HORROR OF MOUNTAIN CLIMBERS
FAILED TO SPUR WITH MYSTERY

Early September 2016 ago I with ten friends realized the climb to Mount Lawu. The trip this time is very fun, because there is so much fun to tell.

So, after work I went straight to Pasar Minggu Station, transit to Kemayoran. Because it can not be a train ticket to leave—we only have a return ticket—we decided to take the Damri night bus whose pool is in Kemayoran, which is also all used as a meeting point.

The story I was invited by a friend, Adam Arwi his name. I just got to know other friends at Damri Kemayoran. Bang Irwan was chosen as the leader. Together with Bang Irwan, Bang Deno Saputra, Fansyah, Adam Arwi, Bang Heru, and Jane Jana, I set out from Jakarta to meet the climber friends who had been waiting at Tirtonadi Terminal, Solo.

Due to the long weekend, the number of passengers soared rapidly. And wrong, we did not buy a bus ticket a few days before. A male friend came to and fro looking for a ticket, while Jane and I guarded the bag while exchanging stories.

A few moments later they returned with a grim face because they had run out of bus tickets. Because at that time the stomach was rumbling, we filled the stomach first while thinking of ways to go to Solo. While busy eating pecel catfish next to the Damri pool while talking about departure, there was a gondrong-haired and tall-bodied father joined the roost. And he offered to transport us in his car. He also went to Solo with his wife.

The journey is not as smooth as we thought

After the fare deals, even we getok fare: Rp 180 thousand people. Departure us to Solo with a sedan car owned by Mr. Gondrong. Even though we were in the car, we didn't care. “Ah, erah. The important thing until,” thought we.

The journey is not as smooth as we think: wrong entrance toll, tire kingpos in the Cipali Toll, finally out of the toll either in the village and which area is quiet and dark, which is the, right left of the forest is very minimal lighting, and—entah why—front lights of the car die and we feel the way with the help of the reflection of lights from other vehicles (if there are vehicles passing by means safe, safe, if not dark and we can all just say a prayer so as not to enter the abyss). Fortunately, we finally found a workshop that was almost closed. A good mechanic would help us fill in the AC freon, change the headlights, and check the tires. When we finally continued our journey, Mr. Gondrong forgot the entrance to the toll gate!

Take a private car like this: time to arrive. As a result at 8 am then we finally arrived in the Solo area.

We asked to be escorted to a small terminal that we thought was a bus terminal. In fact, the terminal is only a shadow terminal where village transport and buses three-quarters then search for passengers. After asking here and there, then we know that the Tirtonadi Terminal is still far away. Still have to take the bus three-fourths 30 minutes. It felt like the moment wanted to cry: How come there are only obstacles?

We also took a bus to Tirtonadi Terminal with a fee of Rp 5000 per person. Alhamdulillah, finally arrived at Terminal Tirtonadi at 11 noon. There were already two people waiting, namely Kak Tanty and Mas Pram from Semarang.

The strange begins to appear

After exchanging stories about the trip, and filling the stomach of course, we went straight to the climbing route of Mount Lawu via Cetho Temple. The journey takes about 2 hours. Beautiful view. The tea garden is spread on the right-left of the road, there are high hills towering, sturdy pine trees standing on the side of the road. When crossing this path, do not forget to open the car glass. The fresh air is too bad to pass up. Anyway, the initially sleepy will definitely be literate continue to see this epic scene.

We also arrived at the home of the car owner who picked us up in Solo. It is located at the foot of Mount Lawu, very close to Cetho Temple. View in front of his house .... don't ask: “Masyaallah, bye! Beautiful really!”

At the base camp climbing Cetho Temple, registration is taken care of by our leader, Bang Irwan. While he was taking care of the simulation, licensing, and briefing, we were just waiting for a selfie.

After taking care of it, we prayed and then began to climb. It was about 5pm. We got two new friends from Semarang, namely Mas Mencen and Mas Gondrong. Let us climb together.

The weather was very friendly. The forest birds and starlings sounded greeting and following us. In addition to Cetho Temple, there is another temple on the hiking trail that is quite crowded by tourists. His name is Candi Kethek.

About 30 minutes from Kethek Temple, we arrived at Post 1. Because at that time magrib, we stopped for a moment before continuing to travel to Post 2 to pray magrib as well as rest waiting for isya. From Post 1 to Post 2 it takes about 45 minutes. Finally we offer the prayer of magrib with isya. This is where the strange events come from.

Honestly, when finished praying some of us—including me—move water in the back, which is a good distance from Post II. At that time we felt nothing. Like before, we also have the courtesy to urinate. Excuse me and say hello and thank you.

Passing Post 2, the feeling is still ordinary. There's no weirdness at all. Until finally after 10 minutes left Post 2 Bang Deno jolted. He was shocked and stopped. But he said nothing and just continued walking.

