One Life. Live It. (The Camel & I)

Yours truly, circa May 1993, somewhere near Tenom, Sabah.

I was a part of something big a long time ago, something that has had a deep influence on me ever since. It has been nearly a quarter century since I got up close and personal with the ultimate 4X4 adventure, the Camel Trophy, and it is still a part of me. In my own mind at least.
No, I was not fortunate to have been one of the participants vying for the coveted Trophy. After being captivated by the cool and oh-so macho ads for several years, the opportunity to be among those rugged adventurers came along in 1992, when I was about to turn 30.
I was living and working as a journalist in Sabah when it was announced that the beautiful north Borneo state had been chosen to host Camel Trophy the following year, 1993.
What joy, what excitement! I had just completed my first ever major 4X4 expedition, the Borneo Safari, and was already hooked.
But my own life was in a state of flux. An opportunity had come along that I could not pass up, a chance to work with The Star, a major national newspaper that also meant a big step forward in my career from the small regional newspapers that I had been working for (and enjoyed doing so, might I add).

With Team Italia (from left) Giovanni Formica, me, Francesco Rapisarda,
Matteo Ghiazza and a journalist whose name I do not recall.

Not only were the Camel Trophy selection trials set during a period when I was busy with preparations for the big move across the South China Sea, the actual dates coincided with the wedding of my only brother. So, I had to pass on it, and probably miss my best opportunity to be a part of this great adventure.
While still in Sabah, shortly before Christmas, my Sunday morning lie-in was shattered by the telephone. I ignored it, but it would not stop. So, I had to get up and answer it.
“Paul, can you go to Milan?” It must be some kind of bad joke. On a Sunday morning. I had already resigned from my job in Sabah.
But the voice was familiar, the nice PR (public relations) lady from Sabah Tourism Promotion Corporation.
“Can you go to Milan?” she repeated when I mumbled something unintelligible.
“Milan, as in Italy?” I asked. The furthest I had been sent on assignment in the past three years was Semporna (yes, that’s also in Sabah).
“Of course Italy, is there any other? More importantly, do you have a passport?”
Yes, I had a passport, and within 24 hours, after a lot of hurrying to collect air tickets and round up cash, I was on my way to Europe for the very first time.
It was the bad luck of my good friend Freddie Ch’ng who was supposed to go but had his house broken into and his passport stolen a couple of days earlier. Sorry, Freddie, your loss was my gain.
The reason for this surprising turn of events was the Camel Trophy. The Italians had invited the then Sabah Foundation chairman, Tengku Adlin, to go and give a talk in the northern city of Milan about the coming event, in particular about the “Lost World” of the Maliau Basin.
So it was that a son of Borneo landed at Malpensa Airport, dressed in full Camel Adventure apparel while, all around, the local signoras were bundled up in furs and the gents in great coats.
The airport was being renovated so the aero-bridges could not be used. We had to walk across the tarmac to the terminal. I had brought winter gear but it was in the luggage. Not a good start.
After a few more misadventures through inexperience, we finally made it to the Milan office of RJ Reynolds, where their PR Francesco Rapisarda manager showed me what the Camel Trophy had been all about.

Tengku Adlin (2nd right, front row) and the other local officials.

In the event just past, Guyana 1992, the clippings from newspaper coverage alone, excluding other media, was compiled into a book two inches (50mm) thick! That was how wildly popular the Camel Trophy was!
He reeled off more figures - more than a million Germans had applied to take part, along with several hundreds of thousands in each of the other European nations involved, including Italy, the Netherlands, Portugal, Spain, Russia, etc.
We were then introduced to the Italian team of Matteo Ghiazza and Giovanni Formica, who would pilot the Sandglow Discovery through the jungle trails of Sabah in the coming months.
Tengku Adlin gave a passionate speech about the wonders of Sabah that they could look forward to seeing, and we learned that state’s name may not be familiar to the Italians but they all knew the name of Sandakan. Well, Sandokan anyway, close enough. Apparently, it is a place featured in a popular series of stories for children so every Italian grew up dreaming of visiting Sandokan some day.

An icon of Camel Trophy, the pontoon raft in action.

For the fortunate four (two primary participants and two reserves) from each other participating nations, Italy continued to be a part of the story because a week of intensive training was held in the mountainous north of the country. But I was not a part of that and, in fact, thought that was about as close as I would ever get to the iconic event.
I was in Kuala Lumpur when the adventurers and crew flew into Kota Kinabalu.
Then, another unexpected phone call. Would I like to go back to Sabah? To cover the Camel Trophy?
And just like that, I was off on another adventure, this time even greater than Milan.
Leaving familiar KK behind, I could barely believe I was really going to be part of the great adventure as I rode the rickety train from Tanjung Aru to Beaufort where we joined up with the convoy of yellow (okay, technically Sandglow) Land Rovers, also riding on a special train, on our way to Tenom.

