Habib's text wakens me at 9:30am. We must make haste if we wanna join the hike! Hustle to get organized. Bell Hop hails a cab. An hour through abominable traffic and we're at Habib's door. Only he's busy showering. Eventually he's dressed and all, "C'mon, the others are waiting." Hustle down the street to where a caravan of jeeps awaits. This is meant to be a hike, right? Wait-wait. Wait some more. And then, "Which one do you want to ride in?" How about the open one. No walls or roof to confine me, I gotsta be free!
Pull into church parking lot. Gotta wait for Grampa to finish a meeting. Two year old Chester babbles in Mother's arms. Fer Chrissake the whole family's come along. Should know by now. We're in Indoland. Hurry up and wait.
Hours later and we're off. The rust bucket I've chosen to ride in guzzles gas like a Hummer. The weird plastic gas can tied down to the front seat is buggin' me out. Safety second! All offers to off-set cost of fuel are rebuked. No way bule (boo-lay), you're my guest now.
Yeah, so it wasn't ever going to be a hike to begin with. Nope. We're going off-roading. The trail is insane. All muddy trenches and small boulders up steep incline through sparse conifer forest. On occasion we encounter massive dips. Our driver simply guns the engine in the hopes we will catch air. The boys ahead are snapping pictures as our jeep hurdles over mud ramps the height of our windshield. The guys behind us nearly upend their vehicle. Too fun, just gotta back up and do it again. Straight death wishers.
Habib wants us to ride the jeep with the flatbed which requires we stand. That's real off-roadin'! Yeee-haw! 'Merica! Cross bar on the roof we're using as a handhold can't take our weight, snaps off in our hands. Nothing to hang onto now. Death looms.
Switch jeeps. Getting battered from all the bouncing. Certainly exciting but it can't beat hiking. Just can't get intrigued by motorsports. Don't get the appeal. I hike, I ride my bike, all my locomotion is powered from within. That's real freedom. My point proves salient in light of the frequent breakdowns that halt our progress. Never deters our hosts. They're out of their seats scrutinizing automobile guts, solving issues in minutes. Still, pieces of the topless jeep keep breaking off. How long can this ancient rig last? The abuse it receives, my lord. Deep puddles? Muscle through. Log in the road? Roll over it, gun that engine, make it happen. Yeah! Feel the power! We're a men among men-men manly men-men manly men are we!
Finally our party parks somewhere near the peak. Habib ushers us through tall grass to an overlook. The city sprawls below in all directions. A mean storm is brewing, whisps of cloud scatter light of a fading sun. Best part of our day's adventure this brief hike.
Into darkness we descend. Back in town and our caravan stops for dinner. No discussion of what we would like. Dudes are paying our way and will call all the shots, no questions. Scrumptious Padang food eaten the Padang way, with bare fingers. After the day's battery boiled cabbage would have tasted good. Hunger is the best sauce.
As a final conundrum our hosts lead us to believe we will follow dinner with drinks somewhere in town only to be escorted back to our hotel, ostensibly to clean up, and then told we can't carry on together. They're tired and won't be able to join us for the night. So...you couldn't have just dropped us off at a bar in town and parted ways? Nope. The host must be entirely responsible. No exceptions.
Stranded in this weird end of town Natalie and I opt for showers before a visit to the hotel bar up the hill. Streets are dark, empty, and quiet. Abandoned. Ghost bar. Just the two of us drinking. The rock band posters adorning the walls were a sensible if oft-used touch. But the plethora of vast display cases housing atrocious Barbie Doll scenes was just creepy. Who in their right mind put this abomination together? Wish I had brought my camera so you could see what I'm talking about. Wish in one hand...
Bus back to Bogor Monday morn. Return to my crib two hours before work begins. What follows is a week of fatigue.
Thursday, September 27, 2012
Tuesday, September 25, 2012
9/15/2012 Weekend in Bandung
In need of a fix I scope the intronets for some homegrown Drum'n'Bass. Turns out JavaBass SoundSystems, a local crew is producing a party in Bandung (bahn-doong.) Haven't yet been to Bandung. Sounds like a perfect opportunity to vacate Bogor. I put the word out to area drinkin' buddies, get only two bites. Haley, the chipper Brit from our other branch in town and Natali the new girl. Well enough. Three's a company so I'm told.
