By Nancy Nais
THERE are hikes, and then there is Mount Rinjani, the unforgiving giant that towers at 3,726 meters above sea level, dominating the island of Lombok, Indonesia.
Being the second-highest volcano in Indonesia, its beauty is majestic, beyond words, but the journey to the top? Brutal.
For three days and two nights, I was pushed to my physical and mental limits. And yet, it was one of the most unforgettable adventures of my life.
The ascent to the crater rim from Sembalun to Palawangan
The adventure began early in the morning at Sembalun, a small village that serves as one of the main gateways to Mount Rinjani.
The sun had barely risen, but the energy among my friends Noraini Narodden, Aaron Law, Andrea Law, Agustavia Joe Guasi, and Nancy John was electric.
After a leisurely breakfast prepared by the hotel where we stayed, overlooking the mountain, we were greeted by a team of incredibly kind and seasoned guides and porters from Rinjani Hikers, and we began our journey.
The first leg of the trail lulled us into a false sense of ease. Starting from Kandang Sapi, we passed through rolling grasslands and open savannahs, dotted with the occasional grazing cow and distant mountain views.
The weather was hot, dry, and deceptively gentle, considering this only a warm-up before the real climb began.
As the hours passed, the trail steepened. We powered through four official ‘pos’ (rest points), each steeper than the last.
Our porters, each carrying up to 30 kg of gear and supplies with bamboo baskets slung across their shoulders, moved with the grace of mountain goats. No matter how much I whined, they were always smiling.
By 2.50pm, we reached Palawangan Sembalun crater rim (2,639 m). As I emerged onto the ridge, my breath was caught not from the altitude, but from the view.
We were perched right on the edge of the ancient caldera. Below us lay the stunning Segara Anak crater lake, a brilliant blue body of water nestled inside the volcano.
Beside it stood the smaller, active Barujari cone, or baby Rinjani, gently smoking. Behind it, the massive walls of the crater framed the sky. It was raw, elemental beauty.
Our guide and porter team quickly set up camp, and before long, they were cooking up a hearty dinner of fried tempeh, vegetables, rice, and hot tea.
We sat at the edge of the cliff as the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a golden hue over the caldera.
The wind howled through the night, but wrapped in my sleeping bag inside my tent, I tried to get some rest. We all would need it.
The summit push: two steps up and one step down
The wake-up call came at 1am. After a quick hot coffee and a few bites of sliced bread with chocolate spread, we continued our climb under a blanket of stars.
The summit push, widely known as the most difficult part of the Rinjani experience, was ahead of us.
I had heard people say it was like climbing on sand dunes at 3,000 meters. I swear they were not lying.
The trail was steep from the start. For hours, we battled the infamous volcanic sand and loose pebbles.
Every step forward came with a frustrating half-slide back. It was two steps up, one step down, a relentless fight against gravity.
The wind picked up as we climbed higher, and the air grew colder and thinner. Our headlamps lit only a few feet ahead, and every time I looked up, the summit still seemed impossibly far away.
More than a dozen times, I thought about turning back. But our Rinjani Hikers guide and porters moved steadily, offered constant encouragement, and pushed me on.
He knew every rock, every slippery section. One of our porters, who had already summited Rinjani countless times, waited near the ridge to cheer us through the final stretch.
And then, after six hours of lung and leg burning effort, I reached the summit. The timing couldn’t have been more perfect.
The roof of Lombok at 3,726 meters
We arrived at about 8.30am. Although we missed the sunrise, the morning sky was crystal clear, a blessing in a region where clouds often roll in by then.
From the top of Rinjani, we could see all of Lombok and parts of Bali.
Below us, the caldera stretched out in all its volcanic glory, the lake reflecting the soft morning light.
I stood and teared up in silence, trying to absorb it all.
The pain in my legs, the cold in my fingers, the fatigue, it all melted away in that moment. I had never felt so far from civilisation, and yet, so grounded.
Descent to the lake and a rewarding break
Getting to the top was only half the battle. Coming down was no less intense. The soft volcanic sand made the descent just as slippery as the climb.
I skidded more than I walked, using my trekking poles to stay upright. By the time we returned to camp at Palawangan, it was already noon.
After an hour of rest and a hearty lunch, we packed up and began the long descent into the Segara Anak crater lake.
The trail from the crater rim down to the lake was extremely steep and jagged, a mix of rocky steps, narrow ridges, and dusty slopes.
But as we got closer, the lake’s turquoise waters shimmered under the sun, giving us motivation and calling us forward.
Surprisingly, despite the difficult terrain and exhausted legs, we reached the lake by 4pm.
Our porters, as always, were already there, setting up tents near the lakeside.
After the summit climb, soaking our tired feet in the cool waters of the lake felt like heaven. Some of us took a quick dip, while others visited the nearby hot springs, naturally heated by the volcanic activity. It was a surreal and soothing experience.
That evening, we dined lakeside under a sky full of stars. The warm meals our porters cooked, curry veggies and steaming rice, tasted better than any restaurant meal.
The atmosphere was one of quiet satisfaction. We had conquered Rinjani’s summit. Now, only one day remained, a very long descent through a hidden paradise known as the Torean trail.
— DayakDaily