It felt like being in an Indiana Jones movie as we enjoyed the scenic views of the Padas Gorge from the flatbed cars and carriages reminiscent of the Wild Wild West while a couple of helicopters swooped up and down the railway, shooting video.
The next few days were spent camping near the river as the participants were put through their paces, competing in various special stages and exhibiting newly-acquired skills in setting up the inflatable pontoon raft that could ferry a heavily laden Discovery across the river.
To say I was happy would have been an understatement. I loved the challenges, the great outdoors, the camaraderie of the multinational participants and crew, as well as the local 4X4 enthusiasts from the Kinabalu Four Wheel Drive Club (KFWDC) who were drafted as officials. Many of them remain my friends to this day.
Riding on the roof of a Discovery as the convoy made its way back to KK for the finale was icing on the cake.
The Americans won the Camel Trophy that year and the popular and ever-cheerful team from the Canary Island were presented with the Team Spirit Award.

The Malaysian team did not do so well, coming 16th out of 16 competing teams. Some things did not go well that are best left unsaid as I prefer to focus on the positives that came out of the event, and these were huge.
I longed to own one of those magnificent Land Rovers but, for many years, it remained a dream that was out of reach.
I settled for buying and wearing the Camel Adventure apparel, boots, watch, and whatever memorabilia I could lay my hands on.
From the first 4WD, a beat-up Isuzu Trooper I acquired in Sabah just before the 1993 event, I went on to buy more 4X4s, and eventually owned only 4X4s and no saloon cars. As part of the job, I had chances to take part in other adventures, including numerous Ford Lanun Darat trips, the Trans Sahara 2004 with the Petronas Adventure Team, the Mercedes-benz Paris-Beijing 2006 and several Ford Adventures in Cambodia.
But, I never forgot the dream and one day in 2008, I managed to buy a used Discovery of my own so that I could build a replica. I called it “Humphrey” because the Discovery has a hump in the roof, and of course, camels, too. And it is ever so English, like Land Rovers.

'Humphrey' on adventure.

I have gone on to more memorable adventures after shipping it and myself back to my home state of Sarawak, to explore the highlands of Long Semadoh and Ba’kelalan, and crossed the border into the Indonesian part of Borneo, retracing parts of the Camel Trophy 1996 route through Kalimantan to Balikpapan, and visiting Banjarmasin, Sampit, Pontianak and other exotic places.
One is never enough, so I went and acquired a 1986 Land Rover 110, and then another, this time a 2012 Defender. Eventually, the newcomers were also repainted in that iconic shade of yellow, Sandglow LRC 361. So yes, you could say I liked the Camel Trophy.
Out of the blue, on the 25th of July, 2015, I received an email from a Mr. Nick Leadbeter, Chairman of the UK-based Camel Trophy Club, inviting me to be an Honorary Life Member. I am honoured, and I accepted.
The adventure continues even if the event itself ended with the old millennium.
So, what is it that made the Camel Trophy so special to me? Yes, it was a marketing exercise, with interested parties trying to get you to buy their stuff. But unlike the millions of other advertising stunts we are bombarded with each day, the event took on a life of its own, one that was larger than real life.
The beautifully shot stills and videos in the ad campaigns sold us on the idea that there was more to life than the daily grind, that there was a big, wide world out there that we could go explore, even in the late 20th century.
The reality was even better. Gather the fittest and brightest young men and women (military folks excepted) from around the world, give them identical vehicles and equipment, and let them loose on the wildest and toughest terrain out there.
While the “Trophy” bit shows it was a competition, and there were indeed competitive stages that pitted one nation against another, what really made the Camel Trophy memorable was the transport stages.
“Transport” may sound humdrum but just getting from Point A to B in the areas that Camel Trophy went to was truly an adventure.
Mud and sand, bogs and dunes, giant trees or not a blade of green at all, the organisers went out of their way, literally, to scout the world’s most inhospitable places. The Amazon, the Congo, Borneo, Patagonia, Siberia, the Maya heartland, all locales whose names alone would excite Indiana Jones as well as wannabes.
And the best, really best part, was the teamwork that got everyone and every car through each seemingly impassable obstacle. Russians working alongside French helping Japanese and Portuguese, all communicating with some English and a shared love of adventure.
When the finale was over and the trophies handed out, what really remained for the participants and fans was not who won or did not win, but the extraordinary experiences they had shared along the way.
Of course, the event was a big boost for Land Rover as well, even if the reality was that Camel Trophy actually began with three Jeeps! Over the years, unforgettable of the various models of Solihull’s finest have been etched permanently in the subconscious - a Landy can go anywhere, if the drivers are up to it. Which is why I ended up with three of them.
One Life. Live It.

Matteo Ghiazza blows his horn.

More vintage photos from Camel Trophy Sabah 1993

Today ... because one is never enough.

More pictures of "Humphrey - The Making Of ..."

An honour, gratefully accepted. Thanks, guys.

