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Mt Agung - I Walked On Your FACE!

Karangasem, Bali
Apr 1, 2015
6 min read

At over 3,000 meters, Mt Agung is not only the highest and holiest point in Bali, but it is also a live volcano. Mt Agung’s proximity to heaven makes it home to the gods for the Balinese people. Climbing it is essentially a spiritual pilgrimage for those living in its shadow. During my trip preparation, as I gazed upon incredible photographs of gorgeous views peeking out from behind the smiling faces of victorious climbers, I knew that I had to make that same pilgrimage to the summit myself.

Mt Agung covered in clouds

Through my hotel in Karangasem, eastern Bali, I arranged for a local guide to come and meet me at the hotel at 2am. The plan was to climb through the night with the aim of reaching the summit in time for the sunrise at approximately 07:30am. That night I barely got any sleep as I tossed and turned over the challenge that lay waiting for me only a few hours away.

At 01:45am, naturally I was wide awake when I heard a car pull into the hotel drive. Jumping out of bed, I put on my best “climbing clothes” - the only sporty clothes I brought with me on my holiday: sports bra, t-shirt, hoodie, yoga pants and running shoes, and, blurry-eyed headed out to meet the driver.

His name was Wayan (like a majority of people in Bali) and he had been climbing Mt Agung for over nine years. We hopped in his rusty Jeep and made our way to the mountain, zig-zagging up the narrow crumbling roads, trying to avoid the stray dogs sleeping on the road in an attempt to stay cool in the Balinese evening heat.

By 02.30am we had arrive at the gates of Pura Pasar Agung Temple. We would have to walk around the temple to reach the dirt path that led up Mt Agung. Parking the jeep, Wayan handed me a tiny headlamp, which would be my only source of light for the next 5 hours. We then climbed the temple’s giant stone steps. Upon reaching the temple gates and only 20 minutes into the adventure, I was already panting like a woman in labor and my quads were screaming - not a good start. But, not wanting to alarm Wayan that I may not be cut out for this volcano-hiking malarky, I put on my best “be cool” demeanour.

Rocking the jungle-chic headlamp. Like a boss.

Wayan dug out a traditional Balinese offering from his hiking pack: a banana leave box, flowers and incense. He lit and handed me a stick of incense and invited me to join him in offering to the gods to ensure our journey up and down Mt Agung would be a safe one. And with my old knees and dodgy back, I needed all the help I could get, so without hesitation I joined him cross-legged on the ground and together we went through the offerings ritual I had watched many times since my arrival to Bali two weeks earlier. Once finished, Wayan left an energy bar as a gift for the gods, which I thought was very appropriate, and we headed off into the darkness.

The path was initially a dirt one with a gentle incline. At the time, I lulled myself into a false sense of security that, “this wasn’t so bad”. Au contraire, as the French would say.

Eventually the dirt path gave way to football-sized loose rocks, which in narrow beam of my headlamp took some careful manoeuvring as one foot wrong could mean disaster and have you rolling off the side of the mountain. We stopped several times along the way - for me to get rest and water and for Wayan to “pee pee”, one of the only English phrases he knew. This phrase became one of the most crucial in our climb, as in his role as my guide, I would automatically follow wherever he would lead, even if occasional he was scurrying behind a boulder to heed nature’s call. So quickly on I learned that when he said those two magic words, I would stop in my tracks and wait in the darkness until he came back.

After three hours we reached a small clearing with a break in the clouds. Seeing the flickering lights of the island below, I could understand why the Balinese consider Mt Agung to be the home of the gods, for it was like we were hovering above the stars, looking down from heaven.

Blurry Bali

As we turned to make our way back up the mountain, almost as if on queue, the heavens opened and the rain began to pour. Seeking shelter under a boulder, we put our packs down and dug out our rain gear: Wayan had a woolly cap, and I a not-so-waterproof windbreaker. Checking on the rain from under the boulder, Wayan asked me if I wanted to carry on or turn back. I did the math: we had been climbing for just under three hours, there were just over three hours to the summit and sunrise was in three and a half hours. I asked, “It’s probably just as dangerous climbing down a wet mountain as going up it, right?”. Wayan nodded. “In that case, I’m in if you are?”. With that, we about-faced and we continued our climb, the only sound the rain pounding the leaves and rocks around us.

Wayan assessing the weather.

The sky had gone from pitch black to deep purple to dark blue. The sun was on its way and I was still determined to greet it from the summit of Mt Agung. Suddenly I saw movement down below. I had trouble making out the figures due to the mist that started to form around the volcano. Then it hit me - gorillas - in the mist - literally! “Don’t look them in the eye,” Wayan warned. “They will tear your face off.” And with that, we continued on our silent march, eyes down.

The sun is a-comin'!

The rocks had grown considerably in size as we scaled them up the side of the mountain. A beautiful ridge was to the left, and to the right I could almost make out the island of Lombok. “We’re almost there!” Wayan said excitedly, almost like he was surprised I made it this far. With this knowledge, I must have gained my second wind because I felt a surge of energy go through me as I scurried up the boulders.

"Almost there!"

Using the last of my strength, I climbed another boulder and was wholly unprepared for what was waiting for me on the other side. Instead of looking up for more to climb, I was now looking down a giant crater of unimaginable depth. It was so surreal, for a split-second I thought I was staring at a painting. Just then sunlight started to peek over the horizon, illuminating the red-streaked walls of the crater and exposing its true glory. I made it! I sat on a flat rock and surveyed the horizon before me in silence. As the sunrise washed over me, I no longer noticed my sore muscles and tired body, nor was I concerned about the six hour trek back down the volcano. That moment, sat on top of the world gazing over those glorious islands with the rising sun in my face, was perfect.

The crater of Mt Agung

Wayan poured me some delicious Balinese coffee he had been carrying in a thermos and we sat in silence looking out over the ocean and surrounding islands. There was a small shrine built at the top of Mt Agung where I sat and thanked the gods for helping me make it to the summit safely and just in time to see the most amazing sunset I’ve ever seen. I then asked an additional favour of letting me make it back down in one piece.