Conquering Gunung Rinjani (Rinjani Volcano)

Climbing a potentially active volcano, maybe not the best idea; climbing a currently active volcano, even better. Mt. Rinjani (Gunung Rinjani) is the second highest mountain in Indonesia is a beacon and even a religious icon for the people in the islands surrounding Lombok, as it truly dominates the skyline of the island group. Topping out at 3,726 meters (around 12,000 feet), the volcano covers a few different climate and ecological zones, offering a strenuous, interesting day trek (or longer) for those willing to accept the challenge. Adding to that, the inner peak inside the caldera erupted again a few months ago, sending rock and ash sky high and spewing out steam and lava ever since, even more reason to make the trek up the steep sides of the conical peak. While I was in Gili Meno, my friend Abbi, who took me to the soccer match, introduced me to his brother-in-law who also attended the match and owned a local travel company, so I spoke with him about making arrangements for the trip. There are numerous travel operators in the area, and after having spoken to travelers, I had a pretty good idea of what the price should be, so I told him, and he actually offered to do it cheaper than I thought possible, as I wasn't going through any agents, so we could cut out the commission, and presumably he was doing it as a favor to a friend. The only problem is that I never had anything in writing, and the details were always quite vague, with Abbi just telling me to show up at the jetty on the day I wanted to go, and that his friend would take care of the rest. So, I took the boat across and sure enough, his brother-in-law was there, waiting with a car packed full of French tourists, reminding me before I got in to not mention the discount fare, as this group was paying a lot more for the exact same experience.

Two hours later, past a few small villages and scenic coastal rides, we started climbing the road up towards the mountain, first by car, then dropping us off at the tour office for a tiny breakfast and briefing and sending us on our way. We made up a group of about 18 people, mostly French, with a few Germans and British mixed in, all of us between our mid 20s and mid 30s, ready for the hard hike ahead. We had our daypacks with flashlights, water and warm clothes for the top, two or three "guides" who did nothing more than just walk with the group to make sure no one got hurt and a group of poor porters that carried supplies endlessly up and down the mountain. Balancing bamboo poles with baskets on each end full of food, water or camping equipment, these local guys sped up and down the mountain, a few even without shoes, making the hike much more bearable for us tourists. The trip began with the four French guys competing with the two British soldiers (on leave from Afghanistan) for the first position up the hill. The French group sang and laughed, trying to make sure that everyone knew they weren't tired or beaten down by the tough mountain, and they also began referring to the two large British soldiers as the "Same Size Guys," which sounds pretty funny with a French accent. Hiking at a pretty quick pace, the group mostly stayed together, and we made a stop about 1.5 hours into the trek, already sweating profusely under the intense heat and humidity of the tropical forest, though we were fortunately mostly protected from the sun. Starting off the second portion, I led the way, running into a few concerned trekkers going down, warning us about a very aggressive snake that they had seen along the side of the trail that had actually tried to bite their guide as they passed by. So for the next thirty minutes, we were all alert, searching for the green snake amongst the foliage. A few more hikers warned us as well, though I still doubted that the snake would stay in the same place for so long.

Then, coming around a corner, I immediately saw the bright green snake, perched on an embankment of the curvy trail, right about at chest level for the potential hikers passing by. As you'd expect, it also felt us coming, and it was also coiled and ready to strike as we abruptly stopped just a few feet away from it. I was still surprised the snake was exactly where it had been before, aggressively guarding its territory, though surely one or two hundred people would pass that point in a day, so I don't know how it would think that it's territory was part of the trail. Armed with one of the walking sticks from the French guys, I thought about trying to push the snake back into the forest, but I thought better of messing with it, since it really was eager to strike at one of us. The back of the group made an alternate way through the green forest, and we were back on the trail, tripping over thick roots, passing through dark canopies and perpetually climbing upwards, sometimes steeply, sometimes more gradually, but always upwards. At this point, the pace was beginning to slow, and people were feeling the effects of the hike. Though not technical, climbing uphill for hours in the heat and humidity isn't an easy task, and I was completely drenched in sweat, realizing that my chosen t-shirt for the day, the fake New Zealand rugby t-shirt I picked up in Malaysia for a few dollars, was probably not actually cotton and likely one of the worst choices I could have made, as it seemed as if it would never dry.

A few more hours of hiking led us up past the treeline, finally revealing what looked to be the top of our trek, though still a long vertical climb away from where we stood, along with a few monkeys who hang around in hopes of some handouts from the tourists. This zone is mostly tall grasslands, yellowed from the hot sun and the dry season, interspersed with a few low-lying, wide trees along the steep hillsides, sort of like some scenes out of California wine country. Now we were back in the sun, and the dusty trail didn't make things any better, clogging up the air as we tried to catch our breath for the final ascent. Given our elevation, we were actually above the cloud line at this point, giving us clear views all around and a sea of clouds below. Around five that afternoon, I finally reached the top, having made my way up the last bits of rocky hillside, feeling the breeze, the full-body exhaustion and the excitement of the views that were just around the corner. Since the volcano is currently active, you can't literally climb to the top, though the day trips tend to only climb to the rim of the caldera anyway, which is the classic view we were hoping to find. I walked right up to the edge of the steep rim, meeting up with the Frenchies and the Same Size Guys who had arrived earlier, looking down below to see an incredible view of the opaque, sky blue water forming a huge crater lake a few miles in diameter, with a smaller volcanic peak poking its way through the water in the middle of the lake. This smaller piece, known as Gunung Baru, is apparently only a few hundred years old, and it is the active piece of the volcano right now, spewing out blasts of white smoke and small rocks down the side of its cone. Marvelling at the site and taking in the cool breeze from the top, I spent quite a while at the edge, pleased with the accomplishment, exhausted from the climb and being taken aback by the unbelievable views just in front of me.

