By Nancy Nais
WE had just descended from the 3,726-meter summit of Mount Rinjani—exhausted, yet exhilarated.
After enduring the punishing “two steps up, one slide down” volcanic sand and witnessing awe-inspiring views from the roof of Lombok, we now found ourselves at the serene Segara Anak, the volcanic lake formed in the caldera of Mount Rinjani at 2,000 meters.
While the summit had been the climax of the trek, what followed was nothing short of magical. It was a landscape torn from a dream, and a descent that felt like stepping into a forgotten world.
Segara Anak lake
Our tents were already pitched when we arrived by early evening, right on the edge of the lake.
The Rinjani Hikers’ Mountain guide and porters had everything prepared, from warm drinks, snacks, even a basin of warm water to wash up with.
I could hardly believe the level of care they provided, especially after seeing them haul tents, food and cooking equipment across such impossible terrain.
As I removed my boots and dipped my sore feet into the icy-cold crater lake, I looked around, trying to absorb it all.
Segara Anak was larger than I had imagined. Its surface was so still it looked like glass. Across the water, the active Barujari cone or “Baby Rinjani” sat quietly puffing thin wisps of smoke, like a slumbering dragon.
Surrounding us were the crater walls we had once looked down from, now towering above us, enclosing this sacred place in silence.
Seeing other trekkers daring a dip in the frigid waters, Augustavia Joe Guasi, Nancy John, and I decided to join them.
The shock of the cold was surreal. Yet as we floated in the crater lake, our aching muscles seemed to relax. It was as if Rinjani herself was offering a reward for our suffering.
That evening, the porters prepared another incredible meal of stir-fried tempeh, vegetable curry, hot soup and tea. We sat in a circle around two small lanterns, eating and laughing under a canopy of stars, with the lake’s gentle waves lapping nearby.
Despite the tough conditions, I felt at peace. No phone signal. No schedule. Just nature, camaraderie and quiet.
Into the jungle, ‘Jurassic’ Torean trail
Our third and final day began just after sunrise. We were sore, definitely not well-rested, but eager.
Today would be the longest descent, around nine to 10 hours, but it promised something unique: a trail rarely used by summit climbers, yet beloved by locals for its otherworldly scenery.
They call it the Torean trail, and I now understand why so many compare it to Jurassic Park.
The first part of the descent was steep and rocky, following narrow ridgelines into the jungle.
Soon, the volcanic landscape gave way to thick green ferns the size of umbrellas, moss-covered rocks, and vines draped from towering trees.
Part of Segara Anak flows down a steep ravine, forming one large waterfall and several smaller ones.
There were four natural hot springs in the lake, which locals believe hold magical healing powers and many climb Rinjani for this reason alone.
In the distance, a massive waterfall spilled from cliffs, feeding rivers that carved their way through the valleys. The air smelled of earth, and everything pulsed with life.
At times, I stopped just to take it all in. This wasn’t just a descent; it was a journey into a prehistoric paradise.
The trail, while incredibly beautiful, was not without challenges. It was slippery, muddy and steep in many places. We crossed makeshift bamboo bridges over fast-flowing streams, clung to ropes, and ducked under low branches.
Yet the forest lifted our spirits. The sound of rushing water, chirping birds, and unseen creatures rustling in the undergrowth kept us moving.
Every turn offered something new: a hidden waterfall, a giant tree root arching like a gateway, or a sudden clearing with a view back up to the summit where we had stood just the day before.
Lunch by the river
Around midday, we stopped beside a rushing river where the porters laid out mats and cooked our final trail meal.
Watching them prepare fried rice, eggs and sauteed vegetables in the middle of the jungle felt like witnessing magic. The team never ceased to amaze me. Not just with their physical strength, but with their kindness, professionalism and quiet leadership.
They made us feel like family. They checked our feet for blisters, shared their snacks, helped us across rivers, and always made sure we were okay. I don’t think I would have made it through without their support.
After lunch, the trail widened and grew less steep. The high jungle gave way to rice fields, and before long we were back in the world of villages, motorbikes and phone signals.
Back to civilisation, but forever changed
Just like that, it was over. We emerged in Torean village; tired, muddy and grinning like kids who had just gotten away with something wild. I ran and danced past the village gate.
Cold drinks awaited us. We removed our boots for the last time and said heartfelt goodbyes to our guide and porters, who were already unpacking and cleaning their gear as if they hadn’t just walked the same 40 kilometres as we had.
As our jeep rumbled back toward Sembalun village, I looked back at the summit, now hidden in the clouds. Three days ago, I had stood at its feet, filled with nervous excitement. Now, it felt as though I was leaving a piece of myself behind.
Mount Rinjani is not just a hike. It’s not just a mountain. It’s a rite of passage. The heat, the pain, the thin air, the brutal summit trail, the dazzling crater lake, and the rich jungle of Torean descent; it’s a physical and emotional roller coaster that reshapes you.
There were so many moments I wanted to quit, especially during that pre-dawn summit push when every step felt like three. But I pushed through. We all did. And we walked away stronger. We didn’t do it alone.
A massive thank you to the Rinjani Hikers team, our guides and porters, who carried more than just our gear. They carried our spirits when they were low, our safety when the terrain turned dangerous, and our comfort when we needed it most.
If you’re thinking of climbing Mount Rinjani, be prepared. It is not easy. It will test you in ways you don’t expect. But if you open yourself to the journey, to the pain and the wonder alike, you’ll return with more than just photos. You’ll return with stories that will stay with you forever.
Mount Rinjani: one volcano, a thousand memories. Would I do it again? In a heartbeat, even with bruises and all. — DayakDaily
