Picking Up A New Ride ... YAY!!!!

GETTING a new car is exciting, isn't it? I remember the excitement of picking up my Land Rover Defender 110 HCPU last year. I still recall the thrill of greeting my first Ford Ranger, the bright yellow Splash, about 13 years ago. And I will never forget the 'new car smell' moment when getting my first ever brand new car, a Perodua Kembara, back in 1998. At a whole new level, however, is taking delivery of an aeroplane. And not just any tiny Cessna or Piper, or even an executive jet like the Lear, but a humongous continent-hopping Airbus A330 from Toulouse, France. No mud, no 4-Low, only business class all the way but it was an adventure that I will never forget. This one's for you, Richard K.S. Wong.

The Pont Neuf, French for "New Bridge", is a 16th-century bridge in Toulouse, southern France.

Taking delivery of a brand spanking new Airbus is not an everyday experience, and certainly quite different from picking up your new car at the local dealership. For starters, you don’t get to kick the tyres, and you inhale new plane fragrance instead of the new car smell.
And, you realise that about US$150mil (RM568.5mil), give or take a few million, has just changed hands. (There is a sticker or catalogue price but nobody pays that amount because the final figure is negotiable, and varies widely, depending on the size of the deal, and options chosen.)
The occasion was Cathay Pacific Airways taking delivery of its 26th A330-300 from Airbus A.S.A. at the European aviation consortium’s headquarters in Toulouse, France. To celebrate, the airline flew three Malaysian journalists and a dozen more from its home base, Hong Kong, to witness the delivery.

Airbus headquarters.

After several briefings on the technical and marketing aspects of the aviation industry, several salient facts became clear. It involves big bucks. Very big bucks, indeed, with typical orders measured in hundreds of millions, and often billions, of dollars.
All transactions are in US dollars, and no one talks about the exact figure for a single plane. Deals typically involve a number of airframes, type and number of engines and highly customised interior fittings, such as numbers and types of seats, and maintenance packages.
It is extremely difficult to pry specific specifications and monetary figures out of anyone because all airlines guard their secrets jealously.

A massive wing for the A380 dwarfing the technicians working on it.

But you can get some ballpark figures. A top-of-the-line First Class seat, for example, can cost up to US$110,000 (RM416,900) each, roughly the price of a BMW 525i here. Talk about flying high! (Hint, the aforementioned seats are fitted in a certain airline based in the Middle East.)
Airlines negotiate prices and talk specs directly with the seat manufacturers, who then deliver their products to Airbus for installation.

Making a list, checking it twice

A visit to the gigantic assembly facilities for the A330/340 family and the A380 is a jaw-dropping experience, and a must-do for tourists when in Toulouse. After all, this Airbus contributes 70%, directly and indirectly, to the economy of this southern French city.
Unlike most other factories, the assembly plants are quiet and serene all the time. The massive scale of the buildings and the partially built aircraft dwarfs the workmen, most of whom are busy but out of sight.
Very little of what goes into making an Airbus is actually made in Toulouse itself. Reflecting the company’s multinational character, components are manufactured at a total of 16 sites across Europe.
The wings are built in Britain, most of the fuselage sections in Germany, and various other components come from Spain and Italy.
Airbus operates a fleet of five Beluga transporters, unique purpose-built large-volume versions of the company’s A300-600ST airplane, to fly the big pieces to Toulouse for final assembly.
Barges and trucks are also used to transport some major components that are too big for even the Beluga’s cavernous cargo hold.
Although most commercial jets look pretty much alike except for the livery they wear, there are substantial differences beneath the skin, depending on individual customers’ requirements.

Yes, it's big.

Cathay Pacific has an engineering manager stationed at the Airbus plant in Toulouse to oversee the production and delivery of each plane ordered by the airline. His role is to liaise with Airbus on planning, specifications and definitions, and quality standards, among other things.
“Every aircraft we buy has to go through an acceptance programme that our engineering manager performs with support from other Hong Kong engineering specialists as required,” said Derek Cridland, Cathay Pacific’s director of engineering.
“In the first phase, the manufacturing inspection programme, we perform inspections of the aircraft during production, from the moment the first rivet is inserted in the assembly process until the aircraft enters the final acceptance phase.
“The final acceptance phase is where the aircraft is demonstrated via a well-structured test programme to ensure conformity to Cathay Pacific requirements and specifications and to Hong Kong airworthiness regulations.
“Both parts of the programme involve inspecting and testing the aircraft throughout the production and acceptance phases, which typically last five months for a A330 aircraft,” said Cridland, who was among the airline’s senior directors present for the acceptance ceremony.

