The worst new car I've ever bought, and why I love it

One way to make a brand new Landy look good is to photograph it on a dark, misty night so the wavy panels are not so obvious :-)

I am over 50 years old. Why this is significant in a car review will become clearer as the story unfolds.
As my 50th birthday loomed just over a year ago, I faced a dilemma. While not quite a mid-life crisis, it was still a tough decision. Should I, or should I not, buy a new Land Rover?
I already had two older ones in the garage at the time, a 1994 Discovery and a 1986-vintage 110, so it's clear I like the brand and was already comfortable with the idiosyncrasies associated with these Made-in-England icons.
Then, early last year, Land Rover Malaysia came up with an irresistible offer of RM88,000 or thereabouts for a new Defender 110 HCPU (high capacity pick-up).

Coming down from the Bario highlands.

While I did not really need a new car, there was the issue of constant repairs needed for the old cars. And the offer, even with the condition that the "new" Defender had to be pre-registered, was certainly tempting.
So, I placed a booking, with the stipulation that the car should be delivered in time to be a 50th birthday present to myself. It was not to be, because there were apparently fewer than 200 units offered in the promotion and Sabah alone had over 200 bookings.
After that, the price went back up to usual levels above RM100,000, and I decided to call off the deal.
The itch didn't go away, though. It just became a fiercer battle between heart and head. The former said, "go for it", the latter said "don't be silly, there are better cars offered at better prices".
The head was right, of course, with the then newly launched Ford Ranger T6 looking like a winner in every way.
I had tested the Defender with the Ford-derived 2.4l TDCI engine (better known as the Puma) about five years earlier, and had not been impressed. The build quality was atrocious, the glass rattled, and the 6-speed gearbox was stiff and difficult to shift, and it was as noisy as a cheap pub during Friday happy hours.
But I had also driven various models of the Defender as well as my own Discovery off the highways, and knew that they all excelled when driven on the rough stuff.
So, a decision had to be made. Should I choose a nice, modern, comfortable and leak-proof 4X4 that had some off-road capabilities, or an off-road legend that was mediocre in creature comforts even by the standards of 30 years ago?

Andy 'One Ten' Wong

Then, just like that, the decision was clear. With shocking suddenness, a dear friend with whom I had spent much enjoyable time on the muddier side of Borneo, passed away. Andy Wong, call sign "One Ten", was posting on Facebook pictures of himself enjoying breakfast with 4X4 friends in Limbang on a Saturday, then others posted updates of him falling ill and being admitted to hospital in Kota Kinabalu on Sunday, and by Monday (1/10, 2012), he was gone.
Life is short. Life is full of surprises. Seize the day. Carpe diem. All these cliches came to mind, and they all struck a chord with me. If not now, when?
Even the head chimed in. There IS a practical and logical reason for choosing the Landy. With the modern cars, you just know there will be a newer, better version down the road. New models come out every eight to ten years, by which time your once-new pride and joy will be just another old car that needs to be replaced.
And this is where my age is significant. I no longer look forward to the endless cycle of debt associated with trading in an old car for a new one, and a new loan.
With a Defender, which has remained basically unchanged for over three decades, and can still share some parts with its older siblings from the 1960s, I am getting a car that is ageless insofar as style and fashion is concerned.
Sure, it will need parts replaced and more repairs as it gets older, but without the temptation to pawn my soul to buy the latest and bestest.
In short, I was preparing to buy my last new car. I named it Andy the Landy, in honour of Andy Wong, who helped me make the decision, and I dedicate this article to his memory.

The youngest takes centre stage between the oldest and older.

By the standards of modern automobiles, the latest Defender is a terrible car, by all the yardsticks against which cars are usually measured.
For a start, the legendary leaks. The old joke used to be that when a Land Rover leaks oil, that's normal. The worrying starts when it stops leaking, because that means it's dry. The good news is, the Ford-sourced engine and gearbox no longer leak oil. At least, the ones on mine do not leak after 14 months, and the transfer case and steering components are all still clean and dry, so it is no longer true that all Land Rovers leak oil and other fluids.
But there's another not-so-funny joke about "what's inside leaks out, what's outside leaks in", and the second part is still true, unfortunately. When it rains heavily, my right foot gets wet. Just like what Land Rover owners and drivers have been enduring for 60 years. At least, I know I got a genuine Land Rover, always a concern in this age of counterfeits and imitation (that's another example of Landy humour).
Fit and finish of the aluminium panels would have been deemed poor back in the 1960s, and are appalling by 21st century standards. But that's the hallmark of a Defender. If you want a car that looks perfectly made, sorry, look elsewhere.

Near Kota Marudu, with Mt Kinabalu as backdrop.

