'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!

Oil everywhere, not a drop to be found

The Blast From The Past series continues with an ironic problem. In an oil-rich country where electricity is so cheap that the people leave their light bulbs on all day, the Petronas Adventure Team runs out of fuel deep in the desert.

With the cars running on fumes and no Petronas station in sight, set up camp.

AN oil crisis is the last thing anyone expects in Libya , where petroleum supposedly oozes from the ground. Yet, that was exactly what the Petronas Adventure Team (PAT) had to cope with as the sun set on Sept 13, 2004, Day 15 of the Trans Sahara 2004.
The convoy comprised 18 four-wheel-drive (4WD) vehicles, rigged with extra fuel tanks and jerry cans that can carry about 200 litres of diesel each.
That evening, every driver had been mesmerised by the amber low-fuel warning light; it didn’t help that the nearest fuel station was at the oasis of Waw el Kabir, 178km away as the crow flies, but there are no crows deep in the Sahara , and no one here travels in a straight line for long.
The problem began when the convoy rolled into the oasis of Tazerbu, about 650km south of Benghazi , the scheduled refuelling stop, on the night of Sept 12. Unfortunately, the petrol station was out of diesel.

The scrounger score some diesel, but not enough.

The PAT’s scrounging skills worked, though, and the local fuel supplier sent four 200l drums to the camp at midnight. Each car got a ration of 65 litres, which was not a lot; nevertheless, the participants headed into the desert anyway, to explore an extinct volcano.
The difficult terrain resulted in higher fuel consumption than expected, and most vehicles were running on fumes by the time the convoy pitched camp as night fell, still 200km from the nearest source of diesel.
Expedition leader Halim Rahman then decided to collect every jerry can and fuel container available, pool every last drop of precious diesel to fill up a couple of cars and send them to Waw el Kabir to buy more diesel. It was a six-hour round trip.

While the quest for fuel continues, some
 people find time to practise their golf swing.

Meanwhile, the guys (and three women) took advantage of the rare leisure time to catch up on vehicle maintenance chores, such as cleaning the air filters. Expedition sergeant major Asst Supt Mohd Shahidan Mohd Mahmud, who had brought along 100 golf balls, finally got the chance to polish his chipping and sand trap skills, while the others played rugby and football.
The fuel eventually arrived and the convoy moved out just after 4pm, way after the usual 6.30 or 7.30am starts. The wait proved to be a good opportunity to experience the Sahara during the day. Temperatures there can soar to over 40°C, but, surprisingly, it was pleasant in the shade, especially when the wind blew, which seemed to be most of the time.
Several days earlier, the convoy had crossed from Egypt into Libya near the town of Salum and made smooth progress on sealed roads to the port city of Tobruk. This city was the scene of two major World War II battles – that between the German-Italian forces led by Field Marshal Erwin Rommel, a.k.a. the Desert Fox, and the British and Commonwealth troops who distinguished themselves as the Desert Rats. Unfortunately, there isn’t much left for history buffs to see today, except for a small French military cemetery.

All hands on deck to help with refuelling.

Along the way, the convoy rolled through El Alamein (now called Al Alamayn by the Libyans), site of the British victory that proved to be the turning point for the Allies.
My first impression of Libya was that of overwhelming filth: there was garbage strewn as far as the eye could see. Plastic bags, in particular, looked like crops growing on the ground; many hung from the numerous barbed wire fences.
Libya could just as easily be dubbed the “Land of Green Doors”, since nearly every squarish house is either sand coloured or unpainted concrete, and has green doors. Apparently, the colour is popular because the Libyan flag is a plain green rectangle, and it seems to be effective in scaring away flies!
En route to Tobruk, the long line of uniformly-coloured PAT cars drew admiring stares from everyone, including the unfortunate drivers of two cars which collided with a mighty bang when the man in front slowed down to gawk, and the driver behind him, who did the same, did not slow down. Assistance was rendered immediately by Khairuddin Mohd Ali, the expedition doctor,who examined the injured drivers.

