Lombok Surfari

Mar 25, 2020

This is a story about three friends. All of whom herald from the same small coastal town in Western Java, all of whom had fallen under the spell of surfing. A spell cast by those first surf pioneers who roamed the southern coast of Java looking for waves during the 70s, ‚80s, and ‚90s. It's a small knit community in their town in paradise. Full of people who rely on each other for everything. A place where they shared what little they had. For these three, and a handful of others who aren‚Äôt the focus of this yarn, that included the first surfboards they‚Äôd managed to acquire through travelers either from breakage or gifts. Their town was fortuitous enough to be on the map for the water magicians who passed through. Blessed with a wave that‚Äôs now something of an international attraction. But that‚Äôs not the focus of this story either. The oldest of this trinity, Husni Ridhwan, was whipped up into traveling and surfing from a young age. He‚Äôd caught the bug and he was good at it, something the trio have in common. At one point he‚Äôd competed and had been Indonesia‚Äôs Longboard Champ. But he was too laid back for the whole rigmarole that is competitive surfing. A woman. A daughter and work conspired to make him move to Australia many moons ago. The youngest, Dean Permana, left to seek something he foresaw in his future, something he couldn‚Äôt find in that blip on a map. He upped roots traveling to Bali just over a year ago. That left just Deni Pirdaus in paradise. Don‚Äôt get me wrong, he‚Äôs not lonely, as I said before, he‚Äôs still got a mass of mates up where he lives, it‚Äôs just that they aren‚Äôt pertinent to my tale. This is an account of an opportunity. The timing was right. All three were in Bali for a moment and when a friend of a friend, friend's old Mark II Landrover from 1961 was offered up to use they hatched the plan for a short surf trip. The car would move them, but they knew it wouldn‚Äôt go fast or far, so they looked east, a place they didn‚Äôt get too often but somewhere they knew had waves, Lombok. They wanted to take advantage of this shared location enabling them time to hangout and surf some great little waves and with that thought in mind, the three of them loaded the Landie to the hilt and bursting at the seams with over animated senses of adventure, they set out on their surfari. ‚Å† If you leave late in the evening you can time it right and miss the traffic cutting the time it takes to get from Canggu to Pandangbai in two. The trio knew that the crossing on the car ferry could take anything from 5-10 hours, yes there is really that much variance in the timing, therefore leaving on the midnight ferry was the aim. That would get them in around dawn or at least in the morning before the sun got so hot you could fry eggs on the antiquated arcs deck plate. Husni would pilot the Landie from beginning to end. Neither of the others had a license for a car, and with this old girl requiring a certain touch, he would be, for the duration of the trip, the skipper and shackled behind the wheel. The responsibility rested easily on his shoulders, what with being the oldest, but moreover from his move to Australia where he drove an old Landcruiser on a daily basis. This to him was just more of the same. Riding shotgun for most of the trip was Dean, the youngest of the bunch who‚Äôd resettled to Bali to get greater exposure for his surfing career. For him, this trip to Lombok wasn‚Äôt far but it was more about the company he would keep. Deni had flown in from West Java for the Deus 9ft & Single comp and for him to chase waves with his buddies to a place he‚Äôd never been was too good an opportunity to pass up. The ferry ended up taking about seven hours, the last two sitting so close to the coast they could throw stones. They sat there waiting in a queue for the ferry in front and the one before that to get loaded up with trucks, cars bikes, and people and out of the way. When they rolled off the boat they were well and truly over it and headed up the hill through the odd crunch of gears they found a cruising speed and navigated the old girl south to find some surf. First place they came upon was Mawi. It is a beautiful vaguely populated bay on the southside of Lombok. Hills stand like pillars at wither end and its awash on the one side with aqua blue waters and on the other with fields of half-grown green grains. There‚Äôs a white stripe of delineation, the sands of the beach, being the in between. This was a spot with a known left hander and a lot less known right. Well, these three were all naturals and to a man, they liked going left as much as they liked eating sandwiches for lunch, which when you take in where they are from, isn‚Äôt very much nor very often for that matter. The right was working when they arrived and after parking and safely securing their gear they dived into the waters and out straight into the small waves that were on offer. The clean clear sea served to dislocate all the travel dirt and washed off the past night and mornings trek. Steep cliffs on two sides held the wind at bay until a little later in the day and they enjoyed the separation and solace this far-flung spot provided. Hunger pushed them out of the water and back to the car. They packed efficiently and headed off to find a local lean too and a delicious meal of rice, meat, and vegetables. Their repartee was immediately apparent. And they spoke with fluidity and candour only true friends acquire. Teasing and mockery were there but malice wasn‚Äôt. They talked about everything and everyone they knew in common. They talked between waves, between the bouncing over bumps on the dusty track and between mouthfuls of food. They filled in the gaps that had appeared in their friendships when one moved away or stayed. Thus, they began to set up a sedate routine. Drive, park, surf, drive, eat, drive, sleep, drive, park, surf, drive, eat, drive, sleep and so on. Talk was a constant. Where many others would have fallen silent this triad chose to speak, laugh and play all the way. They trawled the south coast from Serangan, through to Grupuk. The days blurred until there were gone and time told them to point the car north and head for the ferry home. The ‚Äò63 Landie performed amazingly. Shouldn‚Äôt sound so surprised but for a vehicle whose age is only slightly younger than the combined age of the three occupants, it was great to see there wasn‚Äôt a hiccup from it the entire trip. Of course, it was slow, noisy, underpowered, has an uncomfortable driving position, minimal or no creature comforts, and no land speed records were broken before, during or after their jaunt. It should be said that it was the car that set the tempo for the entire journey. With its open sides, brakes and clutch that can both be very, very heavy (a real pain, literally, getting on and off ferries and in traffic jams) and a totally inadequate sized motor, it took them out into the wild untamed places. The three boys were transported back to a simpler period, allowing them to unconsciously drop the pretenses of the intervening years leaving them able to catch up on miss times and hear about the other opportunities. They vowed to not leave it so long before the next trip. Words by¬†Ano Mac Photos by¬†Harry Mark¬†&¬†Didit Prasetyo Adi Wibowo