But while we're on the subject of looks, the Defender certainly looks like it could drive straight off the showroom floor into the timber trails and across the many streams of Sabah and Sarawak. It looks tough and it looks mean, like back when tough and mean were epitomised by Charles Bronson and Lee Marvin (yes, another sign of age!) instead of the pretty boys like the Cruises and Pitts of today.
There are creaks and rattles that can be tracked down, sort of, but cannot cured (even to this day, despite numerous complaints to the service centre) but these are not noticeable in the Defender's natural habitat, which is bouncing over ruts and jungle trails.
The clutch is heavy, and first-timers will be rewarded with an alarming clunk when releasing the pedal after changing gears. It must be a Land Rover thing because the same Ford-derived 6-speed gearbox is smooth, slick and refined in the T6 Ranger 3.2l that I drove to the Borneo Safari recently.

Like duck to water ...

When I get together with a good friend who bought a double cabin version of the Puma Defender about the same time, the conversation inevitably turns to problems we had encountered. His power steering pump packed up suddenly, mine did not, my air-con packed up, his A/C just wasn't cold enough when driving fast, my feet gets wet, so does his passenger's, and we have similar rattles that originate in different places.
As title of this blog post says, it's the worst new car I've ever bought. I don't know how many new cars or what types you've had, but I had, over the decades, a Perodua Kembara, a Ford Ranger Splash and several other newish cars (less than a year old when purchased) like the Ford Escape, Ranger Auto and Everest.
I think you get the idea by now. Land Rover Defenders are imperfect cars. When regarded as cars. You want a luxurious or comfortable ride and still insist on the Green Oval badge? Get a Range Rover or the new Discovery 4, they are modern cars.
Aside from the iconic image and rugged looks, what the Defender is really all about is when the tar road ends.

In a forest near Kota Belud, Sabah.

And no, this is not some myth or marketing hype. Aside from being proven for six decades by farmers and soldiers all over the world, I decided to take mine, at age two weeks, into the Borneo Safari 2012, just to give it a workout.
The Safari organisers said a vehicle must (in addition to being mechanically sound and a fully functioning four-wheel-drive) have a winch, snorkel and extreme tyres.
So, after some hasty fabrication to build a winch bracket and installing a cheap no-name China-made winch and a snorkel bought off, mudah.my, I set off from Kuching to Brunei, where I picked up a set of Silverstone 33-inch MT-117 Extremes along the way. Then, on to Kota Kinabalu to find a set of steel wheels to fit them.
In KK, a custom-made set of 2" nylon spacers gave it a bit of altitude and attitude, and it was ready to go play with the Big Boys.
On the tough trail of the Borneo Safari was where the Defender came into its own, and all the on-the-road idiosyncracies and irritating quirks just vanished into irrelevance. This was what the Landy was engineered for, and it delivered on all expectations.
You've heard that Land Rovers are unreliable? Maybe true, because most Defenders running around out there are cars rescued from the scrap heap after even the Government with bottomless pocket finds them no longer viable to operate.Did you really think a new paint job and a few new bushes and screws would make an abused junk like new again?
My Landy did not skip a beat, and took on all obstacles with style and grace. Where others huffed and puffed huge clouds of black smoke, the Land Rover just chugged up quietly as if it were a Sunday drive.

Up in the disused copper mine at Mamut, near Ranau.

When almost every other vehicle was wearing 35" or 36" extreme tyres, the Defender just cruised along on the relative tiny 33's. Sure, there were portions where it require winching to get through, but so did every other car. Besides, A Borneo Safari just wouldn't be legit without deploying the winches.
What was interesting was that in a couple of tough stretches where many cars had to be pulled through, I was able to drive through without the tachometer going above 2,000rpm.
So, while comparing notes around a campfire and I extolled the Landy's virtues, some sceptics who had actually witnessed these actions said: "It's the driver that made the difference lah".
Blush, blush and thank you for the compliment, you guys. But would a superior driver be driving an inferior car, hmmmm?
With the Safari done, there was still a 1,200km drive through Brunei and down the length of Sarawak to get home, a good wash and rest, then off to Pontianak, Kalimantan, during the Chinese New Year 2013 holidays.

The longhouse folk needed a ride to
town to get identity papers done.

Because of concerns over the effect of the poor quality diesel in Indonesia on the common rail TDCI engine, I carried two jerry cans (totalling 40 litres) of Malaysian diesel, used up one in Singkawang and reached home (by way of Sambas and Biawak, near Lundu) with an ample amount in the tank and the other jerry can still full and unused. So, fuel economy is also pretty good, with less than 90 litres consumed over a round trip of some 800 kilometres on marginal to bad roads.
Since then, the HCPU's oversized tub has served well in hauling cement and other heavy loads to a remote longhouse some 300km from Kuching, accompanied a bunch of amateur radio (HAM) enthusiasts into the jungle to test out high frequency radio transmissions, and a long, long drive to the Bario highlands. The accompanying photos tell the story of adventure far better than words can.