Looks like a house undergoing renovation, doesn't it?

A little light-headed

After touring the facilities and making the obligatory stop at the souvenir shop, the highlight of the trip arrived: climbing aboard the gleaming new A330-300, resplendent in its green-white-red Cathay Pacific livery at the aircraft delivery centre.
“Our plane” already had a name, Alpha Charlie, short for Bravo Lima Alpha Charlie. That’s pilot-speak for B-LAC, the registration of Cathay’s 26th Airbus A330 and the 95th aircraft in its fleet.
Flight CX3330 from Toulouse to Hong Kong on July 28 was special. For a start, it was not a regular Cathay service but a ferry flight. There was no need to queue at regular check-in counters or even to go to the airport, although strict security screening of luggage was carried out. And, everyone on board travelled First or Business Class.

It's nice to take a jet home.

After the smooth take-off, Captain Nick Martin made an announcement that highlighted to aviation laymen like us that planes are not all the same, even if they look identical:
In the event of sudden cabin depressurisation, oxygen masks would drop from above each seat, just like they say in all the mandatory safety briefings that many frequent flyers ignore. If the cabin were to lose pressure, the standard procedure would be to descend quickly to 3,000m (10,000 feet), where there is enough oxygen for passengers to breathe normally.
Alpha Charlie is designed to fly in regions where there are no high mountains so each mask can supply oxygen for just 22 minutes, which is sufficient time for the pilot to descend to a safe altitude.
However, things would be different on this flight: for just this one time, Flight CX3330 would fly over the Himalayas to get to Hong Kong, so the plane would not be able to descend to a safe altitude for at least an hour should a pressure problem develop over the highest part of the mountain range.

Inspecting a work in progress.

The solution was to allocate each passenger three extra seats in the empty economy class – mine were 57C, 58C and 59C. If depressurisation occurred, we had to move to these seats and use their oxygen masks, moving on to the next after one runs out.
These complicated instructions were purely precautionary, we were told, and the risk of depressurisation was negligible. I felt reassured. After all, I have never been on a flight on which oxygen masks had to be deployed.
Then, a short while after getting home, news broke about the depressurisation-related crash of the Boeing 737 belonging to the Cypriot airline, Helios.
Within just the last couple of weeks, several other airliner incidents made the headlines – the emergency involving the MAS flight from Perth to Kuala Lumpur, the Air France crash-landing and subsequent fire in Canada, the Colombian chartered plane that crashed in Venezuela, the Qantas emergency landing in Japan and the deadly Tans Peru crash. It’s enough to make anyone a nervous traveller.

These used tennis balls, collected
from  Roland Garros stadium (home
 of the  French Open), play a crucial
part  in the building of an Airbus. 

To help keep your mind off such scary thoughts, Cathay Pacific has one of the best in-flight entertainment systems in the skies. The programme guide features all the usual movie ratings, such as “PG-13” (parental guidance advised for children below the age of 13) and “U” (universal), plus an unusual “I” rating. This indicates that the film contains aircraft “incidents” that white-knuckle flyers should avoid. Now, that’s attention to detail.

One of the "I didn't know that" features of a modern jet liner is this turbine that is extended if the plane loses all power. Its propellers spin in the slipstream, generating electrical power for the aircraft's electronics and controls.

A designer's vision of what the A380 interior could be like.

One for the album before taking 'Alpha Charlie' to her new home.

Another unusual sight, but a regular at Toulouse airport, is this Airbus A300-600ST (Super Transporter) or Beluga, which ferries oversized aircraft components from factories all over Europe to Toulose for final assembly.

Not Flying, But Falling With Style

I know, I know, this blog's title is Borneo 4X4 Adventure, and this post has nothing to do with 4X4. Isn't it nice for a change? Anyway, I am still from Borneo, and falling off a bridge is still one hell of an adventure. This is a blast from the past, at the Gouritz Bridge in South Africa ( S 34°11'8.19" E 21°45'20.12"), circa 2004.

SOMEBODY’S spirit had been willing but his flesh was weak. The evidence was purely circumstantial, though – a pair of soiled briefs lay discarded just outside a public men’s toilet. The convenience was next to a parking lot for visitors to a scenic spot in Gouritz, South Africa.
Three bridges spanned a spectacular 70m gorge, which gave photography buffs great landscape opportunities. One span bore trains across the chasm; another served road traffic; the third, in the middle, was no longer in use. At least, it wasn’t used for getting anyone or anything from one side to the other. You could walk to the middle, though, and jump off.

