Hi Gram,
My alarm clock jolted me awake at 2am, reminding me that I had signed up for a sunrise hike to the top of a volcano. I hit snooze once or twice, then reluctantly got out of bed for my morning routine. I met David and Samantha downstairs where we sat on the curb waiting for our driver. Oddly hungry for how early it was, we snacked a little and noted that this was the first time any of us had seen the restaurant across the street with closed doors. We didn’t even know that it had doors.

After the driver pulled up, we hugged Matthew and Amy then all piled in. The next hour was a blend of snacks, discussion, and watching the driver expertly navigate the narrow winding streets. We pulled up to the waterfront, the night still pitch dark, where our guides helped us to the boat. Once the tour guides had cast off and fired up the engine, we cruised across the water under a sky painted with stars. With so little light pollution, the Milky Way was vivid and bright. Soon we landed the boat on a makeshift beach and piled off one by one where we awaited instructions. The guides handed us each a bamboo walking stick, we turned on our headlamps, and started down a path into the woods.

The path quickly climbed and led us straight up the mountain. For the next while, the ground beneath our feet went from soft slippery dirt to “steps” carved out of rock to damp packed dirt. Every now and then, the leader would point out a spot where the path had washed away and dropped precipitously off the side. At one point, he pointed down to my left and said “don’t walk there or you go to water and we see you at the boat.” I chuckled a bit and squeezed myself to the right, away from the drop off.

Now in my mind, I am in good shape. I walk every day, I have my pain under control, I’ve come to know my limits. In my mind, I can do anything; it just might take me longer or maybe I’ll have to do things differently. In the reality of that morning, though, my lungs were on fire and my legs were starting to get shaky. I was not in the condition to walk straight up this hill, not ready for the changes in terrain and rocks, and not rested well enough to be where I was. I felt embarrassed that most of my group had trekked on ahead of me and I was struggling to keep up. I was angry that I had I not signed up for this, I could have been back in my bed. I felt sorry that the guide had to keep coming back to check on me and that I was slowing David, who was behind me, down. I was not enjoying this at all. The light started showing itself while my stops to catch my breath and balance got closer to each other.

Finally, we rounded a corner to see the top with our friends standing there. As well as a few other tourists. And a nice old woman with our breakfast. And scooters and a 4×4 truck! I just climbed for almost an hour up a sketchy trail with loose rocks and drop offs and someone could have just driven me up here??!? Sure, there was a tiny bit of pride in what we’d done but there was a whole lot more frustration that these other people were seeing the same sights without the effort.

Everyone gathered for pictures and to have our awe struck by the rising sun, then nibbled and bit our breakfast of hard boiled egg, banana, and tea. We sat there for a while talking and relaxing before agreeing we’d have to go back down the way we came. This struck a whole new level of panic and anger in Samantha and I, neither of us wanting to attempt this slippery slope.

The only way down is one cautious step at a time, though, so we eventually gathered our stuff, thanked the nice old lady for breakfast, and started our trek. I’ve said it before, but it bears repeating – falling up a hill isn’t nearly as terrifying as falling down a hill. Falling up, maybe you get a scraped knee or a little muddy. You fall down at the wrong spot and you’re falling for the rest of your (very brief) life. I didn’t see how close anyone else came to death, but I wasn’t taking any chances. I watched every step, took tiny baby steps to test the viscosity of the mud or dirt before committing, and grabbed onto plenty of branches and stumps along the way to slow my descent enough to arrest my fall if the ground broke free – which it did a couple of times. There were a few tricky spots where the guide waited for me so he could point out exactly where to step or offer me a hand navigating the slippery rocks. With most of my dignity intact, we reached the bottom where I found out nobody else had fallen either, but everyone was terrified and glad to be down.

We all filed back into the boat after giving our bamboo poles back to the guide to hide again for the next tour, then pushed off. We took a slightly different path back, seeing some temples and statues along the shore that weren’t visible in the dark. The boat was expertly navigated up to some stairs that led out of the water, dodging rocks and stumps in the shallows.

We disembarked, everyone dry, then listened as our guides explained some of the history of the temple, town, and people. We walked to the car that awaited us, seeing a cool tree that arched over the road forming a sort of tunnel. Exhausted, we climbed back into the car and let the driver take us to our next stop.

Sooner than expected, we pulled into a restaurant for a second breakfast and some views. The parking lot was full of vans that all seemed to be hired drivers for other tour groups but when we got inside, there weren’t many people. The main level had a coffee shop that opened to a gorgeous view and a staircase down. We headed down the stairs and the stairs Just. Kept. Going. Remembering back, there probably weren’t as many as I thought at the time, but after having just carefully tip toeing down a mountain, the stairs seemed unnecessary. We found a table near the front, where we could see across the water to a volcano in the distance. The waitress took our orders, and frankly my eyes were bigger than my stomach. The food was delicious, but there was just so much of it! We took turns posing on the pool chairs and with the volcano in the background before and after our meal, sharing stories and perspectives of how it felt to each of us.

Once we paid our bill, we piled back into the van for the ride back to Ubud. David bought a dessert to share with everyone on the ride while the driver dealt with the traffic. We said our goodbyes when they dropped off Matthew and Amy at their house, then headed into our hotel a short drive later. Tired from getting up so early, I napped for most of the afternoon. I bought my ticket to Thailand when I woke up, then headed to dinner with David, Ashley, and Samantha. I barely remember dinner, but I fondly remember getting back to my bed and passing out like I meant it.