Our journey to Mount Batur in Bali began in the early hours of the morning. At 3.30 AM, we climbed into the back of a truck and
rattled our way across the old lava fields. The headlights of the truck lit up the sandy volcanic track, a reminder of the volcano’s fiery past. The open-air ride felt wild and raw, and our very enthusiastic group of six women were thrilled to have discovered this 30% shorter trekking option, away from the crowds. Ganesh, our guide, informed us that this route has been in operation only since 2020 and is the traditional temple path still used by locals. It turned out to be the less touristy option indeed, as we saw only one other group of local climbers on our 1.5-hour climb to the top.
By 4 AM, we were standing at the base of the mountain, switching on our headlamps and tightening our backpacks. The night sky was ablaze with an endless blanket of stars, heralded by an overwhelming silence. No birds, no noise, just the vast luminous night sky. We started on the trail, no crowds, no chatter, as Ganesh and Rama, our sprightly and steadfast trekking guides, led the way.
The climb unfolded in four stages.
The first section consisted of soft volcanic sand and a steady climbing grade that required us to work harder than expected, as we sank slightly with every step. The second stage transitioned into rock scrambling, requiring us to use our hands as well as our feet to pull ourselves up in certain sections. The third section levelled out into a steady track, a welcome relief where we could breathe a little easier. The last stage was the hardest: a steep grade that demanded focus and determination. However, it was short and very manageable.
I was expecting the trail to be a much more challenging climb, and in anticipation, I had strapped on my knee brace to handle any ‘poor me knee syndrome’ that sometimes appears when I stress my knees. However, the Batur climb was no trouble. I found the whole experience very meditative, and got into a good, steady rhythm and flow, guided by the solid, steady beam of my headlamp, this enormous cover of glittering stars, and the occasional comet above.
Up ahead was Ganesh, who somehow managed to play the guitar while walking, and the soft tunes and guitar strumming provided a lovely aural accompaniment in the still darkness. I marvelled at how he could navigate rocks, climb, and play guitar in the dark! As I pressed on, at my own snail’s pace (being 64 years old, I am legally allowed to go at this pace), I lost myself in time and space, with the strumming guitar leading the way.
Soon enough, we reached the lower summit. It was 5.45 AM, right on time. While three intrepid hikers forged onward to the ultimate peak, following the guitar guide, three of us stayed on the lower peak and took our rest, watching the sunrise unfold from this vantage point.
The horizon had just begun to glow, and slowly the darkness gave way to light, as the sky unfolded into shades of soft orange, dusty pink, and a vibrant golden aura. Below us, jewel-toned Lake Batur appeared, and low clouds and haze drifted mystically from the far east. A magical moment.
In the distance, Mount Abang stood proud, and Mount Agung rose tall behind it, its brother, reaching its grand, stately 3,100 metres and cutting a sharp outline against the morning sky. Unlike the crowded ridge opposite, with around 500 sunrise tourists on the commercial route, our high point was peaceful. We had an empty space to sit on the warm volcanic earth (yes, Mount Batur is an active volcano), and we simply tuned into the breath and took it all in in meditative silence.
After soaking in the sunrise, it was time for our ‘mountain breakfast’, prepared in the most unusual kitchen I’ve ever seen. Fresh farm eggs, corn on the cob, and sweet potatoes were placed into the earth, in a small fumarole hole, which was actually a vent in the ground where hot steam escaped from the volcano. Within half an hour, our food was cooked. We ate sitting on the summit at 1,700 metres, with our piping-hot eggs, succulent local corn baked in the earth, and sweet potatoes rich in flavour. It was the kind of meal that tasted better because of where we were, and the unique way it was made in our earth oven. Plus, it was delivered on a fancy silver tray!
Over breakfast, we learned about the local conservation projects, including the tree-planting initiative. Ganesh explained that 2,500 trees had already been planted by his environmental organisation, and then presented our group with a baby banyan tree.
“Our gift to the mountain, in honour of nature, peace for the earth, and as humans, our relationship and respect for the environment”, he said with genuine sincerity.
Then, Ganesh led us in a blessing and a Balinese ritual, accompanied by flowers and incense. His words were practical, not preachy, and listening to them made me realise that this climb wasn’t just about reaching the top, it was about understanding and valuing the importance of spending time in wild and remote places, in the elements, and greeting every new day with a newfound respect and appreciation for nature.
The descent was easier in daylight. The path revealed itself clearly: sandy stretches, jagged rocks, and open ridges. Our route, the road less travelled, made the mountain feel personal, rather than just another stop on a busy itinerary. By mid-morning, after slipping and sliding our way down the trail, we were back at the base and ready for the final part of the experience.
We chose the add-on option, and 15 minutes later, we were at the natural hot springs on the shores of Lake Batur. The thermal pools were almost too warm at first, but the soothing effects soon took over. I sank in up to my shoulders, letting my muscles relax as thermal water steamed around me. From the edge of the pool, I could see the stunning mountains rising from the lake’s calm, clear waters. It was a perfect way to close the journey.
When I looked back at the mountain one last time, I felt grateful. The climb had not been just a physical challenge; it had been a genuine opportunity to connect with the land through blessings, earthy food, conversations, and quiet stillness. Mount Batur gave me more than a view. It gave me a new perspective.
Writer’s note:
During her adventure as described above, the writer used the services of a tour guide company named Jack and The Team Mount Batur Trekking and Guiding. This company offers environmental trips through the mountains, waterfalls, and temples. Readers can contact them via WhatsApp +6287863362289 or Instagram @ b a g a w a t a f r o m b a l i ( Tr e k k i n g Organisation) and @mendakipohon (Tree Planting Community).
Story by Dewi Aroha
Photos are courtesy of Tryptomina.