Decks a'get waxed on a Saturday night, the Ides of September, as it were. Early to bed Friday night so as to handle Saturday morning Business English class, then it's off to the bus stop. Natalie's game. Haley pulls a no show-no call. Her loss. Exhausted on the bus. Can never quite sleep proper in transit but I certainly lose consciousness for a wee bitty. Four uncomfortable hours later we're in Bandung. A taxi scoops us up immediately, and just as well. It's getting dark.
Figured finding the venue first was ideal. Score a room after. Confounded to find taxi-man driving us out of town, into the hills. Are you going the right way sir? Eventually venue is located. Posh looking club, exclusive one might presume, and in the vicinity of several swank hotels. Is this real? A Drum'n'Bass party in such an atmosphere? I was expecting some dingy underground dive on the wrong end of the tracks.
First two hotels we scoped were fully booked. Taxi-man is sticking with us until we are settled. Right kind of him. Finally we find a spot down a narrow alley, away from the hubbub. Quaint, reasonably priced, cozy little crib, personal balcony to boot. No complaints. Bell hop can only say "Sorry sir, no speak English" but he's quite handy with the heaps of Nasi Goreng (fried rice) he delivers for dinner. Gobble down the scrumdiddly and I'm ready to crash. Rest up before hitting the hardfloor.
Roof top lounge with outlandishly priced cocktails and reasonably priced beers. Most audacious disco ball I've ever laid eyes on. Shoulda brought my camera but starting my day at seven in the morn is a recipe for an absent mind. Hard floor is empty. Groups are huddled on trendy bar loungers all along the edge. Natalie and I hold down the rear of the room, downing beers as we make note of the awkward scene. Will these peeps ever get off they seats?
The night progresses. I'm itchin' for a floor rush. Is it only the alcohol or has the music just gotten more affable? Beats break and bass lines roll. I'm a marionette. Selekta on decks is pullin' my strings. Bum knees and flat feet recede as voodoo ancestors come riding. And I'll say it again, "It's been a long time/I shouldn't have left you...think about how many weak shows you slept through/time's up, sorry I kept you..."
Good show. And when the audio failed bro stood up and spat beats into the mic if only to keep the energy live. Back in session and I swear to god, hands down the best Jungle EmCee I've ever seen live. And to think it all in a second language? Laaaaaawd'a'Mercy!
Four in the morn and the lights come up. Friendly peeps meet and greet. Homeboy Habib offers a ride back to our hotel. But first we must commemorate this great night with pix on the Union Jack couch. Bodacious. Habib casually inquires if we wish to ride the lift. Why not? What's the worst that could happen? Ancient transit down gentle slope, descends at break-nothing speed. Can't even get my heart to skip a beat when gate swings open against my body weight. Carnival times.
Pack the three of us on the back of Habib's scooter and the hour walk back to our room is reduced to a ten minute ride through wet streets. On the way Habib suggests hiking tomorrow. Sounds promising. Hit the sac by five in the morning. We have no idea what we've signed on to. Life has a way of weaving peculiar spirals.
Decks a'get waxed on a Saturday night, the Ides of September, as it were. Early to bed Friday night so as to handle Saturday morning Business English class, then it's off to the bus stop. Natalie's game. Haley pulls a no show-no call. Her loss. Exhausted on the bus. Can never quite sleep proper in transit but I certainly lose consciousness for a wee bitty. Four uncomfortable hours later we're in Bandung. A taxi scoops us up immediately, and just as well. It's getting dark.
Figured finding the venue first was ideal. Score a room after. Confounded to find taxi-man driving us out of town, into the hills. Are you going the right way sir? Eventually venue is located. Posh looking club, exclusive one might presume, and in the vicinity of several swank hotels. Is this real? A Drum'n'Bass party in such an atmosphere? I was expecting some dingy underground dive on the wrong end of the tracks.
First two hotels we scoped were fully booked. Taxi-man is sticking with us until we are settled. Right kind of him. Finally we find a spot down a narrow alley, away from the hubbub. Quaint, reasonably priced, cozy little crib, personal balcony to boot. No complaints. Bell hop can only say "Sorry sir, no speak English" but he's quite handy with the heaps of Nasi Goreng (fried rice) he delivers for dinner. Gobble down the scrumdiddly and I'm ready to crash. Rest up before hitting the hardfloor.