My feet were heavy at the time. It's hard to move. I still think positively about not thinking about anything else. Along the way I saw celiweran supernatural beings. A lot of what I saw. But—again—I try to think positive only.

My friends thought I had hypothermia

Halfway through, I kept vomiting. I finally fell. I was hired to walk for a while until Post 3 which was not far from where I fell. In Post 3, friends took a break and I straightened my body for a moment, then.

However, according to the stories of all the climbing friends, I then fell asleep. When my friends finished cooking the instant noodles, Adam tried to wake me up. But I did not wake up until finally my friends all panicked— half my body was cold.

My friends thought I had hypothermia. Then Sis Tanty and Jane Jana changed my clothes, wrapped me in a sleeping bag, a sarong, and hugged me while waking me up repeatedly. But I did not react at all. According to the stories of friends, my breath was lost arising and thin once. My body was cold and my face was pale.

My friends are so afraid of me why. Sis Tanty and Jane Jana cried woke me up. Some friends read Yasin's letter while trying to wake me up, until Bang Deno held me and hugged me. Because he also knew supernatural things, he told the friends that someone was following me.

Bang Deno kept trying to wake me up, but I didn't react. Several times he also gave artificial breath but there was no reaction as well. Finally, no matter what Bang Deno did, I came to my senses and vomited many times. I was shocked and astonished to see friends who were crying and laughing relieved to see me awake. I can only stare because I don't remember anything.

But, as I know, I had a dream to meet three climbers. A man and two women, one of whom is hooded. All I remember is that this man wanted to ask me for help, while the veiled woman asked me to listen to her story. The other woman just smiled and repeatedly cracked up.

When I woke up, no one would tell a story. If I asked—“Why, anyway? What's the matter?”—they're just smiles but silences.

Since it was already 11:30 pm, we chose to camp at Post 3 only and postponed the climb until the next morning. At that time I was still surprised: they looked after me like they were guarding an inmate. I am in a tent with Adam, Sister Tanty, and Bang Irwan. Even though my eyes were not sleepy, they all asked me to sleep.

Meet “something” on the way to Pos 4

In the morning we woke up at 7 a.m. After breakfast and getting ready, we started walking to the top. Before the journey began, I was repeatedly made healthy by friends. And I really don't feel anything. I don't get sick—what to worry about?

The climb to the top begins. Of course accompanied by fresh air and chirping bird—entah what bird. Well, when heading to Pos 4 whose climbs are super steep—rightan-left the barren trees like burned out—when I looked up to hold the tree roots, I was holding the tree roots, I was shocked to see three people's faces peeling and breaking like an accident.

Go to Base Camp Reco (Ceto Volunteer) and meet with Pakde Anggoro and Mas Kris. Pakde Anggoro welcomed me to the base camp. It was as if he knew what I was going through.

He just smiled. “Piye, Nduk? Healthy?” he asks. The exhausted me just returned his smile while saying I failed to the top. He just smiled and embraced me to tell stories.

But Adam told me first. Then Pakde Anggoro asked me what I remembered. I told you about the three climbers I “temuni” it— suddenly I spontaneously mentioned the name “Kartini.”

The story of the terrible fire in Lawu

Apparently, according to the story of Pakde Anggoro, there used to be a very creepy disaster, namely the Mount Lawu fire on the Cemoro Sewu and Cetho Lines. It's just that the Cetho section only got a little, which is around Post 4.

According to the story, there were nine more people who died. There were four fire victims who were very difficult to identify the body. Pakde Anggoro said they are indeed used to show their form to invite climbers interaction or just appear. Many are not strong, until possessed, drop, sick, there are even women from Tegalrejo who possessed from above until base camp and then because not strong finally died.

I personally know nothing about Tragedy Lawu. All I ever read was about the Grandma-Begging-Tendong and Satan Market that requires us to throw any amount of money if there is a sound that reads “Tumbas opo?” (“Buy what?”) in the middle of gamelan and boisterous-low as in the market.

It turns out there are still many Lawu mysteries that have not been told much. He was just shaking his head. Finally he fished my “sight” to explore what was in the area of War Bulak and Dieng Market. I vividly tell what I saw at that time—and justified by Pakde Anggoro.

Growing curious, he asked about the building near the base camp. Again, I told you what I saw.

“Kepiye to wis dikandani ra dirungokke,” said Pakde Anggoro. Apparently according to the Pakde, yesterday before we climbed, when the briefing Pakde had warned you should not climb with an odd number. He also made sure we would climb at 5pm, why not morning or afternoon, or night.

Actually if you think it's true, anyway. Since it starts to panjak at 5 pm, we will meet two very short prayer times, namely magrib and isya. Such hours are indeed the time of descent sandekala (demon)—ahead maghrib.

