How my son found meaningful connections on a Mount Rinjani hike

SINGAPORE – In early May, with four of his friends, my son went to Lombok, Indonesia, to scale Mount Rinjani.

Mount Rinjani stands at 3,726m tall. It is not the highest mountain in the world, but the terrain is known to be tough, as one has to navigate loose volcanic gravel in the last lap towards the summit. Aspiring climbers often struggle to make a little progress, advancing two steps forward and sliding one step back.

It was a three-day, two-night expedition and my son and his friends clocked about 33 walking hours in total. He described the climb as a well-rounded itinerary, covering a summit push and a descent to the crater lake.

He said the physical exhaustion was worth it, just to catch the breathtaking view at the top and soak in the scattered, sulphur-rich geothermal Aik Kalak hot springs.

My son’s hike came on the heels of the unfortunate tragedy at Mount Dukono, which erupted on May 8. Three hikers did not make it home, two of whom were Singaporeans. For context, Mount Rinjani and Mount Dukono are on different islands hundreds of kilometres apart.

I asked my son how he felt about the news and he told me it was painful to hear. He could understand the draw and the risks involved. It is definitely a struggle to say no to the final lap of the climb, when one is so close to the end point.

Starting off

My son’s hike started with a rough lorry ride from Senaru in the early hours of the morning. Senaru is a picturesque village situated 600m above sea level on the northern slopes of Mount Rinjani.

One of the high points of his trip was meeting people from different places. He and his friends were grouped with young hikers from Sweden, France and Hong Kong. Conversation flowed naturally from the start, revolving around topics like culture and language, and furniture retailer Ikea.

After a routine medical check-up to ensure all were physically fit, they were introduced to their two seasoned guides. Randy and Jong have been scaling Mount Rinjani since their teenage years.

There were times when members of the group could not keep up, but Randy and Jong were always watching out for them, prodding them along. Even going without sleep on the first night, they remained vigilant. The climbers were indeed in good hands, my son said.

At 9am, arriving at the starting point known as G-Rinjani via Kandang Sapi, which translates as “cow stable”, the eager trekkers were told to put their mobile phones away to cut down on unnecessary distractions. I suppose it was safer that way, since the arduous ascent would be physically demanding.

Although my son occasionally encountered lumps of cow dung en route, the first day was smooth as the terrain was relatively flat. At the end of day one, they set up camp at 8pm and rested. They managed to catch a glorious sunset and the view was awe-inspiring.

At night, under the expanse of the clear skies, my son took out his phone and shot the stars with the Milky Way as the backdrop. That night, they had only five hours of sleep because they had to wake up at 2am to set off.

Summit push

On day two, the climb soon started to resemble running on a very loose treadmill belt, with one making little headway. Physical fatigue soon set in as they pushed on to overcome the slippery volcanic-ash slope.

My son recalled that his legs were very sore as he had been on an incline for four hours.

The temperature fell to 2 deg C and the hikers had to brace themselves for the chilly wind. My son started to question whether he would be able to complete the climb.

He and his friends pressed on until they reached section E.

This is the start of the final challenging summit climb from Sembalun Crater Rim to Mount Rinjani’s peak.

Conquering the mountain

At this point, my son told me he sat on a rock and started to think about us, his parents, with particular fondness. He captured the moment with a panoramic video sweep of the summit. I could sense he missed us a lot at that height.

As he fought back tears, he said: “I’m not sure why, but it could be the lack of distractions from the phone that got me thinking. I became so appreciative of my parents for raising me up and showing me unconditional love, moulding me into the person I am today.”

The timing was perfect when they made it to the top just before sunrise. He took some pictures of the golden sun rising above the horizon.

During their descent, they visited hot springs and saw a beautiful lake known as Danau Segara Anak or “Child of the Sea”. They chatted freely about life and challenged one another to solve riddles.

That night, my son told me he had the best sleep of the whole trip, a total of nine hours, waking up at 7am to continue their descent down Mount Rinjani before parting ways.

I find myself going back to what he said about the lack of distractions on the mountain. Being freed from these led my son to reflect on what matters in his life and he was grateful for it.

The lesson here is to be more attentive to what is happening around us and to what matters in the long arc of relationship-building. We do this by engaging more in face-to-face conversations.

I recall a quote attributed to British philosopher and author Alain de Botton: “True love is a lack of desire to check one’s smartphone in another’s presence.” 

Instead of reaching for the phone to pass the time, my son reminded me that I should hold on to the time we have and make full use of it, whenever the opportunity avails itself. 

The last thing I want to do is to look back and realise I have doomscrolled a major part of my life away. 

Technology often enchants. But if I fail to make use of it wisely to deepen connections, it is no more than an entrapment to lull me into autopilot mode.

Although my son had to forgo Wi-Fi while he was scaling Mount Rinjani, he found connection in more meaningful ways. I feel it has made him more vulnerable and humane. 

• Michael Han is a father of three and managing partner of a legal firm.