Roof top lounge with outlandishly priced cocktails and reasonably priced beers. Most audacious disco ball I've ever laid eyes on. Shoulda brought my camera but starting my day at seven in the morn is a recipe for an absent mind. Hard floor is empty. Groups are huddled on trendy bar loungers all along the edge. Natalie and I hold down the rear of the room, downing beers as we make note of the awkward scene. Will these peeps ever get off they seats?
The night progresses. I'm itchin' for a floor rush. Is it only the alcohol or has the music just gotten more affable? Beats break and bass lines roll. I'm a marionette. Selekta on decks is pullin' my strings. Bum knees and flat feet recede as voodoo ancestors come riding. And I'll say it again, "It's been a long time/I shouldn't have left you...think about how many weak shows you slept through/time's up, sorry I kept you..."
Good show. And when the audio failed bro stood up and spat beats into the mic if only to keep the energy live. Back in session and I swear to god, hands down the best Jungle EmCee I've ever seen live. And to think it all in a second language? Laaaaaawd'a'Mercy!
Four in the morn and the lights come up. Friendly peeps meet and greet. Homeboy Habib offers a ride back to our hotel. But first we must commemorate this great night with pix on the Union Jack couch. Bodacious. Habib casually inquires if we wish to ride the lift. Why not? What's the worst that could happen? Ancient transit down gentle slope, descends at break-nothing speed. Can't even get my heart to skip a beat when gate swings open against my body weight. Carnival times.
Pack the three of us on the back of Habib's scooter and the hour walk back to our room is reduced to a ten minute ride through wet streets. On the way Habib suggests hiking tomorrow. Sounds promising. Hit the sac by five in the morning. We have no idea what we've signed on to. Life has a way of weaving peculiar spirals.
Tuesday, September 18, 2012
8/25-26/2012 Weakness
Daaaamn, apothecary! Thy drugs are quick.
Our tour of Mini Indonesia begins at 1pm. I've taken Chuck to see the National Museum to pass the morning. We visit a section that I missed the last time I dropped by. Oddly enough the logic of the displays was essentially identical to the previous section, tracing the course of human evolution and development of culture through study of Indonesian history.
I have taken the aforementioned pills purchased from last night's visit to the pharmacy. Whoa. Can't believe they're allowed to sell this stuff over counter. Must be some form of opiate. I'm reeling on my feet. It's a miracle I don't crash through the display cases. The thing that scares me the most, when it comes over me, and I loose control...I like it.
The tour was a total bust. At first I was pissed that we were stuck in a bus. The whole park was jammed with traffic and people. No wonder. An island the size of England holding two hundred million is a recipe for choking claustrophobia. But as we stepped out to see things up close I figured it better to just stay aboard. What a sham. Taman Mini IndoIndah has all the potential in the world to be an amazing sort of living museum. Instead it's a bizarre circus where traditional houses from all over the archipelago are intermingled with disgusting modern entertainment. Carnival grounds are populated with entertainers in colorful bear costumes that must be just sweltering in this heat. God get us out of this heinous mess.
The only worthy part of the tour was a visit to the nearby cultural museum. Inside displays held traditional crafts and clothing from the entire island chain. Some more examples of Balinese carvings were of most interest. All in all a nice museum but it couldn't chase the sour taste from my mouth. Once again, Indonesia falls short.
Sunday, the last day of vacation rolls around and I'm at wits end. Sorry Chuck. I need a break from all this. We've done our best. We've managed to take in three very different islands, see orangutans, Balinese dance, a massive volcano and other nonsense all in the matter of two short weeks. But I need a vacation from vacation and I can tell you're ready to get on to Japan. Enjoy the rest of your trip. Write me soon and post pictures. At the airport I embrace my brother once more before heading back to Bogor. Work awaits. I am to teach Saturday mornings again.
Our tour of Mini Indonesia begins at 1pm. I've taken Chuck to see the National Museum to pass the morning. We visit a section that I missed the last time I dropped by. Oddly enough the logic of the displays was essentially identical to the previous section, tracing the course of human evolution and development of culture through study of Indonesian history.
I have taken the aforementioned pills purchased from last night's visit to the pharmacy. Whoa. Can't believe they're allowed to sell this stuff over counter. Must be some form of opiate. I'm reeling on my feet. It's a miracle I don't crash through the display cases. The thing that scares me the most, when it comes over me, and I loose control...I like it.