It also serves as my daily driver, during which the irritating creaks and other noises continue to annoy me but I am consoled by the thoughts of the next off-road trip coming up, and the pleasure I will derive from owning and driving my Defender.
Any regrets over choosing this new instant classic over a comfortable modern 4X4? Not really, although I do enjoy the quietness when I get to try something like the Ford Ranger 3.2l.
It's all about knowing what you want, and I know I want a superb off-road vehicle that is tolerable on the road, not a great road car that can do a bit of off-roading.
Mechanically, my Landy has been absolutely reliable, without breakdowns whatsover.
The air-con has gone on the blink once, repaired under warranty, and on another occasion, the lever to switch between fresh and recirculated air was jammed while I was in the Bario highlands but seemed to fix it self by the time I got back. Still, the service centre opened it up, found nothing wrong, and tightened and adjusted everything, and it has been fine since.
(Update: I have since learned it was dirt that clogged up the fresh air/recirculate opening and closing mechanism, which is in the engine bay. Yes, it does quite dirty, so a clean up and a bit of WD-40 sorts it out.)
I will not delve into the technical aspects of the Defender versus other cars since there is plenty of information on the web. Suffice to say, there are very few vehicles you can buy new today that are designed from the get go to be an off-roader. The Defender is one. Many others are descended from models that were once its peers and competitors but today's incarnations are not really the same thing. More on this another time.
A parting word of advice to those enamoured with the idea of owning a Land Rover Defender because of its cult status, but have never actually driven one before. Be prepared for a shock. It is an anachronism, a throwback to another time, another era. It is crude, and it is rough and tough. Are you?

Updated in response to queries from friends.

Okay, so you still want a Defender but are not willing to splurge on a new car. How about buying a used one and fixing it as you go along?
I had thought of that. In fact, that was my first thought, an idea shared with many other Defender fans, I'm sure.
It certainly looks like a cheaper way to get into a Landy but looks can be misleading. Bear in mind that in the three decades or so that the Land Rover with coil springs (initially called just the 90 for the cool short-wheel-base version and 110 for the long version, until the Defender nameplate was introduced in 1991) have been on the market, the vast majority were sold to the government, for use by the military and other agencies, as well as corporations that needed go-anywhere ability. Most were used hard, maybe even abused, until they were deemed no longer economical to operate, then sold off as scrap. Very few were sold as new cars to private motorists.
It is to the Land Rover's credit that, even when condemned to the scrap heap, they can still be revived with enough tender loving care. And money, of course.
Most parts are still available because, one, the Defender is still a current model, and two, because many parts are common among all models from 1983 till today, and three, because so many are still running around all over the world.
But building a car from new spare parts can be an expensive affair. There are over 30,000 components that go into making an average car, and the retail price of each part will be many times higher than what the car manufacturer pays for the same item because they commit to buying in large quantities.
A quick check of online marketplaces like www.mudah.my will quickly show that Defenders have now attained cult status and some sellers are asking for silly money. To be fair, RM75,000 may sound like a lot of money for a 20-year-old off-roader that has had a hard life but doing up an old junk bought for RM15,000 to tip-top condition can easily cost you even more than 80K.
There are several anecdotal accounts of fans who bought a salvaged and rebuilt Defender for about 50K, have spent another 40K or 50K to upgrade it, and are still about 30-50K away from the desired result.
Bear in mind that even when that objective is reached, it WILL still be a 25-year-old car on the registration card! And you know how our government is full of clever people who will occasionally come out with ideas like scrapping cars over 12 years old?
After considering all of the above, I decided it simply made better sense to buy a new car. Unlike with many classic cars that, if you really really must have one, you have to restore, you can actually just go over to Land Rover Malaysia and buy a brand new Defender.

With another aluminium classic that last saw action in 1964 in Bario.

At the Equator, near Pontianak, Kalimantan Barat.

Andy the Landy looks good in the mist ... blemishes can't be seen :-)

More Important Than A Matter of Life and Death - the story of Atiqah Abdullah, Queen of the Jungle

Jungle Woman leaping into action.

Atiqah receiving her Jungle Woman award from Sabah Tourism Board Chairman Datuk Joniston Bangkuai, who is also Kiulu Assemblyman.

If I were to declare that "the Borneo Safari is not a matter of life and death ... It's much, much more important than that" (mental note of thanks to Bill Shankly for the paraphrase), I know everyone reading this blog will roll your eyes and think that I've gone off my rocker. Sure, it's fun (for some people), even important, maybe ... but, really! Right?
But, really, seriously, it is more important than a matter of life and death for pint-sized Atiqah Norsauzelah Abdullah of Brunei, who was recently bestowed with the inaugural Borneo Safari Jungle Woman Award. 

Atiqah  in the posh rear of Cabby with gal pal Lau Jun Hwa (left)

She risked death, literally, just to take part in the hardcore 4X4 expedition, and she did it like a trooper, leaping out of her Land Rover with straps and tackle to commence recovery operations as soon as it got stuck. She fell in the mud, she got up and got on with the programme. At night, she bathed with hot water and dined and slept like a princess, only to get up in the morning to wallow in the mud again.
When her Jungle Woman award was announced, there were apparently some people who disagreed with the choice and made disparaging remarks about her. I hope these people, whoever they may be, read this.

Atiqah, Noh 'Boy' Halim with Humphrey
 the Camel Trophy wannabe in Brunei.

