*This is the third chapter of the previous article.
At 5 AM, my group was already awake. More accurately, we had sat up after lying down without a good night’s sleep. I asked Kintan how she had slept last night, and I also asked Puput and Ari. It turned out they couldn’t sleep either because they were disturbed by the noise of that loud group. With my voice raised two octaves, I teased about how great the laughter had been the night before. Hadn’t they slept before the climb? Or maybe they had just come down, feeling free from the burden of carrying their backpacks up the mountain?
As I made my comments loudly, two women from that noisy group glanced over at us. I responded with a glance while continuing to chatter away. I hoped my “message” got through. I wished that noisy group wouldn’t disturb others if they climbed again someday. This was the only form of “revenge” I could manage. I actually wanted to wish them ill, but fearing karma, I reluctantly settled for hoping the best for those who had disrupted our rest.
After breakfast, we did some repacking. We left behind the items we wouldn’t need up there at the basecamp. The facilities provided by Pak Ade were very friendly for climbers. For just Rp. 60,000 per person, we could stay, store our belongings, and take a shower there. Meals and drinks were also guaranteed, thanks to Ibu basecamp, Pak Ade’s wife, who was always ready to prepare them. But those costs were separate from the Rp. 60,000!
Finally, the backpacks were slung over our shoulders. Honestly, carrying a mountain backpack like this made me feel cool. It felt empowering, like a strong woman. Although it was heavy, that feeling motivated me to keep going until we reached our destination. Perhaps it could be likened to life: we need something that makes us feel special so that life feels lighter to navigate. Isn’t that right? Well, I’m just rambling.
Since everything was taken care of by Pak Ade, right at 6:30 AM on Saturday, we could set off without having to fill out paperwork at the Gunung Gede entrance. I was shocked when we were met with a traffic jam. Not of vehicles, but of people! The narrow path only fit two people, forcing us to walk in a line like a colony of ants moving houses. I hoped this was just at the beginning.
***
“UWOAH!” Kintan’s loud scream startled me and the others behind her. Other climbers, engrossed in their walk, almost slipped in surprise. “Crazy! Can we go back to basecamp?” Kintan continued. The rest of us just laughed in response. Despite her complaints, I was sure Kintan was still very strong. Even with her endless “uwoah” screams, she was still able to keep walking.
Our group’s formation kept changing. What started as everyone being together gradually broke apart. At the front were Puput, followed by Ibun, Adi, Kintan, me, Aldi, and Ari. The order unraveled naturally as our paces varied.
As I focused on the ground beneath my feet, I suddenly realized Puput, Adi, and Ibun were no longer in sight. Kintan, ahead of me, seemed unaware, focused instead on her effort to keep moving and regulate her breathing.
“Let’s take a short break,” Kintan said between breaths.
“Don’t stop too much, Tun. It’ll make it harder to continue. Try to stop every fifteen minutes. And don’t take too long. If you stop too long, it’ll just feel heavier and more tiring,” Ari advised. Kintan often took breaks to rest. It was no wonder, as the route to Surya Kencana via Putri was exhausting. Here, climbers truly experienced the phrase “knees meet chin.”
Carrying just a backpack required extra leg strength, especially with a carrier on my back. It felt like the heavy burdens of life we must carry and confront until the time is right to enjoy the beauty of our hard work.
I agreed with Ari’s method of stopping every fifteen minutes, but I had my own approach: counting each step while looking down at my feet. Usually, when I reached 100, I allowed myself a five-minute break before continuing.
“Counting steps is so boring. You won’t be able to focus. You’ll be tired just managing your breath,” Puput joked, which made everyone laugh. I nodded in agreement. But that method worked for me; when my brain felt overwhelmed, I kept it busy by counting. My fatigue seemed to be distracted by the sequence of numbers I whispered in my mind. That was my way. Everyone has their own method of self-motivation.
However, during this journey, I didn’t even reach my counting milestone of 100. Due to the congestion, our pace was extremely slow, so my breathing remained steady.
Yes, this trail was truly crowded. It felt like a traffic jam in the capital city of Jakarta every day. The difference was that this was a line of people with the same goal, clearly to enjoy the beauty of Gunung Gede. In my history of mountain climbing, this was the most astonishing crowd I had encountered.
“Yong, let’s stop for a bit. Let Kintan and Ari go ahead,” Aldi suggested quietly. I nodded and stepped aside to find a spot to lean against. Kintan and Ari continued walking after I mentioned I wanted to smoke for a moment.
“It feels even more tiring when you walk slowly. That’s why we should let Kintan and Ari go ahead, and we’ll catch up later,” Aldi explained once he sat next to me. While smoking, I watched my two friends continue ahead. Suddenly, I realized something: Kintan was the cause of the congestion on the trail. Her slow pace was holding back the climbers behind her.
Yet, despite moving slowly, Kintan continued without feeling the need to make space for those behind her to pass. It was no surprise that Aldi suggested stopping. The faces of those waiting behind Kintan were showing impatience. The only one who could keep up with her pace was Ari.
His stamina was certainly not in question. He regularly did trail running in the mountains and had climbed Gunung Gede multiple times. This journey wasn’t overly taxing for him. But out of loyalty to his friend, he patiently stayed behind Kintan.
As for my pace, it was average. My stamina was also average—not too strong, but not too weak either. My goal every time I climbed a mountain was simply to “enjoy.” Enjoying the beads of sweat flowing from my pores, coursing through my body. Enjoying the breath that raced as if competing with my feet. Enjoying the sounds of birds, crickets, and other cheerful creatures. Enjoying the cold, clean air I couldn’t breathe in the city. Enjoying the refreshing mineral water that soothed my throat as my heart pumped blood rapidly.
For the sake of this enjoyment, I chose to walk leisurely—neither rushing nor lingering.
To be continued