The tour was a total bust. At first I was pissed that we were stuck in a bus. The whole park was jammed with traffic and people. No wonder. An island the size of England holding two hundred million is a recipe for choking claustrophobia. But as we stepped out to see things up close I figured it better to just stay aboard. What a sham. Taman Mini IndoIndah has all the potential in the world to be an amazing sort of living museum. Instead it's a bizarre circus where traditional houses from all over the archipelago are intermingled with disgusting modern entertainment. Carnival grounds are populated with entertainers in colorful bear costumes that must be just sweltering in this heat. God get us out of this heinous mess.
The only worthy part of the tour was a visit to the nearby cultural museum. Inside displays held traditional crafts and clothing from the entire island chain. Some more examples of Balinese carvings were of most interest. All in all a nice museum but it couldn't chase the sour taste from my mouth. Once again, Indonesia falls short.
Sunday, the last day of vacation rolls around and I'm at wits end. Sorry Chuck. I need a break from all this. We've done our best. We've managed to take in three very different islands, see orangutans, Balinese dance, a massive volcano and other nonsense all in the matter of two short weeks. But I need a vacation from vacation and I can tell you're ready to get on to Japan. Enjoy the rest of your trip. Write me soon and post pictures. At the airport I embrace my brother once more before heading back to Bogor. Work awaits. I am to teach Saturday mornings again.
8/24/2012 Tiresome Vacation
Depart Bali wicked early, no chance to enjoy the scenery, what turned out to be my favorite from the whole trip. I dunno. There's so much to see and do in Indonesia and I don't know when I'll ever get back. Makes most sense to diversify the experience, take in as much as possible. I've got another vacation lined up for Xmas/NewYear. Three weeks. There's a shit ton to discover but somehow I feel like Bali is calling. I've got time to make plans...
Jakarta is swarthy as ever. Initially we make for the harbor in the hopes of securing a trip to Pulau Seribu (Thousand Islands) but it's all vacation packages, exorbitant prices, and what appears to be soulless tourist trap resorts. What's more all the transport has left for the day, we'd have to book for tomorrow. Doesn't seem worth it.
Get a hotel in town instead. Rest up a bitty. Seek out the tourist information center. The director there is a chatty lady. She's trying to hook up her son with a college education, hoping Chuck will act as his liaison. Finally we get her to make some suggestions. Taman Mini Indonesia Indah (Fine Miniature Indonesia Park) sounds promising. We book a tour in the hopes of seeing something of worth.
Night falls. We're in search of some kind of Batik shop to tantalize the eyes. It fails to manifest and we turn back. My knee is moaning again. Get an Ace Bandage. Get some drugs. Call it an early night. Travel is so fatiguing.
Jakarta is swarthy as ever. Initially we make for the harbor in the hopes of securing a trip to Pulau Seribu (Thousand Islands) but it's all vacation packages, exorbitant prices, and what appears to be soulless tourist trap resorts. What's more all the transport has left for the day, we'd have to book for tomorrow. Doesn't seem worth it.
Get a hotel in town instead. Rest up a bitty. Seek out the tourist information center. The director there is a chatty lady. She's trying to hook up her son with a college education, hoping Chuck will act as his liaison. Finally we get her to make some suggestions. Taman Mini Indonesia Indah (Fine Miniature Indonesia Park) sounds promising. We book a tour in the hopes of seeing something of worth.
Night falls. We're in search of some kind of Batik shop to tantalize the eyes. It fails to manifest and we turn back. My knee is moaning again. Get an Ace Bandage. Get some drugs. Call it an early night. Travel is so fatiguing.
8/23/2012 Travelin' Blues
Weird day. We booked a fast boat to Bali so we can catch our flight to Jakarta tomorrow. What was originally meant to be a 9:30am start was inexplicably pushed back to 1pm. Nothing much to do but eat a bit and lounge about on the beach, waiting.
Fast boat is delayed. When it finally arrives they cram us in. Chuck and I are relegated to the back where there is no roof for cover from crashing waves. The ride is long and bumpy. Poor Chuck is in the back corner and the pilot keeps steering hard into waves so as to blast water into Chuck's seat. He's absolutely drenched. I hated seeing my brother get hosed like that, it was totally inhospitable. I can't believe these assholes couldn't even offer a poncho or something. Not even a fair warning. What a bunch of dicks. I've come to expect no less from Indonesians. Seriously, the lack of foresight around here is nothing short of appalling.