Along the crater's rim are a few relatively flat spots where our porters crammed in tents wherever they could, trying to accommodate as many tourists as possible, though some of the one or two hundred that made the trek had to sleep a little further down the mountain. I was first told that I'd have to share a small tent with the two large British soldiers, but after explaining over and over that the three of us literally wouldn't fit in there together, we finally found another tent, and a slightly less angled spot in the dusty campsite, and I was ready for the night. As we began putting on our warmer clothes, the guides cooked a simple dinner of rice and eggs, though the real excitement was in the views all around. Below us, in the crater lake, the darkness began to set in, revealing the glowing red lava stream flowing down the side of the small caldera in the crater lake. Behind us, the thick clouds blanketed the land below the peak, forming a puffy white sheet off into the horizon, covering both land and sea from our view below a few hundred feet, growing thicker as the orange sun eventually set over the white line and the skies grew from pure blue into a dark purple and then black. And just to add to the incredible scene, a bright full moon appeared out from behind the volcano, climbing up into the dark night sky. The combination of views really was one of the more scenic things that any of us had seen, so many of us found quiet places along the grassy ridge and watched in awe as the night unfolded before us. Eventually, the cold and darkness became a little too much, so we decided to head in for the night, and I ended up sharing my tent with one of the young guides who otherwise would have had to sleep out in the cold, on some cardboard mats. He asked over and over if I was ok with that, as I guess they're not supposed to share tents with the tourists, but I couldn't believe that people would literally let them just sleep out in the cold. In the tent, I was ready for bed, but he proceeded to tell me a few local legends about the region. The stories were interesting, but his broken English and my tired mind weren't a good combination, and it even seemed like a ghost story at times with him singing some haunting local songs in the dark tent, only illuminated by tiny bit of moonlight coming through.

After a long, not very restful night of tossing and turning in the cold (the temperature almost got down to freezing on top of the mountain, a big change from the tropical heat to start the day) and sleeping on a few rocks, we awoke with some early morning pancakes and soon headed back down. My legs were sore from the six arduous hours of trekking the day before, but I knew this piece wouldn't be nearly as bad, hoping to make our way down the approximately 10 mile trail much faster than we came up. The two British soldiers literally ran down the mountain, though they didn't tell the guides, so we were often hoping to find them at the next stop. Our walk was mostly uneventful and much more relaxing than coming up, though quite hard on the knees, jumping down over roots and rocks on the way to the bottom. Our guides stopped near the bottom to cook us a quick lunch, and we found out that one of the guides shortly after us had killed the snake from the day before, and the porters were all very surprised and somewhat scared when we showed them my pictures, as they felt the snake was pretty dangerous, though I still think it wasn't venomous, based on the shape of its head, though I still didn't want to test my theory. Soon, we were back at the bottom, every one of us exhausted but thoroughly satisfied with the hard trek up to Gunung Rinjani.

(The aggressive green snake that was waiting on the corner of one of the bends in the trail, literally waiting to strike. We found out that a guide later killed it to protect the other tourists passing by the same way.)

(Some of the grasslands and sparse trees above the cloud line, just about an hour before reaching the rim of the massive volcano.)

(Looking back down from the rim at the sea of clouds below, covering the island and the ocean beyond.)

(And finally a view of Gunung Rinjani and the mini volcano brewing in its crater. The mini volcano, Gunung Baru, is currently active, as you can see.)

(Spewing smoke and lava, just like a good little volcano should.)

(With the volcano and crater lake on one side and a view of the infinite white clouds on the other, there were majestic views everywhere you looked.)

(And if that weren't enough, the full moon starting coming up just beyond the volcano. Here you can see it in the left side of the picture.)

(As the skies grew darker, the red lava on the little cone started to glow, running down the side of the mountain and into the crater lake surrounding it.)

(The moon grew brighter, the lava glowed red, and the winds came up over the hills, putting the area right about freezing for a quick evening meal and a chilly sleep.)

(Again, the view looking away from the volcano was just as impressive.)

(Watching the sun set over the ocean, and that little tip of a mountain is actually a volcano on Bali, about 50 km away.)

(One final line of light on the horizon before the night set in.)

(Here's our campsite early in the morning, just as the sun was coming back up. I stayed in the tent village to the left of the ridge, though I was jealous of those four or five tents on the right who literally had a view of the lava all night long from out their zippered doors.)

(More arid scenery coming back down the mountain, making a much, much more pleasant journey and significantly less sweaty, too.)

(I was more inclined to take pictures of the track on the way down, as I wasn't on the verge of exhaustion nor soaking wet anymore. This is a typical view of the green forest below the cloud line.)

(Near the end of the hike, our guides and porters stopped to cook us our final meal, an Indonesian staple of instant noodles, rice, eggs and just a few vegetables. Not too fancy, but not too bad, either.)