Come Hell or High Water - Drama at Tawai (Imbak Canyon)

When things go wrong, events often happen so fast that most people do not know what to do. They need time to think, to figure out what is the best course of action, to work out a solution.

Only, there is simply no time. Faced with such a crisis last week, Michael "Mike" Jose did not waste a moment. He grabbed a winch cable - literally the only lifeline around - and plunged headlong into the raging torrent.

His was the first life at risk, and he laid it on the line because his friends were in danger.

The stream less than 30 minutes earlier.

Barely half an hour earlier, I had driven across a calm stream, with water so clear we could see the smooth stones lining the bottom. It was 3.28pm, according to the EXIF data from photos and videos I took while fording the shallow water. 

The location was N 5.459667 E 117.159667, a place called Tawai, about 19 kilometres south of Telupid town.
It was October 28, Day Three (of eight) of Borneo Safari 2014, a planned 1,300km trek that had taken us thus far north from Kota Kinabalu to Pitas and Kota Marudu, and back south to Telupid.
There had not been much action in the first two days, only a lot of tarmac, and there were already rumblings of discontent about how boring the event was turning out to be. We should have been more careful about "what you wish for ..."
By the time panicky and frantic shouts over the VHF radio drew me back to the scene, Hilary "Alee Boy" Francis was in deep trouble.

I grabbed my camera and snapped the first shot of the unfolding drama at 4.07pm.

Hilary's Trooper was stranded in the middle of the stream, now swollen by heavy rain upstream into a ferocious, life-threatening monster. He was not alone as his wife Lynn was in the back seat, and Isuzu Malaysia manager Azhar was in the front passenger's seat, all of them with water up to their chests. And the water level was still rising, rapidly.

There was a lot of shouting among the crowds that had gathered on either bank.

Then, Mike picked up the winch cable and dived into the swift current. He was swept away almost immediately but had planned his path correctly and was pushed up against the quickly sinking vehicle. Ignoring the pain of being buffeted by swift water against hard steel and on the verge of drowning, he managed to secure the steel wire rope to the wildly rocking Trooper. 

There was now a glimmer of hope for the vehicle's three occupants, plus Mike himself, by now also stranded in the middle of the angry currents.

Meanwhile, the Isuzu's soaked electrical system began shorting out, winding up Hilary's power window as he tried desperately, fruitlessly, to keep it down. At one point, the wipers started sweeping the windscreen, all on their own. 

The danger was far from over. While the single winch line was able to prevent the car from being swept downstream, the current still threatened to topple it on its side. 

By then, enough time had passed for plans to form, and a light nylon line was successfully thrown from the far bank out to the trapped occupants, who then used it to pull a second winch cable anchored to a vehicle on that side.

With two cables, one on either side, the situation stabilised a bit. The tension of the two winches had to be adjusted constantly to prevent the car toppling over as the current pushed it one way, then the other. 

But the water level was still rising fast and soon, all four people were up on the roof of the car.

All hopes of winching the vehicle to safety faded, and thoughts now turned to saving the four lives.An empty jerry can was turned into a makeshift life preserver, used to throw a line out to the trapped people.

It was not easy but after some hairy misses, all four were eventually pulled to safety, soaked and shivering but alive.

Mike was not the only one who rushed to assist, there were many others who also helped to rig up the cars, lines and other equipment without which success would not have been possible. 

But it is clear that his role was critical to the rescue. If he had not made the initial plunge when he did, the rest would not have mattered. And, by the time the others went into the current to help, they at least had a safety line to cling to, the line that Mike had swum out to attach earlier.

The water continued rising until the Trooper's roof was all that could be seen. There was not much else that could be done except to prepare some hot food and drinks for the survivors and get them into dry clothes.

The unfortunate Trooper remained submerged a further 15 hours until 7.30am the following morning, when the river had subsided enough for it to be pulled onto dry land.

Eager hands got to work and within a few hours, all the water had been drained, oils changed and it was running like a Trooper again. The show must go on.

Hilary is safe but helpless to save his car.

There was another twist in the tale, towards the end. When every official and participant gathered at the Hakka Hall in Kota Kinabalu on the evening of Sunday, November 2, to celebrate the conclusion of another successful Borneo Safari, Mike was not present. 

When he should have been feted as Man Of The Hour, indeed of the entire event, for his heroism at Tawai, a series of miscommunication ended up with him not having a ticket to attend the official dinner, even as many groups reported that they had extra tickets because some members could not attend. Something must be done to put right this sad turn of events. 

Mike George Awa is a 26-year-old Lun Bawang from Long Sukang, near Lawas, Sarawak. He is an experienced mechanic whose resume includes supporting the Japanese team that competed in previous Borneo Safaris.  