Chuck is shivering when we finally make shore. It's later than expected due to a stop on Nusa Penida not originally mentioned. We find a place to crash. Chuck requires a hot shower.
Out to find dinner we stumble across a pair of Indo midgets dressed as leprechauns plugging the local Irish Pub. Tasty beverages and grub inside. A live band for once. We get lost on the way back to our hotel. Sidewalk in the dark proves treacherous with sporadic holes where whole concrete blocks are missing. Open sewage runs beneath. Who can be held liable for such neglect? Certainly not the city that used resident taxes to finance construction.
8/22/2012 Lethargy
What's more lame, my gymped out knee or this tour rat strip?
Chuck ate something nasty and's got the shits again. I'm exhausted and my knee just blows. This place reminds me of a low-scale Waikiki Beach. Swarming with d-bags the world over. The entire strip where we've landed is cramped with hybrid restaurant/bungalow/dive shops. Makes sense business wise, but the way in which they're packed together is just heinous. Some neat concepts none-the-less. Several creative beach loungers, raised and roofed bamboo dining platforms, a bar whose stools are submerged in a wading pool. It's almost romantic but I'm here with my brother not a girlfriend.
As I said before I'm exhausted and the knee is buggin'. No way to enjoy the two main attractions here, namely snorkeling and/or renting a bike for a cruise around the island. Just pass the day sleeping a lot, strolling a little. I'll have to return in better condition.
Chuck ate something nasty and's got the shits again. I'm exhausted and my knee just blows. This place reminds me of a low-scale Waikiki Beach. Swarming with d-bags the world over. The entire strip where we've landed is cramped with hybrid restaurant/bungalow/dive shops. Makes sense business wise, but the way in which they're packed together is just heinous. Some neat concepts none-the-less. Several creative beach loungers, raised and roofed bamboo dining platforms, a bar whose stools are submerged in a wading pool. It's almost romantic but I'm here with my brother not a girlfriend.
As I said before I'm exhausted and the knee is buggin'. No way to enjoy the two main attractions here, namely snorkeling and/or renting a bike for a cruise around the island. Just pass the day sleeping a lot, strolling a little. I'll have to return in better condition.
Tuesday, September 11, 2012
8/21/2012 Rinjani3
Do you wanna watch the sunrise from Puncak Rinjani? Wake up at 2am chump!
Last night's sunset did not impress as the night before. Crater's Rim proved too high for any fiery action. In order to make the peak one must hike for three hours. Sunrise is at six, hence the early start.
A train of headlamps ascends into the darkness. Rinjani's profile is inky black against deepest blue sky. Far above on steep slopes, headlamps wink, mimicking stellar bodies light years beyond. In these dark conditions the two are easily confused.
We're scrambling over volcanic gravel that runs deep under foot. There is no purchase, every step sinks back to original position. With such a steep slope the trek is akin to climbing the largest sand dune in hell. I can't do it. I don't normally do this but I'm totally drained. Fuck it. I can watch the sunrise from here. Bundle up against relentless wind and wait it out. A hour passes. Slowly, light comes to the land. One moment the east is all orange-on-fire, and then, *bling*, the tip of solar disk hurdles horizon.
Well enough. Get me off this damnable slope. I'm drained. Descent is like skiing through rubble and ash. What took two hours to climb takes hardly an hour to reverse. Breakfast, break camp, tips for the porters and we're headed for exit.
Immediately my knee begins to fail me. Odd this time it's my right, not my usual left. This does not bode well. Frenchman in our group kindly loans his walking stick without which I would surely have failed. The going is impossibly slow. Steep, rocky slope is excruciating, exacerbating a sore joint to no end. Brother Chuck patiently walks behind, offering support both physical and moral. Fortunately we're headed for the other park post which is nearer. A journey that should take three hours takes me six. Climate on this side of the mountain is much drier, yielding more open, expansive views. Interesting, the variety of terrain encountered on this trek.
Finally we make the base. Cram into truck for ride back to Senaru. Pick up our gear and part ways with companions, probably never to be seen again. Taxi to harbor, haggle with the captain, slow boat to Gili Trawangan. Desperate search for a room, an accommodating place found, dinner, settle in for the night and promptly pass out. To think I was choking down volcanic dust just this morning.