Personally, I know Atiqah as one half of the most helpful couple I have had the pleasure to meet in over two decades of off-roading. While I was in Bandar Seri Begawan for a trip, she and her partner stopped by to chat and admire my Camel Trophy-replica Discovery. They advised me that it might be a good idea to carry a spare cylinder head gasket. Good advice, but I did not have one handy. So they went off and bought one for me, even paying for it first. Enough said. 
I could have interviewed the 27-year-old Art and Design lecturer and written a story as journalists normally do but hers is such an unusual and powerful story that I feel it's best told in her own words, giggles and all. 
Photo credits are due to Atiqah, Lau Jun Hwa and, of course, myself.

Larger than life ... although petite in stature, especially next to a Borneo Safari car.

Hmmm... Let's see. I'm relatively new to the offroading world/community - only started proper off-roading few years ago. Mostly I do Sunday offroad trips to the "ulu" here in Brunei as I work on Saturdays so I am deprived of proper 2 day weekend (so BS2013 was my first ever "long" offroad trip).
Why I like it... Hmm I suppose after I graduated, I came back to Brunei to start my teaching career which restricts me from leaving the state at any time I want so I felt the need to find a hobby that I can do locally. Travelling was my passion so I had to stop jet-setting and find something new to scratch the itch.
I started to visit workshops with my partner (Noh Halim, better known to all and sundry as simply Boy) almost every day after working hours to check on his project cars.
At that time, I couldn't understand what the joy was all about - you fix your car, you test it out, you wreck it, you rebuild it again and the cycle goes on and on and on.
But, I just had to see what the deal was about so I still continued on tagging along with Boy to the workshops and things.
Four months after settling down in Brunei, I made one of my many impromptu purchases - a Land Rover Discovery 1 - it was offered to me cheaper than a Prada bag so I thought "why not?"
Twenty minutes after looking at the car, I convinced myself that I was going to buy it just because I can make a profit by selling it so I made the decision to buy my first ever Land Rover vehicle.
Many years later, I still own the Disco, didn't make a profit obviously as I couldn't let it go; and ended up spending more on LRs than I could ever imagine as we now have 7 LRs.

That's how it started - wanted to make profit - yeah right. I've turned into a LR owner and hoarder since and maybe mechanic in the making haha! LRs, workshops and spare parts shopping became my hobby.
What I like about it? Hmmm ... I think when you start building your car, as opposed to buying it, you tend to get more attached to it. So the satisfaction you get when your project cars turn out to be successful becomes something you constantly look for if that makes sense?
I never stopped restoring LRs since my first one. But that was about it - owning LRs, restoring them and Sunday trips. Never longer offroad trips.
So people asked me: "Why now? Why Borneo Safari 2013? Why not BS 2011?"
Last year (2012) I lost my dear sister, who just died suddenly at the age of just 34. She was perfectly healthy when she died so I never got the chance to say my goodbye. She was still young, and I imagine she could've enjoyed life more in this world had she known.
I was very devastated by her demise as we were very close. I began to question and review my priorities and I finally told myself I have to do things I love before it's too late.
I have always wanted to join BS but never got the chance to do it or rather my cars were not ready for it so after the life changing event,

I was very determined to do things I like so I decided that I must join next BS (2013). I gathered all my sources - cars, mechanics, parts and support to build a machine I could take to BS - the Cabby.
I never looked back, never turned back. I was so determined that Cabby and BS were the only things I could think of throughout the 12 months of its completion. Talk about obsession hehehe!
Three months after the start of project Cabby, I was diagnosed positive for Brugada Syndrome (a very rare heart disease which might have caused the sudden death of my sister).
I went through a very difficult time deciding what to do as there is no known cure for the disease. I was only offered a preventive measure - implantation of a defibrillator - the ICD (Implantable Cardioverter Defibrillator) - that acts as a life saving device just in case my heart fails.
It was almost unbelievable to everyone and cardiologists that I had initially decided to do the implantation of my defibrillator in December 2013, after the Borneo Safari, because I desperately needed to complete Cabby and prepare myself for the safari, so much so I could not afford to be "sick" and not be able to do normal activities after the surgery (hahahaha!!)
My cardiologist was not convinced with my reason for doing the surgery later as he feared my heart would fail during the Safari! Now that's a clever argument.
I then told myself I had to do the surgery as soon as possible so I won't die during the Safari hahaha. I then decided to have the operation two days later. I remembered Boy was furious with my decision as I didn't discuss it with anyone but my cardiologist. I just told him when he fetched me from my hospital appointment.
"I'm doing the surgery in 2 days time cos if I don't do it now, I might not be able to recover in time for BS so let's go home and pack our things and go camping as I will need at least three months to recover, i.e., cannot lift my arm, cannot drive, cannot carry things, basically cannot be normal during recovery period so I want to go camping for the last time".

