After the exhilarating experience of exploring Lewotobi, our Indonesian volcano expedition continued with our sights set on the next fiery giant: Lewotolok, also known as Lewotolo. We bid farewell to the smoldering slopes of Lewotobi with one last, dramatic eruption visible as we sped away from Larantuka on a fast ferry bound for Lewoleba, on the island of Lembata. This modern vessel was a welcome change from the usual rickety boats we often encounter in Indonesia, offering a smoother and faster journey.
On the fast ferry to Lewoleba with less than ideal headroom for us tall foreigners.
Arriving at Lewoleba – a hustle of activity.
Arriving in Lewoleba was a whirlwind of activity, with the port teeming with people and goods being loaded and unloaded amidst shouting and engine noise. We met our local drivers and embarked on a bone-jarring, two-hour journey along a road riddled with potholes. Apparently, the local government had urged residents near Lewotolok to relocate due to the ongoing risk of lahars, and road repairs were on hold until the relocation was complete. This explained the treacherous conditions!
Our accommodation was a rustic bamboo shack perched precariously on the water’s edge, unsettlingly close to the path of a devastating lahar that had tragically claimed the lives of many locals just two years prior. While the proximity to the volcano and the potential for future lahars was a concern, I found myself more worried about the stability of the shack itself. The floorboards creaked ominously, and I couldn’t shake the image of plummeting through them onto the jagged rocks many meters below. The sweltering heat was stifling, but thankfully a whirring fan in our room offered some respite. Lewotolok was supposedly nearby, but its imposing presence was hidden behind a shroud of dense clouds.
The devastating lahars from 2 years ago – just behind our accommodation
The next morning dawned with clear skies, revealing the summit of Lewotolok, actively degassing with plumes of white smoke curling into the sky. With a favorable weather window, we made our usual preparations for the climb, which included the sometimes-tricky task of organising local porters. We drove around to the southwestern side of the volcano, where we managed to secure a couple of battered jeeps to drive us partway up the slopes, saving us a couple of hours of arduous hiking. There was a slightly unnerving moment when we learned that one of the jeeps had faulty brakes, but with a shrug and a dose of Indonesian fatalism, we piled in and began our ascent.
Once the road ended, we were on foot, venturing into the forest on the volcano’s lower slopes. Snake gaiters were essential gear in this part of Indonesia, where cobras and vipers are common, especially around the plantations. The track was steep and relentlessly hot, the midday sun beating down mercilessly. We had to pause every ten minutes to catch our breath and rehydrate, and even our porters were struggling in the oppressive heat. It was the hottest month of the year, exacerbated by a heatwave, making the climb a truly grueling test of endurance. Thankfully, we had a plentiful supply of fresh coconuts to replenish us. The forest, thankfully, was relatively dry and sparse due to the heat, making the trekking slightly easier, although some sections were incredibly steep.
After about three hours of this relentless climb, we finally emerged from the forest into a more open landscape of grasslands. Stark reminders of the volcano’s power were evident in the skeletal remains of large trees, casualties of a recent pyroclastic flow. Another hour of hiking brought us to a small plateau where we could pitch our tents. Looming just 300 meters above us was an explosion crater, and to the left, a lava flow from July was still cooling. It was a breathtakingly beautiful but undeniably dangerous spot to camp. We managed to get two tents up, both precariously perched on the uneven ground, guaranteeing an uncomfortable night’s sleep. To make matters worse, I realised I had forgotten my sleeping bag!
Despite the challenging conditions, volcano camps always have a special magic. We were treated to a spectacular sunset. We cooked locally caught fish over an open fire. Lewotolok, however, seemed restless. It would suddenly erupt in vigorous degassing, emitting a large white plume, then fall silent before resuming again. At one point, the plume grew enormous, thankfully without any ash, but the silence that accompanied it was unsettling.
The next morning was rough. The lack of a sleeping bag, combined with the dampness from condensation and the unforgiving terrain, had resulted in a sleepless night. I was cold, sore, and exhausted, a stark contrast to the previous day’s struggle with the heat. But the summit beckoned, and with renewed determination, we pushed onwards and upwards. After 45 minutes of scrambling over loose rocks and scree, we finally reached the crater rim.
The view was simply awe-inspiring. Freshly cooled lava had filled what was once a deep crater, overflowing its edges and cascading down the volcano’s flanks. The central cone, a recent formation, was actively spewing a plume of white gas. The lava field was vast – predominantly a’a lava, with sections of warped and folded ropy pahoehoe. We decided to push further.
Our first obstacle was navigating the still-cooling lava flow. The blocky a’a lava was treacherously sharp and unstable, and in places, the heat radiating from it was intense. We had to proceed with extreme caution. We encountered a massive, fractured lava bomb that had landed on the flow, and I couldn’t resist the urge to climb it for a photo opportunity.
As we ascended higher, the air grew thick with noxious gases, forcing us to don our gas masks and helmets. Without protection, these gases could be lethal. Soon, we found ourselves amidst a dense cluster of fumaroles, their vibrant yellow sulfur deposits and delicate, feathery white mineral formations creating a scene of otherworldly beauty. The sulfur here was unusually dark, likely due to the high temperatures and unique gas composition of these fumaroles.
Driven by a thirst for exploration, we continued our climb, eventually reaching the lava dome and one of the active craters. It was a dangerous and undeniably foolish endeavor, and I wouldn’t recommend anyone follow in our footsteps. But standing there, amidst the swirling steam and volcanic gases, felt like stepping onto another planet. Despite the inherent risks, I was utterly captivated by the beauty of this volcanic realm. We were likely the first people to ever set foot on this part of the volcano.
But let’s be real, this was nuts. We were scrambling around on top of a freaking lava dome, right next to an active crater! Not exactly a Sunday stroll in the park. But hey, sometimes you have to embrace the crazy, right? Something about being that close to a molten rock monster makes you appreciate the finer points of NOT getting incinerated. Still, Lewotolok was mind-blowing. Absolutely stunning, and definitely an adventure I won’t forget anytime soon.