ENGLISH TEXT BELOW

Setiap tahun, teman-teman kita Tasix Adventure—penyelenggara petualangan ban berlumpur dan adrenalin berbahan bakar terbaik di Bali—mengadakan acara akhir pekan berkemah yang sangat dinanti-nantikan. Mereka menamakannya “ The Wild,” dan jujur saja, tidak ada kata yang lebih pas dari itu.

Ini bukan sekadar acara; ini adalah petualangan wajib bagi siapa saja yang mencintai tanah, tantangan, dan persahabatan yang hanya bisa terjalin saat tertawa melihat teman lain terjatuh.

Hal tentang The Wild adalah misterinya. Kamu tidak tahu ke mana akan pergi, bagaimana sampai di sana, atau apa yang akan kamu temui—seperti hidup, tapi dengan lebih banyak asap knalpot.

Tahun ini, The Wild yang berlangsung pada 7 Desember 2024, mengumpulkan 135 pecinta motor enduro, trail, dan cross di Desa Kopi, Tabanan. Tepat pukul 9 pagi, kami berangkat menuju Desa Gesing, Singaraja. Rute tetap dirahasiakan hingga hari acara, meningkatkan sensasi penasaran dan antusiasme. Dengan dibagi menjadi beberapa kelompok kecil, kami melengkapi diri dengan perlengkapan motocross lengkap untuk menghadapi tantangan musim hujan.

Perjalanan? Murni magis. Jalur berkelok melalui permata tersembunyi Bali, di mana setiap tikungan menawarkan pemandangan yang memukau atau hampir membuat jantung berhenti. Rute tahun ini menghadirkan medan tanah liat merah—dijuluki tanah "keramik" karena teksturnya yang licin dan keras saat basah. Untuk melintasinya, diperlukan teknik khusus yang disebut “paddling the throttle,” sebuah manuver yang mendebarkan dengan motor yang sering bergoyang liar. Dari kejauhan, mungkin terlihat lucu, tetapi saat di atas motor? Ceritanya berbeda.