Not quite Borneo Suffering, but still Drama kot

When Sabahans tell you that a 4X4 expedition is "hard core", believe them. When they say the next trip will be super hard core, be afraid. Be very afraid. Especially if they invite you to go along, and you're freshly out of excuses to decline.
For years, I've been hearing about this place called Deramakot. Whenever Sabah Offroad Adventure Association (SOAA) members get together and the chat turns to how tough a just-ended trip had been, it crops up, "have you been to Deramakot?" It means "you don't know what tough is till you've done it."
If you have been, then the recent event is compared to Deramakot. If you have not, you shut up and listen to the veterans' tall tales about winching 30 times to get up one hill. About taking a whole day to cover one leech-infested kilometre, about having to drag along crippled and broken-down vehicles when even the best-equipped, fully functioning Land Cruisers find the going torturously slow.
And the SOAA has a couple of RTM-made videos on YouTube to back up their claims.
Deramakot Forest Reserve comprises 55,139 hectares of mixed dipterocarp forest located some 160km south-east of Kota Kinabalu and 90km south-west of Sandakan.
Within its boundaries, there are several disused logging trails that can be explored with suitably-outfitted 4X4 vehicles, with prior permission from and under close supervision by the Sabah Forestry Department.

Over the years, these trails have provided a suitable challenge for many expeditions big and small, including the annual Borneo Safari organised by the Kinabalu Four Wheel Drive Club (now evolved into the Sabah Four Wheel Association).

In January last year, the SOAA mounted its first expedition to Deramakot, dubbed "Survival Of The Fittest" that apparently lived up to its billing, and then some. They're still talking about it.
Like a good horror movie, the tales are both scary and irresistible at the same time. The hard slog that went on day and night as the rain hammered down incessantly, and the numerous obstacles that broke even the toughest vehicles, should have been enough to deter any sensible person from attempting the trek again but, like a flame draws a moth, the stories only drew even more 4X4 aficionados to Survival Of The Fittest II.
"Our members have been clamouring for a return to Deramakot, especially those who missed out on the first round last year," said SOAA president Hiew Min Kiyun.
When they invited this writer to go along, the reaction was definitely one of mixed feelings. The experience would be welcome, as would the bragging rights as a survivor of Deramakot. But, being more of a leisure, cold beer and camping kind of guy, did I really want to suffer for three days and two nights? Well, the pull was strong, and the push was that I had run out of excuses.
Hopping into the Land Cruiser 80 Series, the legendary "Ninja Turtle" of Expedition Leader Alvin Leong and co-driver Vivian Julip for the 200-plus kilometre drive from KK through Kundasang and Ranau to Telupid, I was treated to more war stories from the previous year's trip.
After turning off onto the unpaved track to the forest reserve, there were hints that this year's event might be less stressful, even if just a little.
The local weather had been dry for some time, and the dusty road had coated the grass and oil palms that lined the70km route with a thick layer of orange-brown dirt. Anyone who has experienced off-road driving would know that the difference between a dry and a wet track can be huge.
But, just after the convoy arrived at Sabah Forestry headquarters and set up camp, the rain began. Game on! Maybe. The shower did not last long.
After dinner, the participants were required to attend a briefing by the forest rangers on the Deramakot Forest Management Unit's reason for being and the many do's and don'ts for all visitors, especially the strict rules on trash - everything brought in, even cigarette butts, must be taken out from the jungle.

The repairs begin ... after less than 1km.

Action began early the next morning when the convoy encountered a deep V-gulley just 800 metres after turning off the road and winching started in earnest and the first leeches showed up.
The first mechanical problems cropped soon after, with a ruptured air intake hose signalling that the vehicles were in for a pounding.
The horror stories of the previous trip had inspired all car owners to check and prepare their vehicles meticulously but Deramakot seemed determined to live up to its reputation, even if the sun was blazing down at that early hour.
This was going to be a contest between Man and machine on one side, and Nature on the other.
The trail had not been traversed by vehicles in over a year, and was thickly overgrown.

And here they come ...

The 4X4s had to force their way through grass and other plants that were as tall as a man, while branches and bamboo reached out from the sides to claw at the passing vehicles.
At times, it sounded like a bunch of unruly children were whacking the cars with sticks while others were scratching blackboards with their fingernails.
From then on, it was hard going but not super hard core. There was no rain. The ruts were deep, the hills steep, but no rain. Progress was slow at an average of about 5km/h, but that's fast compared to a kilometre a day of previous Deramakots. Because there was no rain.
It was still very much a hard core event, with lots of winching and breakdowns but, for the well-prepared cars and participants, not the ultimate hard core event that had been anticipated.
By day's end, the convoy had covered about 12 kilometres of the 20km trail before stopping to set up camp and fend off the few leeches that showed up.

The next day served up some mud pools and fallen trees but everyone made it out in good time and camped in relative comfort at the "White House", a bungalow for the staff of Deramakot.
The third night that had been allocated for the event was spent at Mesilou, about 5,800feet above sea level up in the Kinabalu highlands, where the freezing temperatures were a welcome change from the windless heat and humidity of Deramakot jungle.
While everyone was glad to be out without too much human suffering and damage to vehicles, many participants were left with a feeling of unfinished business.
While it was still a Drama-kot, it was not quite the "Borneo Suffering" we had anticipated. There is a need for a Survival Of The Fittest III, preferably during the wet season. But at least I am now ranked among the Fittest!