Thousands of people have done it, maybe hundreds of thousands or millions, even. Bungee jumping, that is. But, billions have not and that was reason enough for me to go to the edge and find out if I had what it took to plunge beyond.
Normal people do not just get out of bed one morning and decide to jump off a bridge as high as a 20-storey building.
The journey to that desolate and wind-blown place began a day earlier, when I arrived in South Africa on a mission. The job at hand was not to risk life and limb but to ride the new BMW R1200 GS motorcycle and write about it. With two free days before the event, my fellow travellers (two fellow journalists and BMW Malaysia’s corporate affairs manager, Vijay) discussed the options of spending time in the most memorable ways.
“How about bungee jumping?” suggests Hezeri Samsuri, my counterpart from the New Straits Times, holding out a brochure.
Like a long story that takes its own sweet time to get to the point, four intrepid Malaysians drove leisurely to Gouritz, near Mossel Bay, about 60km from the quaintly-named George, about 400km east of Cape Town. An observer would think we were in no hurry to get there.

Time passed slowly and quietly but it did, and we found ourselves in front of the counter with a decision to make.
“Once you sign here, you won’t get your money back,” said the friendly guy running the place. Normally, I would have asked his name, but it did not seem important at that time. Nor was the issue of a non-refund for the 160 rand (about RM85) fee if we balked at the last minute. All I could think about was the plunge and, more importantly, whether I could make that leap of faith.
I’ve had to make similar decisions many times before. My real story began nearly 25 years ago when, as a 16-year-old student, I decided to be adventurous. Although shy and reserved, I drew up a list of things to do. Ride dirt bikes and superbikes; drive sports cars and 4X4 vehicles off the road; travel to foreign countries and hitchhike or backpack across faraway lands; scuba dive; shoot white water rapids; rappel down cliffs; skydive.
Plastered on my bedroom wall as reminder was a camera advertisement from a magazine, depicting a man in the classic arms out, legs apart and bent position of a freefalling parachutist.
Over the years, each item on the list has been ticked off one by one. In fact, that piece of paper is gone; the list exists only in my mind now.
I rode a Yamaha DT 175 through the bush in Western Australia in pursuit of kangaroos; revved a Kawasaki GPz 1100 up to Kinabalu National Park; abseiled down a quarry and into some very dark and scary caves; hitchhiked over 2,000km from Perth to Melbourne with A$50 in my pocket over eight days in 1982; dived among the corals off Sabah, and travelled to every continent except South America and Antarctica without joining any of those “see 10 countries in 12 days” tours.
But one item remained unchecked – skydiving. Timed passed and with each tick, the whole list thing seemed less important, even though I had earlier pursued each challenge with so much passion. It was never about proving anything to anyone; gradually, even the need to prove to myself that I could do all these manly things faded too.

Bungee jumping was never on my list simply because the crazy sport had not even been invented when I compiled it. Along the way, many other extreme sports came in but I did not add them on as that might have been tempting fate.
I have never put all these thoughts and memories down in writing before ... but you know what people say about your life flashing before your eyes? Standing with your legs securely bound at the edge of a tiny platform, looking down through 65m of nothing to a dry riverbed, knowing you are expected to look brave and leap off in a few seconds – all that definitely pushes the playback button.
Vijay had taken the plunge as I took the photographs, and Hezeri had bravely followed suit while I operated the camcorder. (The other fellow traveller, Joseph Chin of The Edge, wisely declined to partake in such foolishness, citing concern about losing some valuable dental work.)
Then it was my turn. Some wag had carved a bull’s eye into the sandy riverbed, over 200 feet and an eternity below and added “SPLAT” for good measure.
Think of Mom. I’m sure many who had passed that way before me must have cried out silently for their mothers. But I was thinking of Mind Over Matter.

It is safe, I tell myself. No one has been hurt, much less killed, the guys running the operation keep telling us. Vijay and Hezeri have demonstrated, not with words but action, that it can be done and done safely.
But the guy who used to own that discarded pair of briefs near the toilet might have disagreed. He might have concluded that there was a fate worse than death. The spirit may be willing but the flesh that makes up the sphincter may not be so strong.
I can testify that, standing there at that moment in time, guys can literally feel their balls shrink, regardless of what the brave mind says. I thought I had known fear before, but it was then that I really tasted it in my mouth. and felt it in my belly …
I try to convince myself that there is nothing to fear but fear itself, and that I am more afraid of being seen to be scared than of taking the plunge.

