers were there to give me a high five and soak in the glory and the scene with me.

We could see all of Lombok, the islands of Sumbawa and the three Gili islands, and we could see the volcano from Bali. The crater rim that I had camped at on my second night lie far in the basin below us, half shadowed by the clouds. It was a truly spectacular scene.

IMG_2418

IMG_8169

 

IMG_8175

IMG_8184

I walked to the very edge of the summit, grabbed the summit sign and stood there beaming. I looked at the world around me, below me, waiting for me to fall into it and to reach whatever ends of I could. These are the moments that I live for when traveling, those moments where you wonder how the world came to be what it is, why the earth looks like the way it does and how damn excited you are to continue exploring it all.

IMG_8171

IMG_8173

I sat at the top for nearly 20 minutes before my guide and the one other girl from my group arrived at the summit. More high fives went around, biscuits were devoured, and smiles were painted on our faces. We had done it. We had summited Mount Rinjani in Indonesia.

The longer we lingered the colder the air felt against my sweat-drenched skin despite re-dressing into all of my layers. E-fin looked at his watch and told us it was about time we head back down so that we can get breakfast before embarking on another four hours of trekking.

I felt my heart seize up with fear as if it was standing on the edge of a cliff. I told E-fin that I was terrified, and that he needed to stay close to me and not leave me stranded on the mountainside.

IMG_8193

At first it seemed somewhat easy. The gravity just pushed me forward and my feet cycled through the thick, volcanic sand. I made it about 20 minutes or so without falling, maybe a couple of slips here and there where I was able to catch my balance, where I was impressed by how the body can respond to danger without the brain really processing the actions or thinking about it.

But then the disasters came, and I virtually fell from the top back down to the base where our campsite was. Almost every ten steps I took my legs lost control and my body could not save itself. My arms went flailing up in the air and the gentle landslide of rocks and pebbles gave way beneath me. I was falling all over the place, repeatedly hitting my elbows on cliffside rocks and forever filling my shoes with sand.

At one point, I was actually just stopped for one second to talk to a guy I had met throughout the trek, and I fell flat on my butt. I was standing still, not even moving, but my legs were just so shaky, so scared from the epic downfall. E-fin, the guide, was genuinely concerned for my well-being. He took my backpack from me (which had nothing but my camera in it at this point) and asked if I had ever done any kind of trek before. “Miss Slip” he decided to call me.

There were two to three different points on the way down where I cried. My vision went wobbly and I tried to blink away the tears, but all that happened was a silent set of self-defeated sobs of me crying to myself, I do not want to be doing this. I can not do this. I do not want to be here.

All I wanted to do was snap my fingers and be done, be back at camp and feasting on the world’s thinnest banana pancake and drinking the world’s most inexplicably sweet tea. I was so afraid everyone would see me crying, so I kept my face down and pointed toward my feet while I let some tears stream down until I gathered my courage again to stay focused.

I practically kissed the ground when we finally arrived back at the campsite. I was so happy to be back, and we had about an hour before we needed to continue on and finish off the trek at a town called Sembalu.

IMG_8196

IMG_8197

We had some time after finishing breakfast, but then came time to embark on the final leg of our journey. As we started to make our way toward the path, we passed a group of porters sat on the ground in front of a tent and playing a card game. They were gambling, using cigarettes as the tokens.

E-fin warned me that the next two hours were steep downhill. Naturally to make everything all the more safe and less terrifying, not only was the path steep but one made of sludgy, slippery mud that someone like myself could easily fall down multiple times.

And I did, time and time again.

I will be honest, aside from laughing with Jordan and Natalie at the sheer fear the three of us tiptoed our way down with, I almost did not enjoy any of the last four hours of walking – not even the part where we walked through beautiful, prairie-like path through tall grasses that were lightly dancing in the gentle breeze. Once I kind of did what I wanted to do, which was see the sunrise, I just wanted the entire trek to be over in a flash.

Though the ground had slightly levelled off for the most part, there was still a small, hardly noticeable downhill slope that most did not mind but to me still felt like I was walking my way down a black diamond ski slope. My toes were in so much pain from spending the past six hours pressed up against the fronts of my shoes that I was certain they would not be there at the end of the trek.

IMG_2420

IMG_2421

IMG_8221

When we finally arrived in the village of Sembalu, we walked through infinitely green rice fields where happy women in hats that reminded me of Vietnam waved at us with childlike excitement. My spirits picked up, and so did my pace.

IMG_8231

And then just like that, we were done.

A long car ride back to the starting point in Senaru led to another car ride back to the port, and just over the distance to our right, in front of a concrete dock where local kids hung out and splashed about in the waters below, off in the distance was a rainbow stretching far across the sea. It was the perfect ending to a long three days.

IMG_2438

We jumped on the local boat back to Gili T, and my body instantly felt ready to collapse into a real bed. Roberto had arrived to Gili T already, and when I finally got back to the hostel, I was able to keep up a non-zombie conversation with him until well close to midnight – at which point I had been awake for  nearly 19 hours – until my eyes watered over with delirium and I passed out.

IMG_2441

Surprinsgly, when I woke up the next morning, I was expecting to feel as if someone had surgically removed my legs, but I felt perfectly fine that day and the days after. I actually woke up feeling spritely, wanting to head out on a scuba dive and go do all that the world offered me. I still felt high from the satisfaction of summiting Rinjani.

IMG_2478

In the end, the mental challenge of Rinjani far outweighed the physical challenge for me, and being able to maintain a relatively stable sense of calm (crying five times is calm for me) whilst toppling my way downhill throughout the three days was an accomplishment on my part.

It may not be the tallest mountain in the world or the most challenging climb there is, but everything in life is small step to something bigger. I can say with a smile that I defeated Rinjani, and I did not let fear or strain get the best of me.

For as much as I complain, and again for as much as I slipped and fell, climbing and trekking teaches you so much about trust, whether you are trusting yourself, your body, your guide, the friends you are with to pull you through and the people you meet to help keep you positively going. When you are blindly scaling walls and following the directions of people are telling you to move your foot a little lower and to the right, you can only have faith that your footing will eventually land itself in strong nooks and crannies, and that your arms will instinctively pull you up or that your knees and your hips will safely lower you down.

I would not walk away saying that there is no danger that comes with climbing and that I have lost my fear of going downhill, but I have learned to trust myself the littlest bit more, to have confidence and faith that I will get done what needs to be done despite how many tumbles I may take.

2 comments on “Climbing Mount Rinjani: Day 3

  1. Nice report with nearly exactly the same feelings I had when I climbed Rinjani yesterday. Your summary, that it’s a huge mental challenge is exactly my opinion. I think I never did something like this and had to motivate myself couple of times to not give up at this incredible steep wall to the top.
    Congrats that you made it – the feeling of holding this sign is just amazing!
    Chris

    • hi there! so sorry for my delay in getting back to you, Chris! I’ve not done a fair amount of hikes and treks, but I’ve done a fair amount, and that was by far one of the hardest hikes I’ve done. My legs were shattered by the end, and yes – the feeling of getting up there is what makes it so rewarding. So glad you enjoyed it. Safe travels where ever you might be!

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

You may use these HTML tags and attributes: <a href="" title=""> <abbr title=""> <acronym title=""> <b> <blockquote cite=""> <cite> <code> <del datetime=""> <em> <i> <q cite=""> <strike> <strong>