Finally Pakde asked me to take a bath in the sandang at Puri Saraswati. But I refused. Finally I just wash my face, wash my hands, and wash my feet.

Arriving at the door, I saw a beautiful woman, but looks fierce and shaped like a snake. I'm shocked. Then Pakde asked, “See what?” I told you I saw the woman. Then, looking down and putting his hand down, he just said to me, ”Don't be afraid. Come on in. Clean up your body.” I thought I would wash my face, hands, and feet. Three times each. After that I threw the coins into the pool hoping for the best.

Believe it or not, after that I feel my previous body is not because it becomes much calmer. Like what, yeah, it feels like? Just plong, so. Yeah, whatever, believe it or not.

If there is no mother, maybe we walk to the Karang Pandan Terminal

After not receiving word whether the other friends have arrived at the top and want how, finally me and Adam say goodbye to return to Jakarta. My friends don't get a signal.

Finally, because it has been kesorean, there is no transportation to the Karang Pandan Terminal. Want to rent a car, the price is expensive once—Rp 600 thousand—and our money is very limited. With the belief that who knows there is an ojek or a freight car down there that will transport us, also because it was still bright, we took to the foot.

The view is so beautiful. But it was also a long walk. Longer and quieter. Vehicles passing by are getting fewer. Magrib was almost there but Adam and I were still walking for a ride.

The name of the rural road is more creepy, because right-left hills, tea gardens, vegetable gardens, bamboo trees, and so on, not to mention there are sounds of night animals that sometimes like to make ambigu—right sounds of night animals or sounds that are “lain.”

The more traced it feels the road is getting farther and longer. Sometimes a car passes. But before we ask for help they already shouted first, “Sorry, yes. Full car.” Finally, after we walked for about three kilometers, after hundreds of times installing a blank look every time a vehicle passed by, a car stopped.

“Bade bladders, Nduk?” Ask a mother to me. Luckily I still speak a little Javanese. “From, Mom. Kulo bade teng Karang Pandan. Bus bumpak semarangan,” answered me. “Hayuk no anter. Seko endi walking distance, Nduk?” the mother offered me a ride. “Candi Cetho, Mom. Kulo kesorean ra ono car opo ojek sing gelem nganterke mring Karang Pandan.” “Woalah melaske nemen,” the mother is concerned. “Angger ra meet kambi kulo sampeyan continue mlaku ya Nduk. Press dawn, loh.”

Thank God there are still good people who have a conscience to help others. Thanks to the help of his mother and family, Adam and I were able to reach the Karang Pandan Terminal at 8 pm.

Sent from “preman” to Solo

But good luck is not on our side. The Karang Pandan Terminal is empty. There are no intercity buses waiting for passengers. There are only a few sellers of boiled beans, boiled corn, and mobile cigarette baskets that always offer their merchandise even though we have said, “Mboten, Mas.”

The mind is dead. When Adam and I no longer knew what to go up to Tirtonadi Terminal, we were suddenly approached by three men. From their mouths they smell of liquor. I thought the three men were going to do nothing. But we were wrong.

Instead the three offered help to take us to Solo city in order to find a taxi or other bus to Tirtonadi Terminal. Along the way, because they were still drunk, they rode the motor at will, “so called it.” When they talk, their bad breath stings. But, the name needs to be taken only. Fortunately, this mass still wants to be reprimanded if the motorbike has gone too fast.

Stay in Solo City. We are so grateful to the people who delivered us. Amazingly, none of them wanted to be paid. They're sincere. We also exchanged mobile numbers. One day if I go to Lawu again, I will definitely invite them to coffee. From there, it was easy to find a taxi.

Already relieved. It did not feel like we were on the bus to Semarang. Arriving in Semarang at 11 pm, we filled the stomach first around Tawang Station. The food is unique, namely fried rice cooked with charcoal. Very mature.

After dinner we waited for the train inside the station. Then we got bad news from friends who culminated in Lawu. They descended from the summit via Cemoro Sewu. Jane Jana sprained her legs until they had to be carried alternately, even by a ranger. He also had a high fever. Brother [T]anty's sick and some other friends drop. They were forced to cancel their home schedule because it was very late at night and would not be hunted also arrived in Semarang on the train departure schedule, at 2 pm. Tickets are also forfeited. But, the only ones eliminated from the top of Mount Lawu are me and Adam.

This hike I will never forget. All his stories and stories will always be remembered, as well as the promise to the Lawu that someday I will return to visit Mbok Yem and Hargo Dumilah.

And, believing in disbelief, when I arrived in Jakarta and went to check Facebook, I was stunned to find that I was already friends with Alm. Aris Munandar, one of the victims of the Mount Lawu fire whose body could not be identified for 7 days. Not only friends with the deceased, I also made friends with some of his climbing friends from 2010.