Setelah menempuh 68 kilometer petualangan liar, kami tiba di perkemahan di puncak bukit yang sudah dipenuhi tenda-tenda peserta lain dan deru knalpot. Destinasi selalu mencuri perhatian, dan yang satu ini tidak terkecuali—tempat tinggi dengan pemandangan 360 derajat yang menakjubkan dari laut, gunung, hingga kota.

Saat hujan turun, tenda-tenda didirikan, dan malam itu diisi dengan berbagi cerita tentang penyelamatan heroik dan kecelakaan yang menggelikan. Dan tentu saja, ada balapan. Bayangkan sekelompok pengendara penuh semangat meluncur di perbukitan dalam kekacauan yang terkontrol. Balapan tahun ini termasuk duel 1 lawan 1 yang seru di sekitar puncak bukit, dengan peserta menyelesaikan dua putaran penuh adrenalin.

Bukan soal menang; ini tentang hadir, tertawa, dan menikmati momen. Para pemenang dan peserta tercepat yang mencapai puncak bukit dirayakan dengan hadiah, tetapi senyuman, persahabatan, dan kebersamaan membuat semua orang merasa seperti juara.

The Wild tahun ini benar-benar sesuai namanya, bahkan lebih. Petualangan, tawa, dan cukup banyak tanah di gigi untuk menyebutnya otentik—kami tidak akan menginginkannya dengan cara lain. Terima kasih yang sebesar-besarnya kepada semua peserta yang menjadikannya pengalaman tak terlupakan. Sampai jumpa di petualangan berikutnya!

Every year, our mates over at Tasix Adventure—Bali’s finest purveyors of muddy tyres and fuel-driven adrenaline—host their much-anticipated camp-out weekend. They’ve named it “Wild,” and honestly, there’s no better word for it.

It’s not just an event; it’s a pilgrimage for anyone who loves dirt, daring, and the kind of camaraderie you can only forge while laughing at someone else’s wipeout.

The thing about Wild is that it’s shrouded in mystery. You don’t know where you’re going, how you’ll get there, or what you’ll find—kind of like life, but with more exhaust fumes.

This year’s Wild, held on Saturday, December 7, 2024, brought together 135 enthusiasts of enduro, trail, and cross motorcycles at Desa Kopi, Tabanan. The route was kept a secret until the event day, heightening the thrill of the unknown. At exactly 9 am, they shared the destination, Desa Gesing, Singaraja, Divided into small groups, we geared up with full motocross kits to tackle the rainy season’s challenges.

The ride? Pure magic. Twisting trails through Bali’s hidden gems, where every turn promised either breathtaking views or breathtaking near-misses. This year’s route featured red clay terrain—nicknamed "ceramic" soil for its slick, hard texture when wet. Navigating it required a special technique called “paddling the throttle,” a nerve-wracking maneuver that had bikes swaying wildly. From a distance, it might have looked hilarious, but on the bike? It was a whole other story.

After 68 kilometres of this wild adventure, we arrived at the hilltop campsite already alive with the buzz of activity and the roar of exhausts. The destination always steals the spotlight, and this one was no exception—a high-altitude perch offering stunning 360-degree views of the sea, mountains, and city.

As the rain came down, tents went up, and the evening was all about swapping stories of heroic saves and laughable crashes. And then there were the races. Picture a pack of overexcited riders tearing up the hillside in what can only be described as controlled chaos. This year’s races included thrilling 1-on-1 duels around the hilltop, with participants pushing through two laps of sheer adrenaline.

It wasn’t just about winning; it was about showing up, laughing, and embracing the moment. The race winners and the fastest hilltop arrivals were celebrated with prizes, but the smiles, the camaraderie, and the shared triumphs made everyone feel like champions.

This year’s Wild lived up to its name and then some. Adventure, laughter, and just enough dirt in your teeth to call it authentic—we wouldn’t have it any other way. A massive thank you to all the participants who made it unforgettable. See you on the next adventure!