I stayed strong, everybody else around me stayed strong. Mechanic stayed strong too - he continued working on Cabby to ensure I get to join BS before my heart fails. At that time, going to BS was like my final wish before I die hahaha. Not going to BS was clearly not an option as I did the surgery just for BS.
Everybody got emotional. Several months later, I recovered from the most painful times with the help of morphine, painkillers, yoga and support from Cabby team. Cardiologists declared I was then fit for BS, yeay!
Cabby is a Land Rover Defender truck cab (hence the name Cabby) produced in 1988. Again, it was one of my impromptu LR purchases. It used to serve a construction company as a workers' carrier.
When I first bought it, it was in a very undesirable state (no floor, broken axles, seized engine, no seat base and everything bad you can think of from a BND500 worth of car) but being a LR enthusiast, I was blindly optimistic that I could turn it into a decent car for my first ever BS.
Even Boy thought I needed to be more realistic with my vision but I think I have made it clear that no one can stop me when I'm that determined.
Boy reluctantly took up the challenge of building another "trash" and became Cabby's project manager.
Everyone who had seen the state of the car when I first bought it didn't think Cabby would be done in time for BS2013. I refused to agree with them. Instead, that gave me more reasons to prove them wrong.

Yes, it's pink underneath ... got a problem with that?

Building Cabby was relatively easy compared to our other LR projects as I had decided that it would still run on genuine Land Rover engine, axles, transmission, etc so I won't have to deal with a lot of fabrication had I gone for Japanese specs and "kahwin" the parts.

Having direct bolt-on stuffs also meant that we can replace parts easily in the jungle if need be so we don't have to worry about fabrication/welding/etc.
In order to accommodate the "princess" owner during the safari, Cabby was designed to have flat surface at the back so it could be turned into a bed at night with a canvas over the hood sticks to serve as the bed's roof in case it rains.
Cabby has built in compartment to store spare parts and drawers to store dry food to ensure easy access during brief stops in the jungle.
To ensure I enjoy the experience of my first ever BS, Cabby's project manager prepared a bespoke "room" at the back of Cabby in such a way that it would be easy for me to set up my toilet tent and effortlessly plug in the electric shower, the freezer to store frozen meat which can last for the whole trip, electric fans for sleeping in, laptops and mobile phones and other luxuries.

As for driving needs, Cabby was equipped with basic stuffs such as spotlights, reverse led lights, camping lights on both sides of the car, winching light behind the front grill, RPM meter, turbo boost meter, VHF radio, dual battery monitor, smaller steering wheel for easier control, raised shifter to accomodate the petite driver, GPS(es), GoPro camera, new seat base for comfort, and pink interior for the feminine feel hehehe.

Cabby runs on a 300TDi engine, with an automatic transmission gearbox, 24 splines rover axles, new offset steel rims, 6 degree corrected arms, heavy duty steering rods, heavy duty steering guards, front and rear differential guards, lamp guards, electric winch, dual batteries, new seals for all doors and windscreens and window channels, new intercooler, new transmission oil cooler, thicker radiator, new this new that all new until bankrupt hahaha.
Now that I have done BS, I'm looking at a different international event for 2014. The plan is to join RFC next year. New experiences related to offroad activities excite me - whether it's a competition or an expedition. So at the moment, I believe in making full use of the lifespan of my ICD's battery as I will need to go through surgeries every seven years to get it replaced. Awful but that's life  ;)

Where a Sunday drive can take you to Tuesday

Andy 'One-Ten' Wong

The story below was published in The Star, Malaysia, two years ago (circa June 2011). The trials and travails faced by travellers described in it no longer exist since the road to Ba'kelalan has been completed. I have left the story as it was published then to retain its original flavour, and also to remind readers not to wait too long to go out and chase that dream. The great wilderness may not be there much longer. 

I dedicate this post to the memory of a good friend and a legend in the Borneo 4X4 community, Andy 'One-Ten' Wong. Rest In Peace, dear friend. Carpe diem

Yes, this was a road ... between Long Semadoh and Ba'kelalan.

IN a faraway land known as Borneo, a place that many Malaysians have never visited, time stands still. Truth is, the clock's hands do move but ever so slowly that it feels like time hardly passes at all.
It's not that backward, though, they do have cars there.
Up in the mysterious mountains of north-eastern Sarawak, there are no traffic lights or jams but they take an entire day, or two, to drive just 12 kilometres. Or maybe just two kilometres.
The slow pace is not because there are no roads. There's one road, at least. Not just any road, mind you, but one of the last great driving adventures in the world.

It’s also the worst road I’ve driven on, and I’ve driven on plenty in far-flung places. Here, a Sunday drive could stretch to Monday, or maybe Tuesday, or even Wednesday. For those in a hurry or travelling light, a MASwings Twin Otter flight from the nearest town of Lawas about 130km away, takes less than 30 minutes.
Here, a couple of inches are a big deal. Having a set of tyres an inch bigger or smaller in diameter makes a world of difference – between making it home or not.
Here, the "road" swallows even jacked-up Land Cruisers that look like monster trucks in town and spits out bits of bumpers, hubs, CV joints and other assorted car parts.
“Here” is Ba'kelalan, billed by tourism marketeers as “Sarawak's hidden highland paradise” where the journey (to and from) is really the adventure, although the destination is pretty nice, too.
Until recently, this writer had heard about the unusual charms of this slow-paced Garden of Eden where they grow apples but didn't really believe those tall tales.
One fine day, after reading about the 1Borneo 4X4WD Expedition to Ba’kelalan (185km east of Miri as the crow flies), I decided to find out if these tall tales were true.