Last night's sunset did not impress as the night before. Crater's Rim proved too high for any fiery action. In order to make the peak one must hike for three hours. Sunrise is at six, hence the early start.
A train of headlamps ascends into the darkness. Rinjani's profile is inky black against deepest blue sky. Far above on steep slopes, headlamps wink, mimicking stellar bodies light years beyond. In these dark conditions the two are easily confused.
We're scrambling over volcanic gravel that runs deep under foot. There is no purchase, every step sinks back to original position. With such a steep slope the trek is akin to climbing the largest sand dune in hell. I can't do it. I don't normally do this but I'm totally drained. Fuck it. I can watch the sunrise from here. Bundle up against relentless wind and wait it out. A hour passes. Slowly, light comes to the land. One moment the east is all orange-on-fire, and then, *bling*, the tip of solar disk hurdles horizon.
Well enough. Get me off this damnable slope. I'm drained. Descent is like skiing through rubble and ash. What took two hours to climb takes hardly an hour to reverse. Breakfast, break camp, tips for the porters and we're headed for exit.
Immediately my knee begins to fail me. Odd this time it's my right, not my usual left. This does not bode well. Frenchman in our group kindly loans his walking stick without which I would surely have failed. The going is impossibly slow. Steep, rocky slope is excruciating, exacerbating a sore joint to no end. Brother Chuck patiently walks behind, offering support both physical and moral. Fortunately we're headed for the other park post which is nearer. A journey that should take three hours takes me six. Climate on this side of the mountain is much drier, yielding more open, expansive views. Interesting, the variety of terrain encountered on this trek.
Finally we make the base. Cram into truck for ride back to Senaru. Pick up our gear and part ways with companions, probably never to be seen again. Taxi to harbor, haggle with the captain, slow boat to Gili Trawangan. Desperate search for a room, an accommodating place found, dinner, settle in for the night and promptly pass out. To think I was choking down volcanic dust just this morning.
8/20/2012 Rinjani2
Up before dawn for breakfast and then hike again. Sunrise before the rim, not nearly as majestic as last night's show. Crater Rim proves awe inspiring. Such a massive explosion to create this spectacle.
Short break before descent to crater lake. Steepest downhill I've ever traversed. Outlandish grade against sheer cliff walls. I'm amazed. How did this trail ever get formed to begin with? How do these porter's face such a brutal course? And who in their right mind hauled the concrete necessary to cement metal hand rails in place? I'm really appreciating these heros today.
The lake is sublime. To think it's all rain water, perhaps thousands of years worth of build up. To one side it spills its banks. River cascading over super heated volcanic rock produces natural jacuzzis where it pools. The water is opaque with microorganisms. Eugh. We strip down for a dip. Hot water and hot sun combine to form unbearable heat. No use pretending to enjoy this onslaught, it's too extreme. Maybe at night with cool moon overhead the cloudy water could be properly enjoyed.
Lunch, again the typical carb overload. Then bid adieu to the lake as we make our approach to Puncak (poon-chahk) Rinjani (Rinjani's summit.) Clouds swirl pass with rising hot air. The way is endless and treacherously steep, I'm falling behind. All that ambition from yesterday is yielding negative returns. Should have maintained my reserves. Body is burning fumes at this point, can't keep up with desire of the mind. Not yet aware of how hard my knee will fail. Camp at flats before final ascent. We'll wake at wee hours tomorrow to breach the summit, watch the sun rise. It's late afternoon. Find some shade and pass out. So outta shape. Despite the pain this is good for me. Body, mind, and soul.
Short break before descent to crater lake. Steepest downhill I've ever traversed. Outlandish grade against sheer cliff walls. I'm amazed. How did this trail ever get formed to begin with? How do these porter's face such a brutal course? And who in their right mind hauled the concrete necessary to cement metal hand rails in place? I'm really appreciating these heros today.
The lake is sublime. To think it's all rain water, perhaps thousands of years worth of build up. To one side it spills its banks. River cascading over super heated volcanic rock produces natural jacuzzis where it pools. The water is opaque with microorganisms. Eugh. We strip down for a dip. Hot water and hot sun combine to form unbearable heat. No use pretending to enjoy this onslaught, it's too extreme. Maybe at night with cool moon overhead the cloudy water could be properly enjoyed.