Sign your life away here, and here ...

“Hold your arms straight out, arch your back and hold your chin up … it looks better,” I was told. “Five, four, three, two, one … BUNGEE!”
I jumped, and fell forever, although the rest of the world did not notice anything significant for the two seconds or so as I accelerated at 9.8m per second. I will remember it for as long as I live.
The good news is that the way the elastic bungee cord slows a falling body is a lot less violent than I expected. And bouncing up and down several times while being suspended upside down is not all that unpleasant.
After the fear comes the ecstasy. I liked the feel of adrenalin coursing through my arteries and veins. I enjoyed the rush of elation as my fellow jumpers and I welcomed each other back to terra firma and the hearty backslapping and congratulations.
We compared the thoughts that went through our mind and Hezeri confessed to thinking about death. So why did he suggest the crazy stunt in the first place?
“I was hoping you guys would say No,” he admitted sheepishly.
For the record, I did not file a claim for new underwear and, to the best of my knowledge, neither did my fellow jumpers.
At the end of it all, I felt a bit taller although I’m not sure if it was the bungee that actually stretched my spine or simply the feeling of achievement that supposedly makes one walk tall.
Now, maybe I should start looking for an airfield soon and settle some unfinished business, once and for all.

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 :-)

Dangerous fun

Splashing through a mountain stream makes for great photos ...

Doesn't this photo just make you want to drive to a river?

River crossings are such a fun part of 4X4 adventures in part, I suspect, because they are not normal occurrences. I mean, a 4X4 is still a car with four wheels so it's natural environment is on land. It is not a boat.
The fact that a well-prepared 4X4 can wade through water up to a metre deep means that water crossings are among some of the most fun things you can do with a car in the tropical jungle.
On even the mildest trips with the greenest of greenhorns, I see happy faces with broad grins emerging from cars immediately after fording a stream.
Even veterans are not immune to the excitement, high-fiving each other after a successful crossing, even if only because they know how badly wrong things could have gone.
As another year draws to a close, we in Malaysia are reminded that the rainy season is upon us. It is timely for a reminder that the awesome forces of nature are not to be trifled with.
In the Rainforest Challenge (RFC) of 2007 in Terengganu, raging floods trapped even the most well-equipped vehicles and experienced crews on hills that became islands, and many participants had to trek out to the nearest point where they could be ferried to safety by rescue boats. Their cars had to be abandoned where they lay, to be recovered later when the floodwaters had receded.
Today, there was news that a group of 17 people in six 4X4s were trapped by rising rivers and had to be rescued.
A brief excerpt from the Bernama article (full story here): "KEMAMAN, Dec 3 — Seventeen participants of a four-wheel-drive (4x4) vehicle expedition from Pahang went through anxious moments when they were trapped at Sungai Cherul, here, as the path out of the place was flooded.
The victims, aged between 25 and 50 years, had driven in six 4×4 vehicles for camping at the location.
Cheneh district Fire and Rescue operations officer, Abdullah Embong said the group’s expedition to the river started on Friday."

And right now, the 2013 RFC convoy is reporting floods (photo courtesy of 4X4 Magazine Malaysia) in areas that they are going through.
Early last month, shortly after returning home from Borneo Safari 2013, the Indonesian Everything Four Wheel Drive (EFWD) team were called upon to assist in a rescue operation. Apparently, several vehicles were crossing a stream when they were swept away by sudden flashfloods (photo below), with devastating consequences, including the tragic loss of one life.

So, as the rains continue falling, please be careful when enjoying the great outdoors. Don't camp right next to a river, no matter how placid or serene it looks when you roll up to it. Camp on higher round and walk down to the water to bathe and swim.
Don't attempt to ford a stream if the current is too strong for you to wade across on foot.
If in doubt, don't. Turn back, go home. And take basic precautions such as informing friends or relatives about where you are going and when you expect to be back, so that they can call for help should unforeseen problems arise.
Above all, stay safe out there.