No fuel, never mind, we have authentic
Italian pasta cooked by authentic
Italian chef Alessandro Arada

The Sahara reputedly springs surprises on the unwary: well, there was heavy rain and floods in parts of the deep desert that the expedition was supposed to visit, thus forcing a change of route. It hardly ever rains, but when it does, the water does not seep into the ground. Instead, it is channelled into narrow riverbeds that are normally dry.

Is that a Petronas station ... nah, just a mirage.

“After lunch, the local guides will lead us through the minefields,” expedition leader Halim Abdul Rahman announced over the radio during a refuelling break just before the convoy was due to enter the real Sahara desert.
That certainly got the adrenalin pumping, but as it turned out, we did not have to drive through any minefield. However, the convoy did go near many thick barbed wire entanglements that marked out areas where there might still be mines left over from WWII and the subsequent border conflict between Libya and Egypt.
The Sahara proper is a fascinating landscape, vast and varied in textures and hues. It is not all just sand dunes, although there are many of these. There are also large areas of hard-packed sandy and rocky ground, strewn with stones which vary in size from pebbles to huge boulders. Colours range from white to beige to dark brown and black.

The expedition vehicles travelled over soft sand dunes that resembled the huge waves of a storm at sea, as well as perfectly smooth flat sand that afforded We drove through powdery dust (like talcum powder) that severely taxed the engines and cooling systems.
The Sahara is beautiful in a stark, wild kind of way. It is enchanting and entrancing, yet totally unforgiving because a traveller can go hundreds of kilometres without seeing a blade of grass, or so much as a beetle. There’s no life there, except that which passes through on the backs of camels, or in 4WD vehicles, like us.

More photos here

An extinct volcano in the middle of the Libyan Sahara (at 24°55'9.67"N 17°44'45.88"E).

Gearing up for the trek

Another old tale in the Blast From The Past series, leading up to the longest and most demanding overland trip that I've ever had the privilege to be a part of - the Petronas Adventure Team's Trans Sahara 2004. This article was published in The Star in the run-up to the event proper.

THE average family car travels 15,000 to 20,000km in a year. The typical Petronas Adventure Team (PAT) expedition covers about the same distance in around six weeks. While the difference may not seem too dramatic to some, consider that your car rolls over smooth bitumen all the time whereas the PAT like to venture off the beaten path.
In addition to the difficult and often unpredictable terrain, the adventure-seekers can expect no outside help if anything goes wrong, or when equipment breaks down. There are no spare parts shops at hand where they go to play, no AAM to call for assistance, no petrol stations, no 7-Eleven stores, nothing. Out there, nothing is certain, other than Murphy’s Law, which pessimistically prophesises that “if anything can go wrong, it will”.
Reliability is the most important factor when choosing equipment for overland treks to places far, far away from civilisation, and the adventure begins with the choice of vehicle. It has to be reliable; it has to be rugged, and spacious enough to carry up to three occupants and their essential gear in reasonable comfort for many days at a stretch.
Four-wheel-drive (4WD) is a must, given that the trail will surely serve up challenging obstacles such as soft sand or gooey mud or steep inclines. The ability to spread the engine’s power among all four wheels instead of just two means that each wheel on a 4WD vehicle is less likely to lose traction and spin, and thus, is more capable of making it through difficult terrain than a conventional 2WD vehicle.
The most popular choice among PAT members is Toyota’s big Land Cruiser, favoured because of its legendary reputation for ruggedness and reliability and its capacious cabin, which can hold all the stuff – camping and cooking gear, clothing, spare parts and tools of all shapes and sizes, plenty of food and water – needed to survive several weeks in the wilderness. It also has a big, stout six-cylinder diesel engine displacing over four litres to lug all that weight around.
When there is a sufficient “critical mass” of Land Cruisers, it becomes logical for newcomers to choose the same make and model to simplify maintenance and repairs in the field. The mechanics on the expeditions become familiar with the Toyotas and have an inventory of spare parts for a single type of vehicle.