Lunch, again the typical carb overload. Then bid adieu to the lake as we make our approach to Puncak (poon-chahk) Rinjani (Rinjani's summit.) Clouds swirl pass with rising hot air. The way is endless and treacherously steep, I'm falling behind. All that ambition from yesterday is yielding negative returns. Should have maintained my reserves. Body is burning fumes at this point, can't keep up with desire of the mind. Not yet aware of how hard my knee will fail. Camp at flats before final ascent. We'll wake at wee hours tomorrow to breach the summit, watch the sun rise. It's late afternoon. Find some shade and pass out. So outta shape. Despite the pain this is good for me. Body, mind, and soul.
Sunday, September 09, 2012
Mountain Tough
Hard Like Lombok
Made In Indonesia
Sublime Rinjani
Jungle Thickery
Roots Maneuver
Above the Tree Line
Clouds Roll. Sun Burns
Scarlet Stain
The Golden Rose
Moon Over Agung
Good Night Rinjani
8/19/2012 Rinjani1
A series of miscommunications.
First off Taxi man was supposed to pick us up at six so we set our alarms for 5:15, hoping for plenty of prep time. Five minutes before alarms ring the front desk calls to inform of taxi's arrival. WTF? Again we must scramble to depart only to find the driver has to pick up another couple down the road, a couple who were misinformed about departure time as well. So we were delayed. Taxi ride to Senaru was haphazard, driver had a death wish. We were dropped off at a guest house and made to wait while the Muslims prayed. Last night was the conclusion of Ramadan so many were out late partying. Hours pass. In light of all this we're wondering, why the early pick up?
People of many nationalities shamble in. Whereas I thought we purchased a private trek we were being lumped into a larger group. Nobody seemed to know what was going on. Finally we were fed breakfast, packed into a truck and hauled off to the park entrance. From there our multinational trek team set off. Up at five to start hiking at eleven. Seems absurdly unorganized to me.
Three posts to conquer before crater rim. We tackle the first one with ease, up a slight grade into thick jungle foliage. Dense root structures serve as steps up ever steepening slopes.
There's a communication error. Our porters have not been organized. They are carrying all our sleeping gear, food, and extra water. If they don't show we can't spend the night. Our guide asks us to wait. His phone is dead so he can't contact his boss. He asks a guide headed in the other direction to find out if porters are coming and, get this, to call him. *facepalm* His Phone Isn't Working! We all know this, but somehow he has forgotten. This is not a communication gap. This is an intelligence failure. Somehow one of our crew gets reception on his iPhone. Call the boss. Porters on their way. When will they be here? Didn't ask. Fuckin' idiot.
I marshall for a movement. Guide is trying to get us to wait for porters arrival so they can prepare our lunch. Why do we have to have lunch? We haven't done shit! We convince guide to release us and I make tracks. Frustrated, I pound out the trail, just can't stand the stasis. I'm failing to pace myself which will burn me later but I just can't sit still. Hothead obscures foresight.
Porters catch up to us at second post. They set about making lunch. It takes forever. They feed us buckets of rice, which just seems dumb. Don't these people know how to hike? We need light-weight, high impact food such as nuts and berries. Granola bars would be good. And juice.
Whatever. Onward. I reach Post 3 with ease. If we had started at seven (realistic for waking up at five) we'd have certainly made this point by lunch. By now it's 4:30. Again there's some confusion. I ask around, some say this is post three, others say it's farther up. I'm still impatient, frustrated with poor organization, so I carry on to investigate. About an hour later I'm out of the trees and the slope is getting really steep. And dusty. We're above the clouds and the setting sun is lighting everything up in this most sublime scarlet hue. Picture perfect. Above the rim looms but we're being asked to go back. Apparently the rest of the group is setting up camp at Post 3, which is indeed where it was originally said to be. Backtrack to camp, dinner in the dark, stars are brilliant. To bed.
First off Taxi man was supposed to pick us up at six so we set our alarms for 5:15, hoping for plenty of prep time. Five minutes before alarms ring the front desk calls to inform of taxi's arrival. WTF? Again we must scramble to depart only to find the driver has to pick up another couple down the road, a couple who were misinformed about departure time as well. So we were delayed. Taxi ride to Senaru was haphazard, driver had a death wish. We were dropped off at a guest house and made to wait while the Muslims prayed. Last night was the conclusion of Ramadan so many were out late partying. Hours pass. In light of all this we're wondering, why the early pick up?