Human ballast to prevent a 3-tonne beast toppling into the mud pool.

A cry of "pacat" (leech) is enough to get squeamish types to drop their pants!

About Deramakot Forest Reserve

Map courtesy of Sabah Forestry Department.

There are logging trucks in Deramakot Forest Reserve. Because there are loggers. Yes, they cut down trees. No, it is not a mistake, nor is it a blatant disregard of regulations.
The reserve's raison d'etre, its reason for existence, is to conserve the natural resources, not to preserve. While it may be puzzling to first-time visitors, there is no confusion among those rangers who serve.
Deramakot is billed as a "well-managed forest" to be used and exploited responsibly for the benefit of the state and its people, not a virgin jungle to be preserved.
According to www.deramakot.sabah.gov.my, it was created in 1989 when the Sabah government realised that the state's forests was being depleted, including Deramakot. With help from the German Agency for Technical Cooperation (GTZ), it developed a management system aimed at responsible production of timber for logged-over forests.
The goal is "ecologically and scientifically acceptable forest management ... the intent is to manage the commercial forest reserves in a way that mimics natural processes for production of low volume, high quality, high priced timber products in a sustainable manner.
"Sustainability is defined in terms of balance nutrient cycles, forest structure, biodiversity, forest function and socio-economic needs."
"DFR will be managed under sound forest management practices in accordance with the biological, social and economic principles defined by the International Tropical Timber Organisation (ITTO), Malaysian Criteria and Indicators (MC&I), and in conformity with the existing State forest policies, environmental policies, legislation and regulations."
At the briefing for participants of SOAA's "Survival Of The Fittest II", the senior ranger said that selected trees were harvested by appointed contractors who are paid for their services while the logs are auctioned off to the highest bidders. The proceeds go to the state and are used, among other things, to pay for the upkeep and protection of the forest reserves.
The local communities living nearby are also looked after through a committee called the "Deramakot Social Forestry Committee (DSFC)". Periodic consultations with the local communities are held every 4 months.
There are no communities inside the reserve, but five villages (each comprising 20 - 50 households) located on the southern fringe of Deramakot FR have been identified.
The stated goals are to provide training and developing skills such as producing functional and decorative handicraft to ensure local communities of a livelihood; provide basic amenities such as clean water, school, etc.; and to create jobs, in line with the government policy to eradicate rural poverty.
Wildlife is also protected, with about 75% of mammals in Sabah found in Deramakot, which is a key habitat for five globally threatened large mammals: Orangutan, Pygmy Eephant, Tembadau (Banteng), Proboscis Monkey and Clouded Leopard.
Eco-tourism, defined as "responsible travel to fragile, pristine, and usually protected areas that strive to be low impact and (often) small scale (as an alternative to mass tourism)", is also encouraged.
Its purpose is to educate the traveler, provide funds for ecological conservation, directly benefit the economic development of local communities.
Hence, events like the 4X4 adventure organised by SOAA and earlier Borneo Safaris (by the Kinabalu Four Wheel Drive Club) are welcome, with strict conditions and, of course, payment of fees.
The visitors must be accompanied by forest rangers who ensure that all rules, especially those governing cleanliness and wildlife protection, are complied with at all times.

Playing Dirty, Staying Clean

There's ordinary dirty, and there's Ba'kelalan dirty.

Does your car wash kit include a spade? Ah Ngiu's does.

This is a black truck. Pic courtesy of Vance Lee.

When you take a 4X4 out to play in the mud, it's going to get muddy. That's kind of obvious, don't you think? So, we've established that 4X4 people don't mind getting their cars dirty.
But there's dirty, and there's really dirty, really very dirty and then there's outright filthy. Ordinary dirty is fine, that's no worse than driving on any city road in Malaysia after it rains, and especially just after you've washed your beloved ride.
But out on the trail, things get really messy. There are many kinds of mud, of varying viscosity and consistency and colour. Some will stick to your door handles, and windscreen, and side windows, and side mirrors, and cling o your shoes when you step out. All this is OK, all part and parcel of offroading.

Then there's the mud that gets shoved into every nook and crevice underneath the car, coating the suspension, steering, propshafts, gearbox ... in short, everything. And there's mud that clogs up the wheels (or rims, if you prefer) which is great for taking photos of that tell your friends how tough the trip was and, by extension, how tough you are. They are also okay, until you get back on the tarmac and begin to drive at normal road speeds, at which point they may cause enough imbalance in your front wheels to cause varying degrees of vibration.
One of the most important factors that determine how well your4X4 vehicle progresses in rough terrain is the tyres. Generally speaking, the bigger the tyres, and the more aggressive the treads, the better your progress will be.
To fit bigger-than-standard tyres, you'd probably need a new set of wheels that have a more negative offset than standard, i.e., they place the tyres further from the car's body. Without this extra offset, chances are high that the front tyres will foul parts of the wheel arch or suspension components or other parts of the body work.
But the negative offset (relative to standard wheels) will likely push the outer edge of the tyres beyond the car's fenders or mudguards. If aftermarket fenders are not added to ensure the tyres are shielded, then they will throw up mud with every turn, and this mud will end up all over the sides of the car. If the tyres protrude enough, it does not take much dirty driving to have the entire sides, including the windows, completely caked with mud.

