It Was A Dark And Stormy Night

It was a dark and stormy night. (I always wanted to start a story with that!) But it was really a dark night, at least. And it was raining. And there was a little lightning. So, yeah, a dark and stormy night it was on Jan 5, 2014.
My phone rang. I was not expecting any call. It was Alvin. He sells Fords for a living, and drives a Mitsubishi Triton. Why would he call me on this dark ... evening?
I pressed the green phone icon. "Hello?"
Alvin asked where I was and, before I could answer, launched into an excited stream of words that I could barely make out.
"Calm down, Alvin, I'm at home ... Bau, now tell me, slowly, what's going on."
The short version, he was also in Bau, at his wife's kampung, about 35 kilometres from my home. He had driven into a rubber estate to explore around 4pm, then decided to turn around when it started raining.
The track had become slippery very quickly, his Triton slipped off the track on its left side, coming to rest against a rubber tree. That tree propped up the truck and probably saved it from tumbling down the slope.
He needed rescuing. I was the nearest person he could contact who had a mission-ready 4X4, my trusty Borneo Safari veteran Land Rover Defender 110 HCPU (Hi-Capacity Pick-Up).

Not the best photo ever, but I was on a rescue mission, not a photo safari.

The game was afoot. Grabbed appropriate shoes, raincoat, hat (I did say it was a stormy night, didn't I) torch, straps, shackles, checked that remote control for the Warn 8274 was in the car, all good to go.
With the benefit of hindsight, should have also grabbed the handy VHF radio to go with the car-mounted mobile set, and extra torches. But I didn't. Managed without but would have been easier with.
Also, made a phone call to another buddy, Chai Yew Foo, to let him know what was happening. This was Plan B, always good to have back-up. He "rogered" and said he and his Landy Double Cab (DCPU) would be on standby. A quick post on Facebook mobile would also alert the local 4X4 community in case more help was needed later.
Road being wet and everything being dark, I drove cautiously and got to the Kg Stass junction about 45 minutes later, met up with Alvin and went to see about rescuing his stricken truck.
It was not that far from the main road, less than a kilometre.
After descending a mild slope to get to the site where the Triton was leaning against a tree, I hooked up the winch to his front recovery point and began reeling the plasma rope in.
No good, it only pulled my Defender down towards his truck.
Unhooked rope, drove in a little further and managed a tricky three-point turn and then tried to climb back up the slope.
The rain had turned the surface of the clay trail into a slick grease-like layer. There was no traction to be had, even on GT Radial Komodo MTs, which had proven quite competent in most other conditions.
A ditch running diagonally across the track ruled out a run-up to build up momentum for a charge up.
So, the plan evolved into a winch-up for the Defender, using a longer (8-metre) strap to tie the Triton to the Landy's rear bumper.
After three cycles of winching and relocating anchor point, I was sure that Alvin would be able to drive up on his own since the Defender no longer needed winching, it could climb under its own power.
But, no joy, his tyres just spun uselessly while the Triton swayed side to side. It was really slippery, and footing was treacherous for humans as well.
Only then did it occur to me to ask Alvin; "What tyres are you using?"
ATs, came the reply from the darkness. Ahhhhhh so. All Terrain tyres, a highly optimistic name.
Around this point, I really rued forgetting to bring the extra radio. It would have made communication between Alvin and me a whole lot easier.
So, the winching continued until the two-car train reached level ground.
Tired, thirsty, wet and very muddy, we had made it. The phone rang again, and it was Foo and another buddy, Keith, asking where we were and how things were going. They were on their way to our location, about five minutes away.
We waved off the cavalry, all was well and made arrangements to meet up for celebratory drinks at Bau town, about 20km away, after a quick clean-up at the Petronas station nearby.
And so, all was well that ended well. Alvin is looking for better mud tyres.
Now, if you'll excuse me, my phone is ringing ...

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.

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.