Such is the reputation of the PAT trips as an excellent test of vehicle reliability that Ford Malaysia promptly agreed when invited to be a sponsor. It will be sending two Everest SUVs and a Ranger 4X4 pick-up, along with adequate spare parts, as official vehicles for the Petronas Trans Sahara 2004 expedition.
“This is a tremendous challenge that will test man and machine to the limit, and we are absolutely thrilled to send our 4x4 vehicles along to help ensure the event is successful,” said Ford Malaysia managing director Mike Pease.
History buffs will be thrilled to learn that Ford 4X4 light trucks, such as the F30, have performed with distinction in the Sahara as far back as 1941. They were the mounts of the British 8th Army’s Long Range Desert Group, better known by their acronym LRDG, during their daring behind-enemy-lines raids that were such a thorn in the side for Germany’s Desert Fox, General Erwin Rommel.
Ford’s modern 2.5l turbodiesel 4WD vehicles have proven their worth in everyday use in Malaysia, but the Trans Sahara will be a different ball game altogether because no vehicle in standard form is capable of surviving what the PAT has in mind, not even the Land Cruiser.
“There are a number of modifications that are compulsory for all vehicles,” says PAT’s technical co-ordinator Stiven Sim, who has over a dozen years' experience in the 4X4 equipment business.
Taking on the vast expanse of the unforgiving Sahara is an endeavour not to be taken lightly (no pun intended). All the necessary equipment add up to nearly two tonnes, Sim says, so the vehicle’s suspension must be upgraded to cope with the extra weight as well as to give better ground clearance and wheel travel.
From past experience, he says, the constant pounding over hours on end would cause standard shock absorbers to overheat and fail within a couple of hours.
It's going to be very hot where they're going so the vehicle cooling system must be upgraded.
Every vehicle has to be fitted with an auxiliary fuel tank to boost capacity from the standard 70-80 litres up to around 150 litres of diesel because of the great distances between fuel stops. It also needs to have two extra jerry cans for another 40 litres of fuel; one jerry can for water; heavy duty bumpers front and rear as well as side steps; shovels, high-lift jacks, and a robust roof rack to hold the assorted gear.
Even 4WD vehicles can get bogged down. If they don’t get stuck at all, the adventurers will probably complain (at least during the early days, when everyone is fresh and energetic) that the track is too easy. So, each vehicle has to carry a comprehensive array of equipment and tools to get stuck vehicles mobile again.
A useful bit of kit on any off-road vehicle is the electrically powered winch, usually bolted solidly to the front bumper. Since a winch draws large amounts of current from the vehicle’s 12V battery, prudent off-roaders often install a second battery, just in case.
“To do up a vehicle up to the minimum specifications for an expedition can cost RM25,000 to RM30,000,” Sim reckons, “but there are people who have spent more than RM50,000 ... they have fridges, TV screens and DVD players built in.”
There are a couple of dedicated service vehicles crewed by experienced mechanics and stocked with tools and spare parts. But each vehicle also has to carry its own spares, including fuel, oil and air filters, inner tubes, hoses, shock absorbers, fan and timing belts, bulbs, clamps, fuses, prop shaft ... and the list goes on.
There are also items deemed essential for personal survival, as well as navigation and communication equipment. These include GPS (Global Positioning System) units, two-way radios, goggles and headscarf (for protection in the event of sandstorms), first aid kit, torch and whistle. For the Sahara trip, the expedition doctor has advised every participant to drink at least five litres of water a day to ward off dehydration. So each vehicle has to carry 60 to 100 litres of potable water, sufficient for three people for up to seven days.
If the average family car is akin to a jogger who runs two kilometres a day for three weeks, a PAT vehicle is the Olympic marathoner who covers the same distance – 42km – in just two-and-a-half hours. That’s the difference.