The problem then is you won't be able to see. The front windscreen will also get dirt but at least the wipers and washer jets can help keep it clean enough that there is visibility directly to the front but you may have zero visibility to either side. It's safe to say that this is not a safe situation to be in when negotiating difficult terrain.
Furthermore, it is also illegal to have tyres protrude beyond the car's bodywork so, while it may make your truck look mucho macho, it will also attract the unwelcome attention of the JPJ and possibly the police.
To avoid all these problems, the solution is to add wider fenders that sufficiently cover the tyres.
There are two main types available - the rigid or semi-rigid types that are specifically made for a particular vehicle. For example, a Land Cruiser owner will have to find the specific model of fender made for his particular model car, and it will be different from those for Ford Rangers, which are different from the type for Mitsubishi Tritons, and so on. These would usually be the best option if looks are important but they tend to be fairly expensive. Try checking the various accessory reatilers on the web to find out just how much.
A cheaper solution is generic flexible flares that are one type, suits all makes. I came across a Facebook post by Billy Chan advertising this type for sale, and followed up with the advertiser, Ambassador Industrial (M) Sdn Bhd, a Malaysian subsidiary of an Australian company. For further information on the product, shipping and pricing call Billy on 0193250187 or message him through Facebook.
Now, let's get technical. Their product is flexible fenders extensions made from EPDM rubber (ethylene propylene diene monomer). I have forgotten most of my high school chemistry so this is what wikipedia has to say about EPDM: a type of synthetic rubber, is an elastomer which is characterized by a wide range of applications.
The E refers to ethylene, P to propylene, D to diene and M refers to its classification in ASTM standard D-1418. The M class includes rubbers having a saturated chain of the polymethylene type. Dienes currently used in the manufacture of EPDM rubbers are dicyclopentadiene (DCPD), ethylidene norbornene (ENB), and vinyl norbornene (VNB).
The main advantage is that it is cheap and cheerful. An average 4X4 needs 6 metres of the material, and this costs less than RM200, inclusive of courier delivery (to Kuching, in my case). This sum is to cover all four corners.
Moving along, I placed an order and within a couple of days, had the product in my hands. They had several profiles available and I asked for two types because of my peculiar needs.
My Land Rover 110 Defender High Capacity Pick-up (HCPU) is different from most other vehicles in the fender department because it has cargo tub that's wider than the cabin, so it comes from the factory with front fender flares as standard, but none for the rear. If it had been left well alone to run on standard tyres and wheels, this arrangement would have been fine because the every part of all four tyres would be completely covered. But, as mentioned above ...

Pneumatic riveter, broad head rivets ...

Fitting was relatively straightforward, requiring basic DIY skills, a power drill and a riveter with some 35 to 36 rivets. I chose to get professional help because there's this friend who has all kinds of nifty tools, like a pneumatic (compressed air-powered) rivet gun which makes everything so much more effortless, and also a supply of special rivets with extra wide heads that mean washers are not needed.
Only when we had gone more than half way through did we realise something was not quite right, and the flares looked wrinkly. So, we got a couple of strips of 1.3mm aluminium plate and riveted them as support, and it worked a treat.

A bit crooked ... but sorted eventually.

Later, I found out from Ambassador that the fender flare type I was using, WF 100, had a small hole running along the outer edge that I was supposed to thread a steel wire through to stiffen it. Ah so. But it was already installed and shoving a wire through is definitely easier done before the rubber is bent to fit the flare. So if you are inspired by this post to try the flares, take note.
The finished fenders look good, and the last couple of rainy days have confirmed that they work well in their intended roles.
That is, they will stop your car getting dirty from mud and other gunk thrown up by your own tyres. They are not guaranteed to keep your car shiny clean because there are so many other sources and causes out there that can dirty your pride and joy.
How well they hold up to abuse in the rough stuff, we will know only by putting it to more tests, including the tests of time. Stay tuned for updates.

Photos here

Before ... wheel sticks out.

After ... all covered up.

There are several profiles and widths available, to suit various needs.

I Heart Sabah ...