It would turn out to be an epic road trip which entailed an 800km drive from Kuching to Miri just to get to the preliminary starting point. Here, I collected several travelling companions and motored over border to Brunei to pick up more companions, then back into the Sarawak district and town of Limbang.

View from a tyre track.

Eight stamps on my passport later, I was in the company of around 80 fellow travellers from Sarawak, Brunei and Sabah, heading for the hills in 36 four-wheel-drive (4WD) vehicles.
After an entertaining detour to sample a bit of traditional jungle driving and river fording, expedition leader and local taikoh (big brother, or Boss) Clarence Labo led the convoy up some seriously steep slopes that proved to be a strain for many vehicles’ engines. Intermittent halts were needed to let the hot engines cool down.
The 90km run from the Sarawakian town of Lawas to Long Semadoh was relatively easy-going on wide tracks maintained by the logging companies operating in the area. In these parts, they’re called highways.
The passengers were treated to magnificent views while drivers kept one eye on overworked temperature gauges and the other alert for the log-laden behemoths that were the main danger to other road users.

On these timber roads, traffic flow is not fixed to the left or right side but rather, on right of way for the laden logging trucks. These heavy behemoths have priority to hug the hillsides so that they can stop safely in the event of emergencies while all other traffic must stay out of their way and use the ravine side, mere metres from a very long drop if anything goes wrong.
As the convoy snaked its way upwards through Long Tanguh, Long Ramirang and Long Luping, it wasn’t long before the two-way radios crackled with quips about how many places here were named after Ah Long, one of the participants from Brunei. Or, maybe the residents owed him a lot of money. (“Long” is actually “river” in the languages of the Orang Ulu, the collective term for the natives in Sarawak's highlands.)
Before nightfall, we arrived at Long Semadoh with just enough daylight left to set up camp by a pristine mountain stream. After driving almost the entire day, a good night's rest was just what the doctor ordered considering what lay ahead the following day.
Ba'kelalan was just 40km away but the Lawas-bound local pick-ups we passed along the way hinted at the rugged terrain lying in wait. They were all completely caked in mud up to the roof!

Lost sole along the way.

Setting off early the next morning, about 25km of reasonably smooth motoring brought the 1Borneo adventurers to what they had come for – MUD!
Just how bad is this so-called road to Ba'kelalan? It's viscous and vicious, gooey and gluey, with consistency ranging from thick oatmeal porridge to peanut butter, the type that sticks uncomfortably to the roof of your mouth.
The yellow-brown clay is too soft to support a vehicle's weight but sticky enough to cling to tyres, feet, clothes and just about everything else that touches it. And this was on a fine day with brilliant sunshine and blue sky overhead.
From here on, progress became painfully slow as each vehicle charged through the murk as far as momentum would carry it before bogging down in ruts that were thigh-deep in places.
Even the best-equipped 4X4 ended up stranded on the raised plateau between two canyons masquerading as tyre tracks, all four wheels spinning helplessly without any purchase on the slick mud beneath.
Willing souls with strong backs set to work with winches, tow ropes and assorted digging implements to fill the deepest holes and coax the heavy trucks up the slippery slopes.

Getting a single vehicle through a 100m stretch in 20 minutes was cause for celebration until one realises that it would take 720 minutes – that's 12 hours – to get the entire 36-car convoy across.
Fortunately, the vehicles that had made it across moved on to tackle the next muddy obstacle – just 500 metres away at the other side of the hill so the entire convoy was not held up at one spot.
Anyone who has attended one of the Rainforest Challenge 4X4 competition special stages would have seen men and machines taking on similar obstacles but this was a road that the locals used daily just to get from Point A to B.
The ordeal did not let up after the first two major obstacles, with more deeply-rutted stretches waiting to trap traveller all along the remaining 12km or so to Ba'kelalan proper, which the last car reached at sunset, nearly 10 hours after we set out from Long Semadoh.
The return journey would turn out to be even tougher because it rained intermittently, turning the ground into a squishy slurry that made every footstep a deliberate, considered action.
The same 40km that had taken us about 10 hours to cover on the way in would see us driving, winching, towing and digging from 10am to 1.30am the following morning before reaching a campsite, with a brief halt at 11pm for instant noodles eaten on the muddy road.
We were lucky. According to the locals, they frequently camp by the roadside or sleep in stuck cars.
To the locals, the torturous road is not an adventure but their lifeline to the rest of the world. Everything bulky and heavy that they need – fuel, cement, roofing & other building materials, etc – is hauled up on that road, and it is vital for transporting the famous Ba'kelalan rice to market.
In its present unsealed state, it is easily torn up by the heavy vehicles, which cut deep ruts into the soft surface. So they solve the problem by using bigger diameter tyres to lift themselves higher, but they end up cutting even deeper ruts.
So, when they reach largest practical size tyres, the ruts are so deep that everyone MUST use those tyres. It's a vicious circle that can only be broken by making the road all-weather, sealed, tarred, etc.
The government has allocated funds and entrusted the task of building an all-weather road to the army corps of engineers. Empty drums that used to contain sealants are scattered everywhere, signalling the approach of progress.
Although the works are behind schedule – the road was supposed to be completed in April – it should be no more than a year before the drive to and from Ba'kelalan is no longer an adventure.