My wife’s 10th birthday

Another blast from the past, this one from 2004. Also, another example of the fun things you can do with a 4X4 (or several) and the band of brothers in mud that are usually associated with such vehicles.

A romantic dinner by candlelight in a five-star hotel, surrounded by dear friends, feted to a fine meal and even finer wine, serenaded with soft music – sounds like the makings of a perfect birthday party.
It’s easy enough to organise one of these – round up a few pals, head off to a fancy hotel, order the best food and drinks in the house, and then settle the bill at the end of the night.
However, this just did not seem good enough for a birthday that comes once in four years.
Last Sunday was Feb 29, my wife’s 10th birthday (so to speak!), and also exactly one month after our 10th wedding anniversary. Clearly, the occasion called for something special. But what?
I pondered on a “variation’’ of the above scenario – a romantic candlelight dinner, surrounded by dear friends, feted to a fine meal and even finer wines, serenaded with soft music... but all under a million stars amid the ageless rainforest, tens of kilometres away from civilisation.
A few days earlier, my regular gang of 4X4 buddies had proposed an off-road trip over the weekend to Sungkai, Perak. They were unaware of the “big event’’ looming before me. Ordinarily, I would not have had second thoughts about going along but this time, it was obviously out of the question. Try telling your beloved that you and she are going to spend her rare and precious birthday in the jungle, bathing in a freezing mountain stream and sleeping in a tent and … forget it!
Well, Rena is a rare and precious sweetheart indeed and when I suggested we head for the hills in our truck on her big day, she agreed!

There was actually a bit more to it than that: I sold her on a candlelight dinner, with a proper table and chairs, white tablecloth, crystal wine glasses, silver cutlery and all. Plus there would be a proper waiter in formal attire and a chef to cater to her every whim, all in a tropical jungle setting.
The inspiration came from countless movies I had watched as a child, when the most adventurous thing to do was to go on safari in Africa, like the great white hunters in King Solomon’s Mine and the countless Tarzan films I adored. The heroes and heroines would trek at the head of a long line of porters all day and then sit down to a proper dinner, complete with white linen, silver knives and forks, waited on hand and foot by their attentive native servants, amid the sounds, sights and smells of the wilderness.
The idea is quite politically incorrect today, I’m sure. But, I often wondered, wouldn’t it be fun if my pals could be persuaded to play waiters and chefs for a day?
Unfortunately, I could not even make the pitch to them in person because another pressing engagement (involving work and, more importantly, beer) came up at the time set for discussing the logistics of the expedition, which was going to proceed with or without me. But it was organised anyhow: ‘You’ve got your party’ read the short message service (SMS) on my mobile phone go and the mission was on!
After an inauspicious start on Saturday morning when I missed an interchange that I had used dozens of times before and ended up having to battle traffic just to get onto the expressway, we were on our way. An hour and a half of highway motoring brought us to Sungkai, a sleepy town off the North-South Expressway, around 110km north-west of Kuala Lumpur. Here, the convoy of six 4X4 pick-up trucks turned east and headed for adventure.
Unfortunately, one of our regulars, Gerard Richard of Cameron Highlands, could not make it because of a last-minute family emergency. We would miss his company, and the truckload of flowers he was tasked with bringing along from the highlands.
We bounced along dusty and deeply rutted tracks, at first passing through rubber estates and oil palm plantations and several orang asli settlements, then along muddy logging trails winding alongside a spectacular rock-strewn stream with breathtaking rapids.
Then, the lady of the day and her 10 male companions arrived at the chosen spot. According to the constellation of Global Positioning System, also known as GPS, we were at latitude north 4° 07’ 37.3” longitude, east 101° 27’ 22.2” at an altitude of 965m. The nearest town was Bidor, 18.9km away as the crow flew, on a bearing of true 264°.
As the growl of diesel engines died away, to be replaced by the sound of rushing water, nine men began the familiar routine of setting up camp.