How time flies! It seemed like only yesterday I was back in Sabah after a long time away (having left in January 1993). Now, it's been 10 years since I went back to Kota Kinabalu in October, 2003, with the now-defunct Ford Lanun Darat programme. Much has changed. Back then, it was near-impossible to find camping gear in KK, now there are many shops offering first rate items.
Memories came rushing back on the Borneo Safari recently, when the first day's campsite at Kiulu seemed so familiar. Then ... of course, it was where we camped during Lanun Darat #17!
Sabah was where it all began for me ... 4X4, that is. First, the early years of the Borneo Safari in the early 1990s, then the unforgettable Camel Trophy of 1993.
Lanun Darat was a very successful and popular programme run by Ford to help customers of its Ranger and Everest 4X4s to learn the fundamentals of 4WD and how to get the most out of their vehicles while enjoying the great outdoors. It ended several years ago but there is talk, and some hope of it being revived. If you own a Ford 4X4 and want to see that happen, do let Sime Darby Auto Connexion know how you feel. Call them, write to them, text them, twit it ...  

My story from October 2003

IN Sabah, everyone drives a 4X4 vehicle. At least, that seems to be the perception among other Malaysians. A first-time visitor stepping out of the Kota Kinabalu International Airport may well think that this is one rough country, given the number and variety of tough-looking vehicles in the parking lot.
Toyota Landcruisers and Hiluxes, Nissan Patrols, Isuzu Invaders and Troopers and Land Rovers are everywhere. And, in the past few years, the Ford Ranger has won over many Sabahans as well.
Ford Malaysia, recognising the importance of this easternmost state’s importance as a market for its pick-ups, recently held the first-ever Lanun Darat 4X4 expedition for Sabahans who own the Ranger.

Since the programme began five years ago, the 16 previous expeditions in Peninsular Malaysia have proved very popular among owners of the tough Ford trucks, many of whom return again and again for more thrills. It is also an avenue for Ford to maintain close rapport with its customers.
Lanun Darat #17 proved to be different in several ways. Logistics was the first challenge since quite a lot of equipment had to be flown in or shipped over from the peninsula.
For example, Kuala Lumpur offers shoppers a bewildering choice of tents, sleeping bags and other camping gear. But the options are limited in Sabah. Therefore, these items had to be purchased in KL and shipped over, and then distributed, free of charge, to the hundred or so participants who had eagerly signed up for the event.
When all these difficulties had been overcome, Sabah showed that it had many advantages for the kind of back-to-nature adventure that the Lanun Darat programme aims to promote.
A typical Lanun Darat event in the west would require two to three hours of highway motoring before the dirty bit - the real fun - began. In Sabah, the adventure started less than 10km from the flag-off, held at the Ford Concessionaires facility in Inanam, a light industrial area just outside KK.
The terrain was spectacular. One minute, you were on a rather ordinary country road. One left turn later, the trail began climbing steeply, and kept getting steeper.

For those of us from West Malaysia who had gone along for the ride, the most amazing part about these tracks, which were so steep that low-ratio gears had to be engaged, was that the local residents traversed them daily, to and from their homes.
The GPS (Global Positioning System) showed that we were less than 30km, as the crow flies, from downtown KK. No wonder the high percentage of 4X4 vehicles in Sabah – there are so many places people need to go to which ordinary cars simply cannot reach.
Before long, the convoy of 35 Rangers moved into the really mountainous area of Kiulu, where swift streams churned up excitement and trepidation in equal measures.
First-timers probably felt queasy watching the truck before theirs plunge into the fast current, and seeing those big wheels disappear beneath the seething waters.
The knowledge that it was safe, that the guy in front made it across, should be reassuring. And, it was, but you just couldn’t help worrying a little. What if I got it wrong? There were so many things that could go wrong: going in too fast or too slow; steering too far right or left; easing off the accelerator too early or too late ...
And then it was over, and with success, a feeling of overwhelming exhilaration, of achievement! It was great. This was what life’s all about! Until the next, bigger, deeper and faster stream.
All along the way, we learnt from each other. There was always some useful tip someone else had which I had not thought or heard of, or something I considered basic but which the other fellow never knew.
There was also the spectacular scenery to savour while negotiating rocky tracks that clung precariously to the near-perpendicular sides of hills which soared straight up on one side and, on the other, dropped to lush green bamboo-clad valleys a long, long way below.
We camped next to a lovely boulder-strewn river which provided crystal-clear water for bathing, and a farmer’ s hut which had Astro, via which the Sabahan football fans watched their team lose to MPPJ.
Lanun Darat ended with a drive along the white sandy beach to the Rasa Ria Resort at Pantai Dalit. By then, the participants did not need any prompting when asked if another such event would be a good idea.

Deja view ... same place (as photo above), 10 years later.

'Twas a good year ... 2008

You know it's gonna be wet ...

