The Wrath of Mt. Merapi

Why did we decide to climb the most active volcano in Indonesia, which is nearly 3000 m tall and spews smoke more than 300 days a year? LIES. They were all lies. According to Lonely Planet, climbing Mount Merapi is "manageable by anyone with a reasonable level of fitness." Believing this, the 3 other volunteers and I signed up for a Mount Merapi trek. So, this is the story of the volunteers vs. Mt. Merapi.

On Friday night at 8 PM, we took a taxi into the city of Yogyakarta to eat a late dinner and get some energy for our hike. We were naively very excited and couldn't wait to start. At 10 PM, we met the trois garcons francais (3 french boys) who would be joining us on the trek. The 7 of us squeezed into a car and started the nauseating drive to Selo, the village at the base of the mountain where we would start hiking. I'm not sure how it happened because I am not the smallest one in the group, but I ended up in the middle of the backseat trying not to have a panic attack from feeling claustrophobic. Nearly 2 hours later, we arrived at the town and met the 12 other hikers (all Europeans, all serious hiking people) and 5 guides who would be joining us on the trek. We all sat down and enjoyed a warm cup of tea before embarking on our journey (it was actually very chilly in this area).


At the beginning, when we had yet to discover the difficulties awaiting us:

At 1 AM, we started the 4 1/2 hour trek to the top. It was steeper than expected but not too difficult yet. We stopped to rest after only about 45 minutes and then continued on. But by the second resting point, I was already drenched in sweat even though the air was cool. I started cussing myself out for not splurging on a headlamp, because holding onto a flashlight while trying to grab onto rocks and climb up a mountain is quite difficult. Derek, one of the volunteers, could tell I was struggling a lot and he let me use his headlamp. While everyone's pace probably stayed the same, to me it felt like we were running up the mountain at some points. The guides were not as helpful as they should have been, and sometimes I wanted to stop and catch my breath but couldn't because I was afraid that I would get too far behind and wouldn't be able to find the way. At one point this German girl was really helpful and stayed behind with me so I wouldn't get lost, and I also had to yell for Derek once to make him go slower and climb with me. When we were about an hour away from the top, the terrain changed significantly, so now we were preparing to climb sheer rockface. I was so exhausted, and one of the guides held my hand for the rest of the way up, sometimes pulling me up over ridiculously steep volcanic rocks that can easily start crumbling. I was obviously picked out as one of the weaklings of the group and suffered a little bit of ego damage from this, but I was also just happy that the guides were actually doing their jobs. So a little before 5:30 AM, by some miracle of God, we reached the top of the wretched mountain.

The 7 of us (4 volunteers + 3 French boys) at the top of the mountain. We look happy. It must have been the delirium setting in...

Resting at the top was less than satisfactory. The mountain was spewing out some kind of sulfurous gas that made me feel some nausea on top of exhaustion. It was also freezing at the top; even with my fleece jacket my teeth were chattering. While the sunrise was pretty, it was a cloudy day so we couldn't even see very far from the mountain. Also, who could rest calmly knowing that the only way down the mountain was either to hike or to be airlifted out by a helicopter? (yeah, we actually asked...)

Sunrise


Me + sulfurous gas coming out of the mountain:
Let me call your attention to another interesting aspect of the climb: going to the bathroom. Now I'm used to squatting and don't have any qualms about doing so out in nature, something I learned from some of my adventures in Bali. But modesty was a little hard to keep in this situation. Going far away from the group and climbing over a lot of rocks was not something that I really wanted to do, partially for fear of getting lost from the group, and because I didn't want to fall down somewhere by myself. So let's just say if I hadn't lost all my dignity from having my hand held to reach the top of the mountain, this is where I lost the rest of it-- by probably unintentionally mooning half of the other hikers.

As most hikers probably know, the trek down a mountain doesn't take as long as the climb, but it is often more challenging. Trying not to slide down the crumbling volcanic rock while still making substantial progress can be very difficult. My hands became red and worn from grabbing rocks, tree roots, or anything in my path to hang on for dear life. My back ached from hunching over, trying to keep balanced and prepared in case I started slipping. After awhile, I realized I was no longer able to straighten my legs, and my knees felt as if they might snap. It wasn't just me feeling like this though-- the other volunteers were also struggling a lot, and a couple of them are actually somewhat experienced hikers. We finally reached the bottom of the mountain at 10 AM, which means that the entire hike took us 9 hours. At that point, I was happy to be alive.

Loose, crumbly volcanic rock:

But it wasn't quite over yet. I had to endure the ride back to the city stuffed in the back of that car, with that driver hugging the turns on the road from the mountain. By the time we got back to our homestays, it was 12:30 PM that day. We had even considered getting a hotel room for the day just so we could enjoy a hot shower, but eventually decided that it would be best just to bathe with cold water at home and go to sleep right away. As I was trying to rest, I kept feeling as if I were climbing a mountain, putting one foot in front of the other on loose volcanic rock. Luckily I got some decent rest before dinner.

Just as our host mom was bringing us dinner that night, I heard a rumbling sound and everything in the house started shaking. It seems so obvious now that it was an earthquake, but I was really confused at the time. It was a really quick earthquake; it only lasted about 5 seconds, but we all went outside to wait and make sure it was over. As we were in the street, Felicity (another volunteer at my homestay) said to me, "What if that had happened while we were climbing Mount Merapi.....?"

Book I'm reading: Cat's Cradle by Kurt Vonnegut