People of many nationalities shamble in. Whereas I thought we purchased a private trek we were being lumped into a larger group. Nobody seemed to know what was going on. Finally we were fed breakfast, packed into a truck and hauled off to the park entrance. From there our multinational trek team set off. Up at five to start hiking at eleven. Seems absurdly unorganized to me.
Three posts to conquer before crater rim. We tackle the first one with ease, up a slight grade into thick jungle foliage. Dense root structures serve as steps up ever steepening slopes.
There's a communication error. Our porters have not been organized. They are carrying all our sleeping gear, food, and extra water. If they don't show we can't spend the night. Our guide asks us to wait. His phone is dead so he can't contact his boss. He asks a guide headed in the other direction to find out if porters are coming and, get this, to call him. *facepalm* His Phone Isn't Working! We all know this, but somehow he has forgotten. This is not a communication gap. This is an intelligence failure. Somehow one of our crew gets reception on his iPhone. Call the boss. Porters on their way. When will they be here? Didn't ask. Fuckin' idiot.
I marshall for a movement. Guide is trying to get us to wait for porters arrival so they can prepare our lunch. Why do we have to have lunch? We haven't done shit! We convince guide to release us and I make tracks. Frustrated, I pound out the trail, just can't stand the stasis. I'm failing to pace myself which will burn me later but I just can't sit still. Hothead obscures foresight.
Porters catch up to us at second post. They set about making lunch. It takes forever. They feed us buckets of rice, which just seems dumb. Don't these people know how to hike? We need light-weight, high impact food such as nuts and berries. Granola bars would be good. And juice.
Whatever. Onward. I reach Post 3 with ease. If we had started at seven (realistic for waking up at five) we'd have certainly made this point by lunch. By now it's 4:30. Again there's some confusion. I ask around, some say this is post three, others say it's farther up. I'm still impatient, frustrated with poor organization, so I carry on to investigate. About an hour later I'm out of the trees and the slope is getting really steep. And dusty. We're above the clouds and the setting sun is lighting everything up in this most sublime scarlet hue. Picture perfect. Above the rim looms but we're being asked to go back. Apparently the rest of the group is setting up camp at Post 3, which is indeed where it was originally said to be. Backtrack to camp, dinner in the dark, stars are brilliant. To bed.
Saturday, September 08, 2012
8/18/2012 Bummer Laze
Today proved disappointing as the snorkeling I was so eager to attempt failed to materialize. The experts at Dream Divers straight up told us the snorkeling in Singgigi is bunk and that we'd be best served on the Gili Islands. We took to the beach instead for a lazy day in the sun. The ocean was flat and a bit cold. Chuck and I alternated between swimming and watching our gear on shore. The white sand was littered with the decimated remains of sea shells, some peculiar specimens yielding fortuitous breakage that revealed aesthetic spiral structure within. I collected a few samples as keep sakes to remember my time on Lombok.
Hawkers of useless swag accost us on the streets of Singgigi. One guy is selling a rice farmer's hat, akin to the one worn by Raiden from Mortal Kombat (oh, yeah, you know what I'm talkin' 'bout.) I've always desired such a garment but could never find one of desirable proportions. I was able to haggle it down to under half his asking price, again by simply walking away from the conversation. Much to my chagrin I found the same item in the grocery store for 20,000rp (about $2) less. I'm feeling a bit the chump. Later more haggling ensued, yielding a necklace with pendant carved from bone and a woven bracelet bearing black fresh water pearls. Cheap trinkets. Fly, none-the-less.
The most positive development of the day manifested in the form of a promising vacation package. Tomorrow we are to be picked up at our hotel and driven to the base camp of Gunung Rinjani. We are to ascend until dusk, make camp at crater's rim and proceed the next day. Camp at lake shore, swim and relax, early to bed for night hike to Rinjani's peak. Pictures at dawn (praying for clear skies) and long haul back to base camp. Ride to harbor for fast boat to Gili Trawangan. On our own for a day and a half before fast boat to Benoa Harbor in Bali. Hotel in Kuta, fly to JakeTown early morning after. With the few remaining days we'll have a chance to visit Pulau Seribu (Thousand Islands), but we'll burn that bridge when we come to it like the pack of raving bandits we are! Hya!
Thursday, September 06, 2012
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