I cannot speak for the rest of the world but 2008 was a good year for me. I got to tick off several boxes on my to-do list, including driving a topless Lamborghini through the hills of Bologna and bit of backpacking in Italy, all without any work involved.
But the highlights came towards the end of the year, when I got to indulge to the max in my passion — 4X4 adventure.
There was a bit of worry, initially. It looked like nature was going to pour cold water on my plans to enjoy Sabah's famous Borneo Safari, with a weather alert warning of heavy rainfall towards the end of October.
The expected deluge might cause ''flash floods and mudslides in low-lying areas and river banks'', the met boys warned, in ''Sabah's coastal areas and the interior''. (Call me an alarmist but wouldn't that description cover the WHOLE state?)
This was to be a homecoming of sorts for me because I had lived in Sabah for several years in the early 1990s, and the 1992 edition of the Borneo Safari was my induction into the world of hardcore 4X4 (followed by the inimitable Camel Trophy of 1993).
In this hobby of ''challenging nature'', rain means tough trail conditions. But that's regarded as a promise, not a threat. It is something to welcome, not to dread.

The one and only Camel Trophy, Sabah 1993.

But, there can also easily be too much of a good thing. Memories are still fresh of the watery disaster of 2007 edition of the Malaysian Rainforest Challenge in Terengganu, forcing participants to abandon nearly 50 vehicles to the rising waters and flee in rescue boats sent in by the authorities.
When our small contingent from the peninsula, comprising journalists, photographers and representatives of Borneo Safari media sponsor, Isuzu Malaysia, arrived at Kota Kinabalu, it looked as if the gloomy outlook was justified.
The sky was a sullen grey and, according to our hosts from the Kinabalu Four Wheel Drive Club (KFWDC), it had been raining continuously for the past several days. Yup, the 18th Borneo Safari was going to be fun.
Sabah delivered on its promise, serving up mud galore. For the first two days and nights, it was either raining, drizzling or about to pour again.
Anywhere that the chunky tires of heavily-laden 4X4s rolled over, the ground was churned into a greyish mush. Driving was a challenge, and simply walking anywhere was an ordeal that required placing one foot in front of the other, gingerly.
Every piece of kit — shirts, shorts, hats, socks, bags, camp cots — got wet. And we hadn't even gone into the jungle proper yet!
Finally, the sun shone weakly through the clouds on the morning of

''Co-drivers forward with tools.''

Day Three, and not a moment too soon, for the hard part of the eight-day expedition was about to begin.
Only a few minutes had elapsed after I put ''my'' Isuzu D-Max (affectionately dubbed The Monster) in gear when the two-way radio crackled to life. ''Co-drivers forward with tools.'' We hadn't even cleared the camp site and the front of the kilometre-long convoy had already run into an obstacle!
Thankfully, the sun was shining warmly by now but the previous days' rain had dumped part of a hillside across the track. The medium-sized landslide was not a problem, just a challenge — this is, after all, the Borneo Safari.
With willing limbs and strong backs wielding shovels and hoes, the mess of fallen clay was bashed into a passable — albeit barely — path. Winches would be needed.
When my turn came, the Isuzu's 3.0l common rail diesel was more than up to the task, until it reached a point the tyres had no purchase at all. Out came the winch and recovery kit and, with a bit of grunting and a lot of sweat, we crawled to the crest of the hill.
It was a slow, laborious process that had to be repeated every so often, taking several hours before the entire 120-vehicle convoy made it through. It was going to be a long day. It was going to be a classic Borneo Safari.

Just a couple of kilometres up the trail, another steep, deeply rutted slope slowed progress again and yet again, power was applied, the winch cable came out, and the trek continued.
From then on until the expedition's end, the recovery paraphernalia, including snatch straps, shackles and so on, were no longer stowed away neatly but kept conveniently at hand. Until the next obstacle ... err, challenge.
Over the coming week, it would be a routine all the 300 or so participants would become familiar with — the increased radio traffic signalling an obstacle, the queue, the work, the charge through or up difficult stretches, the recovery, and the journey resuming. Slip, slide, stick, dig, push, pull, winch, then go, and repeat.
One of the most comforting aspects of the Safari is the overwhelming hospitality that Sabahans are justifiably famed for, and the large number of fellow travellers who are either mechanics, workshop owners or otherwise mechanically competent.
Whenever a vehicle breaks some part or gets into some other trouble, there are no worries because help is always at hand, all delivered calmly, with a smile, and without fuss.
Twice, the convoy stayed at the same campsite two nights in a row, giving most of the participants time to relax and dry off their wet stuff while enjoying the exciting spectacle of the competitors in action in the arena of the magnificent Crocker Range.

The perfect finale to a great adventure was the final night's camp along the pristine beach of Kuala Penyu, on Sabah's southwest coast.
With a sublime sunset as backdrop, new and old friends gathered around flickering campfires, beer in hand and sucking on freshly cooked local shells, to swap tales about the trials and triumphs of the past week.
There was still the closing ceremony to come, winners to be announced and prizes to be presented. But I had already made a decision: Yes, I'll clear my calendar for end October, 2009.
A couple of weeks later, with memories of Sabah still fresh and leech bites still itching, I was making tracks to Terengganu for another wet and muddy rendezvous — the Rainforest Challenge 2008, dubbed ''The Unfinished Business''. Truly, my cup runneth over — with rainwater and mud!