Behold Mount Bromo of East Java, Indonesia in all of its glory.

The starkness of its otherworldly features remains an extreme contrast to the lush, tropical climate surrounding it as the volcano sits triumphantly amongst an alien landscape and ejects plumes of sulfurous fumes into the sky.

My adventure to this place was a glorified crapshoot to say the least. After a quick flight from Bali to East Java, I was thrown directly into the chaos. Bombarded by taxi drivers, I quickly negotiated the best rate to get me from the small airport to the town that would lead me to Bromo.

Impulsively, I jumped in the back of my “taxi” which was an old Toyota Land Cruiser FJ40 and was off. Quickly, after I began my drive, I was rushed out of my current vehicle and hurried into the back of another with all of my gear. The drivers from each vehicle grabbed my bags without saying a word to me, started yelling at me when I questioned why and then we drove directly into the jungle where I figured I was either being abducted or was en route to my destination. To this day, I still do not know what the purpose of switching vehicles was as they were basically identical.

Hours of unease went by before I arrived at a small town at the base of Bromo. It was the middle of the night at this point. I put the uneasiness behind me as I had one goal in mind… To photograph the volcano that I had been dreaming of visiting for years. After running around town like a chicken with its head chopped off, I finally negotiated a ride that said they would pick me up at 3am, which was in 3 hours.

After getting about an hour's worth of sleep, I was woken up by honking and my driver yelling at me because I had overslept. It was GO time. I jumped into yet another FJ40 and we ripped into the darkness of the night in order to catch the first light of the day with the scenic volcano in view. I had the same anxious feeling that I normally get when I only have one opportunity to create a photograph that I’ve traveled great distances for.

Once we arrived at a secluded spot up in the mountains, my driver pointed towards a sea of fog and mentioned that, “Bromo should be right there, but is behind the clouds” in broken english. A feeling of disappointment rushed over me and the truth started settling in that the volcano was totally enshrouded by clouds and I would not get the chance to photograph it, let alone see it with my own eyes.

I figured that since I was already there, I would wait to see if a miracle happened… It was a tale as old as time. Just as I was about to call it quits and get a ride back to town, I took one last look in the direction Mount Bromo was supposedly in.

I noticed the faint glow of sunrise illuminating behind the clouds and could just make out the silhouette of a peak engulfed by fog. I whipped out my camera gear and felt a rush of excitement as Bromo seemed to embrace its identity, erupting powerfully into view as in its nature. The clouds slowly dissolved into thin air and all of my emotions towards achieving my photography goal were humbled just to be in the presence of such greatness.