The Call of the Wild: My Four-Year Journey Through the Bali Mountains Hiking Trails
Over the last four years, Bali mountains hiking has become more than just a job or a hobby for me; it has been a transformative pilgrimage through the misty, northwest highlands where the soul of the island truly breathes.
Moving away from the saturated tourist tracks, I have spent my days guiding curious souls through the “Holy Peaks” of Batukaru, Sanghyang, Adeng, and Catur. Each mountain has its own personality, its own rhythm, and its own way of teaching us how to be still.
My journey began with a realization that the true magic of Bali isn’t found on a crowded beach, but in the silence of an ancient rainforest at dawn, where the only sounds are the calls of the mountain birds and the soft crunch of volcanic soil beneath a pair of well-worn boots.
On Mt. Batukaru, I’ve learned the art of patience. Starting at 07:00 AM from Pura Malen (1,100m), the climb to the 2,276m summit is a four-hour immersion into a primary rainforest so dense it feels like a living, breathing cathedral.
I always remind my guests that we are just visitors in this “ancient home” of giant ferns and moss-covered giants. There is a profound spiritual weight to this peak; sitting near the high temple with a steaming cup of Balinese coffee and a plate of jajan Bali, looking out over the entire island, you feel a deep connection to the land that no coastal resort can offer.
The descent toward Pura Batur Sari is always quieter, a time for reflection as we carry the mountain’s blessing back down to the world below.
Then there is Mt. Sanghyang, the peak that redefined “sunrise” for me. For the past four years, I have led travelers through the deep quiet of 03:00 AM from Pura Pebaktian. Hiking under a sky so thick with stars it feels like you could reach out and touch them, we reach the 2,087m summit just as the world wakes up.
Watching the sun illuminate Mt. Batukaru and Mt. Adeng—turning them into islands floating in a sea of morning mist—is a meditative experience that stays with you long after you’ve returned to sea level. It is the perfect antidote to the crowds of Batur, a place where you can actually hear the wind whisper through the trees while you warm your hands with hot tea.
Mt. Adeng and Mt. Catur offer the final pieces of this highland puzzle. Adeng is what I call the “Green Cathedral,” a hike I lead not for the views, but for the soul of the forest. It’s a five-hour sanctuary where the canopy is so thick you lose track of time, arriving at the summit feeling completely “reset.”
On the other hand, Mt. Catur (Puncak Mangu) is an epic traverse of history. Starting at 02:30 AM in Bedugul, we climb to 2,096m to see the three sacred lakes spread out like blue gems. Crossing over the ridge to descend into the valleys of Plaga, we see the landscape transform from wild jungle to high-altitude farms.
These four years of Bali mountains hiking have taught me that the greatest heights are reached not just with our feet, but with our hearts, as we learn to respect the guardians of the rainforest and the silent spirits of the mist.