Or, you could just fly ...

More photos here

On the Kalimantan Camel Trail

They say "it's the journey, not the destination that's important". They (whoever "they" may be), are wrong most of the time. After all, if you go to Italy for a holiday, surely it's the Colosseum and the Trevi fountain that you are interested in, and not the transit in Dubai with the possibility of a complimentary body cavity search, no?
But when the Land Rover Owners Club of Malaysia (LROM) mounts an expedition to an exotic locale like Borneo, it really is the journey that matters. Actually getting to the planned destination is optional, something that's nice if it happens but no biggie if unforeseen things happen along the way that force a change of plans.
The third biggest island in the world, Borneo is one of the few places left that conjures up images of exotic adventure at the very mention of its name. While many Malaysians in the peninsula who have still not visited Sabah and Sarawak may imagine the eastern states as a wild place, the Indonesian territory of Kalimantan has even more to offer those who love to rough it.

Rate "Atek" De Silva

"It'll be the blind leading the blind" was the reply from Trans Kalimantan 2 organiser Rate "Atek" De Silva whenever anyone asked where the convoy would be heading on any given day of the recent expedition. "We're looking for adventure," said the LROM president, "so we'll just take whatever challenges come our way, deal with them and have a good time." That's the Land Rover way.
The plan had a start date to depart Kuching, Sarawak, an intermediate date to arrive at the mid-way destination of Balikpapan in East Kalimantan, and an end date to return to Kuching. Everything else in between was left intentionally vague.
"We're heading for Nanga Bulik," Atek might say one morning. "But that could change."
And, change it often did. Even Day One had to be postponed a couple of days because three of the expedition's Land Rovers (two 110 Defenders and a Range Rover) from Peninsular Malaysia did not get loaded onto the ship at Port Klang on the right ship at the right time, resulting in late arrival in Kuching and the first forced rescheduling.
The loss of several days meant the planned itinerary had to be amended as well so Samarinda, a city north-east of Balikpapan on Kalimantan's east coast, had to be struck off the list of destinations.
Trans Kalimantan 2013, the second in a series of expeditions by LROM to explore Indonesian Borneo, followed up on the first trip in March last year that took a multi-national bunch of adventurers travelling in eight Land Rovers from Kuching to Banjarmasin, South Kalimantan (Kalimantan Selatan or Kalsel, as the Indonesians have a penchant for shortening and combining just about every place name), and back to Kuching.

This time around, the convoy would be smaller, with just five Land Rovers, including a Camel Trophy-replica Discovery from Kuching and another One-Ten Defender from Jakarta. The journey would be much longer, however, taking the participants through West Kalimantan (Kalimantan Barat or Kalbar) down south before swing east through Central Kalimantan (Kalteng) to East Kalimantan (Kaltim), then southwest to Banjarmasin, Kalsel, before turning north again for the return leg through the Kalbar towns of Pontianak and Singkawang.
Kalimantan has a surprisingly widespread network of roads that links the many interior towns and settlements but the expedition's intent was to take the roads less travelled so the paper maps that some participants brought along would prove to be less than useful.
Navigation would consist of getting lost first, then asking the local inhabitants, and if that fails, consult the Garmin GPS. None of the methods proved to be foolproof because it turned out that many of the locals were, in fact, not local but migrants who moved to the area under the Indonesian government's Transmigrasi programme, and many had never been more than 100km, or even 50km, from wherever they had settled. Ask three "locals" and you could get three answers that pointed us in three directions, and estimates of travel time ranging from "two hours" to "next morning" and "two days".

The GPS could tell us where were, exactly, to five decimal places of latitude and longitude, but that wasn't much help when the maps clearly showed we were on a major road while our eyes told us we were clearly not on any surface that could be described as a "road".
One such stretch near the village of Lampeong (on the Kalteng side of the border with Kaltim, S1.789503° E115.097010° if you wish to look it up in Google Earth) proved to be the epitome of adventure, the kind that Land Rover buffs dream of - deep, soft mud that required inch-by-inch winching to make any progress at all.
And when all the vehicles were successfully pulled through, we were rewarded with the knowledge that we were probably only the second group of Land Rovers to make it through, after the Camel Trophy convoy that passed that way back in 1996! So, yeah, we did the Camel thing, 17 years later, and the terrain looked the same as it did in the videos from back then.
A typical TransKal day would begin with a scheduled time for wheels to start rolling (say, 8am), followed by actual movement maybe half an hour to an hour later.
Then, a couple of hours of dodging potholes and assorted human, animal and mechanical traffic, stop by a roadside shack for "kopi pahit" and confusing directions, and then repeat until lunch break. The afternoon session would be more of the same, with varying degrees of dustiness or muddiness.
On most days, the driving went on well into the night, until a suitable camp site is reached, or 11pm, whichever comes first. Covering 280km in a day was about average, and 350kn was pushing it. Once, the entire convoy pushed on through the entire night to reach Balikpapan just after 5am.