Rena, Queen of the Jungle, did not have to lift a finger. Being the birthday girl has its privileges. I, as the lucky consort, enjoyed the benefits as well, along with a few nicely chilled Tigers while the “natives” sweated with the tents and cooking arrangements.
The view from our campsite was magnificent. In the middle of a valley winding up into the hills on either side, a crystal-clear stream tripped and fell over boulders polished smooth by centuries of fast moving water. All around us, ancient trees reached up tall and straight to the sky, forming walls of green that would put even the grandest hotel ballroom to shame. Above, the sky was clear and blue, promising us all a perfect evening under the twinkling stars.
Chef Richard Ho, whose day job is fleet sales manager at Ford Malaysia, wasted no time getting stuck into his favourite hobby of setting fire to charcoal.
Out came the lamb cutlets, and the steaks and chicken chops, sourced from a supplier known as “Lambchop Lai”. The meat had been well marinated since the day before, but no one could think of any good reason why a stiff shot of Johnnie Walker Swing should not be added to the gravy. Things were looking merry already.
Ho , who confessed to being unable to cook anything fancier than boiled eggs and instant noodles, proceeded to serve up one of the finest barbecue meals we’ve ever had, and we’ve had quite a few. By then, there was a banquet table laid out with white tablecloth, scented candles and the requisite silverware and crystal wine goblets and champagne flutes. Colourful examples of the local flora, including what looked suspiciously like grass seeds, filled the now-empty Swing bottle pressed into service as a vase.

The guest of honour took her place, clad in an elegant ankle-length evening dress of powder blue chiffon. I wore an appropriate Safari shirt while the rest of the crew wore shorts and T-shirts.
Maitre d’ Lionel Yew, looking suitably spiffy in his dinner jacket over an Adidas jersey and shorts, towel draped correctly over one arm, served up the stream-chilled wine, a bottle of Italian Nipozzano. By day, he moonlights as marketing manager for Adidas Malaysia, which explained the jersey and shorts.
The chef’s assistant and father, Geoffrey Ho, slaved over a hot stove and wok, serving up course after course of delicious dishes, including stirred fried cabbage and fresh petai with dried prawns. He finally stopped at five courses, but most of the diners were well and truly satiated by the third course.
More fine wine and liquor were served , including a bottle of Otard Jade fine cognac, a brand new bottle of Swing, and a giant magnum of South African bubbly labelled J.C. Leroux, which was perfect for the birthday toast, along with a bottle of sparkling Martini Asti.
Great food, fine wine and liquor, wonderful companionship in harmonious surroundings with Mother Nature graciously providing perfect weather (the temperature was an ideal 20ºC) and not a single mosquito in attendance – could it get any better?
We started counting the stars, and somebody got to 81 before complaints of stiff necks prompted us to adopt that as the official figure. No one thought we were being too generous when we judged our al fresco dining establishment deserving of 81 stars, plus a quarter moon.
There were some of the traditional trappings of a birthday celebration – the surprise appearance of a candle-topped cake, presents and the hearty toasts.
“I’m flattered, touched, lost for words. Don’t know what to say except to thank you all for this most wonderful birthday treat. I’ll treasure this memory for the next four years,’’ said Rena.
We talked, as good friends do, about everything under the sun. The subject of “ten” came up – Rena’s 10th birthday, our 10th anniversary, a party in the company of 10 men. Just then, Beethoven’s Fifth Symphony played on my truck’s stereo, and it sure sounded like “Ten, ten, ten, TEN!”
And so we partied on, well into the wee hours of the morning before retiring to the luxury of air mattresses in nylon tents, satisfied that this was one birthday party that was different from the norm.
Now, all I have to think about is Feb 29, 2008.

* Footnote: Feb 29, 2008, has come and gone. We went to Italy, she had her pilgrimage to St Peter's while I had mine to St Agata Bolognese. That's another story.

It's a four-wheel-drive, too!

Rena's 11th birthday present.