Standing at 3,805m high, Gunung Kerinci rises above even Japan’s Mount Fuji. Known as the “Rooftop of Sumatra”, this majestic peak is home to several endangered species including the Sumatran tiger.
It is often wrapped in clouds, cloaked in mystery, and brimming with beauty. And somehow – I ended up climbing it.
Like many Malaysians, I don’t see myself as an adventurer. I don’t run; I only train when guilt gets the better of me; and I prefer a quiet life without too many adrenaline rushes.
But when your best friend of 13 years says “you can do this”, you somehow get talked into it – reluctantly, and with absolutely zero confidence.
Day 1: Into the wild
At 9am, our team of 16 hikers and six guides from Trekking Indrapura Indonesia gathered at the entrance of the national park, Pintu Rimba. That’s when reality, and the struggle, hit.
The initial trek to Shelter 1, the first checkpoint, felt familiar, almost comforting. Cool air, shaded trails, thick foliage: it reminded me of the Malaysian rainforests around which I had grown up.
But the climb from Shelter 1 to Shelter 2? Brutal. There were no switchbacks – just steep, tangled roots and vertical mud walls.
We passed through an area called “lubang tikus”(rat hole), which felt like something out of “Alice in Wonderland”. Only I wasn’t Alice – I was Mowgli, haplessly clambering and clawing my way up through the jungle.
At over 2,000m, some of our friends started showing signs of acute mountain sickness. Thankfully, our experienced guides stepped in, calmly helping everyone push forward safely and steadily.
By 6pm, all of us arrived at Shelter 3, our camp for the night at 3,290m. With sore legs and happy hearts, we huddled in the cold, knowing the real test still lay ahead.
Day 2: Summit attack
We woke at 2.30am. It was freezing. An hour later, headlamps on, we began our push to the summit.
The trail was narrow, steep, and unstable. Loose rocks shifted beneath our feet, and every gust of wind bit through our jackets. I started to panic: fear of heights, the dark, the cold – it all came rushing in.
Thankfully, I wasn’t alone. A few dear friends stayed by my side, encouraging me to face my fears and keep going step by step.
At 6.45am, we reached the summit together. Words fall short. The sunrise painted the sky gold, a sea of clouds stretched below us, and the red volcanic rocks glowed warmly in the light.
I thought of the verse from Surah Ar-Rahman: “Then which of your Lord’s favours will you deny?” It was breathtaking. Humbling. A moment I’ll never forget.
The descent
Soon it was time to make our way back down. Climbing up, I was too focused to notice the drop. Coming down in daylight, the height hit me hard. I froze.
Thankfully, our kind guide, Andes, held my hand the entire way down. Yes, I was in full “princess” mode.
After a short rest back at camp, we began the long trek back to Pintu Rimba. It wasn’t as technically difficult, but our legs were dead. Still, slowly but surely, we made it.
By 4pm, we were back – smelly, muddy, achy, but proud beyond words. One friend even powered through with diarrhoea like a champ. Now that’s what we all call “Barulah Adventure”!
Postscript
While I’m proud of this achievement, in light of recent incidents involving hikers, I wish to express that nature is beautiful but also mysterious and unpredictable.
So, never underestimate any hike. Always be prepared, stay cautious, and never hike alone. If possible, go in a group or at least have someone watching your back.
To everyone who joined me on this hike, thank you for making this trip so beautiful and meaningful. To Muhammad Atiq Aiman, my best friend, thank you for pushing me beyond what I thought I was capable of.
And to my ride-or-die of 20 years, Fatin Nur Farhanah, thank you for saying “yes” to this adventure.
A heartfelt thanks also goes to Gerbang Explore and the incredible team at Trekking Indrapura Indonesia. Your care, patience, and kindness made all the difference.
So this is my Kerinci story. I committed, I struggled, I laughed, I froze – and I made it.
This article was written by Siti Nurzahra Rusdi, an everyday woman who speaks for those who may not be avid hikers but still long to enjoy the beauty of nature.