The full story on the stranded group and rescue.
KEMAMAN, Dec 3 — Seventeen participants of a four-wheel-drive (4x4) vehicle expedition from Pahang went through anxious moments when they were trapped at Sungai Cherul, here, as the path out of the place was flooded.
The victims, aged between 25 and 50 years, had driven in six 4×4 vehicles for camping at the location.
Cheneh district Fire and Rescue operations officer, Abdullah Embong said the group’s expedition to the river started on Friday.
He said the victims were planning to get out of the area on Sunday afternoon but the water level of the river rose dramatically and hindered their journey.
“They decided to find a way out in the morning but failed when the river continued to overflow hampering their exit,” he told Bernama, here, today.
But all of them were successfully ferried out in boats by the Fire and Rescue Department which began the operations at 1pm today and ended almost three hours later.
The fire fighters used two boats to rescue them and all the victims were reported safe. — Bernama

Mudding with SAKTA

An adventure does not have to be a month-long epic trek that takes you thousands of kilometres from home. For sure, going on such odysseys from Kuching to Sabah, or driving to Balikpapan, or Casablanca, does make for some bragging rights around the campfire.
But when you live anywhere in Borneo, an adventure can be just outside your doorstep. Case in point, the SAKTA (Sarawak 4X4 Travel & Adventure Club) Jamboree over the weekend (Nov 30 to Dec 1, 2013).
Just get together a bunch of four-wheel-drive nuts, assemble their 33 cars, load up the family and food and drinks, and head for the hills.
The hills this time were the picturesque limestone outcrops of Padawan, which made for a pretty backdrop as the convoy made its way through the little-known route from the eastbound Kuching-Serian road to Krokong in Bau, to the west of Kuching.
The participants comprised a good mix of 4X4 regulars and old-timers, including several veterans of the Borneo Safari (Sabah) and Rainforest Challenge (Peninsular Malaysia) and a bunch of eager first-timers, all bright-eyed and bushy-tailed at the prospect of playing in mud and water.

The route took the convoy past the township of Kota Padawan, better known to locals simply as "10th Mile", past the mainly-Bidayuh villages of Kampung Benuk, Kg Giam, Kg Semadang, the Bengoh Dam Resettlement Scheme to Krokong, in Bau District.
After some 60 or so kilometres of tarmac from the flag-off at MJC, Batu Kawa, the radio chatter was beginning to show signs of boredom. "I'm feeling drowsy", "I'm falling asleep" and similar sentiments were broadcast in English, Malay, Hokkien, Hakka, Bidayuh and Foochow, and even Iban. This was the 4X4 equivalent of "Are we there yet?"
This is good, a sign of enthusiasm. Hope they are ready for what they wish for, in case they get it. There would be some mud, as promised in the programme, but that is always dependent on the weather, and a nice river crossing.
As the pictures show, they got what they wished for. By serious 4WD standards, the route through a mature oil palm estate wasn't all that tough for a well-equipped vehicle but with some members driving stock standard cars, and even with 20" wheels and road tyres, it threw up enough challenges to keep everyone entertained.
What was most encouraging was the absolutely positive attitude, the gung-ho, can-do spirit shown by all, especially the newbies. For them, coffeeshop discussions of techniques and equipment will become more meaningful now that they have seen some real action and, more importantly, what works and what does not.

I predict a windfall for some tyre shops in the Kuching area, especially those with the foresight to keep stock of MT tyres. There should also be a mini economic boom for the 4X4 accessories and camping gear dealers out there.
After a couple of hours of getting stuck in the mud and some first-hand practical lessons in recovery techniques using winches and snatch straps, the appetite for adventure was satiated and everyone was ready to to head to the campsite at Adis Buan, which happens to be less than 10km from my house. So, I went home, had a hot shower, uploaded a hundred or so photos to Facebook and took a short nap before heading over to join the guys and gals for beers and barbecue in the camp site.
The value in 4x4 Light events such as this jamboree lies in the exposure it gives to beginners, and the opportunity for them to put into practice some of the knowledge they may already have gained from listening to others and reading books and from the Internet.
Truth be told, it's a lot of fun as well even for the veterans, being a chance to share their experience with the young 'uns, and just simply doing what they love doing most, in the company of like-minded enthusiasts.
Thumbs up to SAKTA stalwarts, club president Laurence Baraw, Meek Mapes and all the other members who put their heart and soul into making it happen.

More photos here

A little bit lost, aren't we?

One is oh-so-ready for the mud, the other is not so ready.

But there are always friends willing and eager to lend a hand.

 

Oh Boy! That's deep!

Kembara also can!

Some prefer walking to wading ...

Nah, you wanted mud ... now, you got mud!

Even Billy the Golden Retriever got to join the fun in his Rover.