The plan was to alternate between one night's camping with the following night's rest in a town where there might be found budget hotels known as "losmen" (from the Dutch word for lodgement). Like the other plans, this was subject to change, depending on circumstances. There were several occasions when we had to sleep in the five-foot way of village shops late at night and woke up just as the shopkeepers opened their front doors to find a bunch of strangers camped right at their doorstep. They never seemed surprised or upset and just grabbed the opportunity to serve fresh coffee and hot noodles to these eager customers!
The "roads" in Kalimantan were certainly an experience for those not used to third world conditions. For Malaysians from the peninsula who are already appalled by the poor roads in rural Sabah or Sarawak, Kalimantan serves up a whole level of horror. While there are some decent tar-sealed stretches linking the main towns, most are so narrow that when two oncoming vehicles pass each other, there is hardly enough room for both. The local seem comfortable to whiz past each other with an inch to spare while the TransKal drivers often resorted to placing the left wheels on the soft shoulder to create more safety space. The problem is that there often motorcyclists or pedestrians  without lights on the shoulders, making night driving a rather tense affair.
Many of the smaller roads appear to have been built and then never maintained, leading to inevitabe deterioration from the elements, accelerated by overloaded lorries.
Along one stretch near Tumbang Titi (near Ketapang, Kalbar), up to 80 percent of the tarmac had eroded away, leaving small chunks of bituminised gravel standing like tiny islands surrounded by a river of red earth that turned into slush when it rained. Of course, it rained when we were on that stretch.

A Land Rover expedition just wouldn't be a Land Rover expedition without breakdowns, err "mechanical issues", and TransKal 2 was most certainly a genuine Land Rover expedition. From a leaking coolant reservoir to melted fan relay to broken prop-shaft coupling to clogged and ruptured fuel lines and diesel filters, frequent stops to make running repairs were part of the daily, albeit unplanned programme.
There were also concerns about the dubious quality of the diesel fuel sold in plastic 20-litre drums, often with the colour and consistency of soy sauce. At RM2.50 to RM3 per litre, it was not cheap either. Officially, subsidised diesel is sold at 4,500 rupiah (about RM1.50) but the Pertamina stations in remote areas are almost always out of stock, or have long queues of lorries lining up to wait for supplies to arrive. (Each Land Rover burned up about RM1,500 worth of diesel over the 4,600km journey.)
None of these were really a surprise or showstopper because of Atek's insistence on standardisation, with all expedition vehicles powered by TDI 300 engines. There were sufficient spares to replace faulty alternators and AC pumps, among others, and when problems arose that required McGyverisation, things just got fixed and moving again in a jiffy. There will certainly be stories for many campfires to come but no major drama.
So what about the destinations? There were so many. Names of towns, cities and villages Sandai, Delang, Nanga Bulik, Palangkaraya, Sampit, Pangkalang Bun, Nanga Tayap, Natai Kerbau, Batu Butok, and dozens more. Truth be told, we passed through so many, had coffee, and moved on. In each there were interesting encounters and experiences but few were tourist attractions. Balikpapan and Banjarmasin turned out to be large modern metropolitan cities that rival any in Malaysia, with similar or better infrastructure.
Along the way, we couldn't help noticing that there was hardly any stretch of road or track, however remote, that did not have people living alongside. Kalimantan is sparsely populated by the standards of other parts of Indonesia, which is why the government deemed it a good idea to people from densely packed areas like Java to its Borneo territory. But it is still a heavily populated area by Malaysian standards, and it is bustling with economic activity such as clearing of the forest for  gigantic oil palm and rubber plantations.

One exceptional thing to see and do that surely deserves a must-visit tag is the orang utan rehabilitation centre at Tanjung Puting (Kalteng), accessible by a three-hour boat ride from the river port of Kumai, near Pangkalan Bun. After nearly two weeks of driving for upward of 10 hours a day every day, the soothing cruise proved to be a much-needed tonic for everyone, with the added reward of getting up close and personal with the amazing primates at the sanctuary, plus troops of proboscis monkeys and gibbons lining the trees by the narrow river.
The 17 days of Trans Kalimantan 2013 were physically and mentally taxing enough that quite a few who completed the trek might be inclined to think "that was fun but I think I've had enough of Kalimantan". Then, there's talk about about starting next year's event from Sabah. Now, that'd be a different journey altogether, never mind the destination.
If any part of this story sounds familiar, could be because it was published in 4X4 Magazine Malaysia.

More Trans Kalimantan photos here

For an overLAND expedition, we sure spent a lot of time on boats!