The "road" to Mulu

Who said "it's not the destination, it’s the journey”? That sounds like a nice philosophy if you’re into zen and all that mystical stuff. Personally, I think it’s a cop-out, a sorry excuse made up to console oneself when the destination turned out to be one huge, disappointing mistake.
Give me a good journey AND a good destination any time. Give me a trip to Mulu, and give it to me the old-fashioned way, of course.
For the benefit of the uninitiated, that’s the renowned Gunung Mulu National Park in the north-eastern corner of Sarawak, famed for its superlative caves – world’s largest cave chamber, South-East Asia’s longest cave passage, longest cave system, etc.
Twenty years on, memories of my first visit, and what felt like an epic journey then, are still vivid.
From the seaside town of Kuala Baram, about 25km from Miri, I had to take a pre-dawn express boat journey to the small riverside town Marudi, three hours away.
Change over to an open top longboat for another three-hour ride to an even smaller riverside town, Long Lama, where another transfer is required, to an even smaller longboat for the last stretch up the calm Melinau river.

Waiting for the Long Lama ferry.

Today, Mulu has become one of Sarawak’s most popular tourist destinations, thanks to regular flights that deliver visitors almost to the doorsteps of the first-class Royal Mulu Resort and another dozen or so lodgings clustered on the banks of the pristine Melinau river.
When the opportunity to revisit Mulu came up in April 2006, it was the destination that got me excited first.
Then came the offer I couldn’t refuse – it was a Ford Lanun Darat expedition so the trip would not be made either in progressively diminishing boats or Twin Otter aircraft. Instead, we would drive there in a convoy of four-wheel-drive vehicles.
For most of the journey, the Ford Ranger pick-ups and Everest SUVs would travel on a well-used trail from Miri to Long Bedian, a remote settlement of the Kayan tribe.
Just how remote is it? Well, it’s about 125km from Miri, and the natives have e-Bedian (check out www.unimas.my/ebedian) and lots of satellite dishes.
And, when the convoy of 25 or so vehicles finally rolled up at the longhouse after a long, hard and dusty journey, the native women whipped out their snazzy camera phones to snap pictures of the visitors from afar!
The drive to get there had been a gruelling ordeal of dust, bone-jarring bumps and monstrous hills with steep climbs and descents like roller coasters.

The dust was so thick in places that visibility was down to a couple of metres.
For city slickers, there was one thing worse than driving virtually blind – knowing that we were sharing the trails with monster 80-tonne logging trucks that dwarf most of the semi-trailers on peninsular highways.
The long drive to Long Bedian and our overnight rest stop at the nearby Tenyok Rimba community resort had taken the best part of an entire day, and sapped all of our energy.
The locals put on a warm welcome, complete with dancing girls and traditional music but most of us were simply too tired to party for long.
But, as I was to discover the next day, that was the easy part. Next stop, Mulu!
A quick look at the topographic map and a consultation with my trusty GPS showed the objective was less than 50km away. But, that’s in a straight line, and nothing goes anywhere in a straight line in this part of the world.
It turned out to be four-and-a-bit hours of traversing some of the steepest slopes and, at one stretch of around seven kilometres, definitely the bumpiest bit of dirt and stone trail I’ve ever driven across.

There was the added pressure of a deadline. We absolutely had to reach that dot on the map by 1.30pm or else we wouldn’t have enough time to make the last stretch into the national park and still have enough time to return to our camp before nightfall.
Jury-rigged bridges made from a couple of logs, hastily cleared landslides, dizzying heights of hills and plunging depths of valleys were all par for the course, which ended abruptly at the river.
With barely minutes to spare, we had made the rendezvous. There, patiently waiting for us were the boatmen who would ferry us on the final leg of the journey into the national park.
Unfortunately, the tight schedule meant we could not explore the wonders of Mulu at a leisurely pace.

After a short boat ride through a sudden yet typical thunderstorm, we climbed 200 steps up to the gaping mouth of the magnificent Clearwater Cave, South-East Asia’s longest cave passage with over a hundred kilometres surveyed.
Descending deep into the chasm on wobbly legs, I realised that every step downward meant yet another upward step that must be taken on the return trip, and all these steps would lead to the 200 steps back down to the river. So much for “the journey, not the destination”.
Still, there was just enough time for a refreshing dip in the crystal clear lagoon fed by the underwater river flowing out of the cave before heading off for a quick lunch and then back to the vehicles for the long, bumpy drive back to Tenyok Rimba.
More bumps, more dust and mud, many more hours of arduous driving lay ahead before we returned to “civilisation” but when our tyres finally met bitumen, I felt I could say that Lanun Darat #28 had been a tough but enjoyable journey to and from a great destination.

Worms grow big in the highlands!

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!