The Man Who Rode Around Borneo - 6 Butt Breaking Sun Baking Ride

What a bummer we didn’t make it through into Sarawak last night or we could have ridden with Simon and his team today. But that is ok as I am didn’t come here for that. I got up early to a very beautiful view of the river in front of the Kuala Belait Boat Club (KBBC)and with decent breakfast ready on the table next to me, the morning looking great. Helen, a Filipino and who was in charge taking care of us in the KBBC executed it to a ‘T’.  I figured she woke up really early to prepare all that. Last night we were served light snacks before we go to sleep and waking up to this was just superb. I have no problem whatsoever sleeping, though it was a little uncomfortable being on the members’ lounge couch but I am grateful to the people at KBBC for letting us stayed the night. It was really a beautiful experience to begin with, day 5 of my 60 days cycling around Borneo. While Heather went downstairs to clean up, I packed my stuffs and get some of my gears reorganized to make packing and unpacking a little more efficient. As our days goes by, getting everything sorted is now getting better and faster. I just know where goes to which bag. I hope to be able to do all this blindfolded by next week, or at least in the dark. I will remember to update later on how that went.

I took a walk downstairs near the water to enjoy a quiet moment before the day’s ride. Strangely, a simple signboard reminded me how dangerous it was to be in any rivers in Borneo! The sign read: ‘Beware! Crocodiles Have Been Sighted. Please Be Careful’. I would like to believe this was one sign that reminded me to be more careful throughout my stay in Borneo, be it near the river or on the road. And with my tendency to jump into rivers to cool down, I had better remember this sign. Before we rode off, I wrote a note to the club manager to thank him and his team and offered Helen some money but was told we need it more than her before she wave us goodbyes. We rode off sometime around half past six from the club to avoid the morning’s heat, which the temperature was hovering around 27C sometime in that hours and cool enough for us to move before the heat going to slow us down.

We have about 22km from KBBC to the Bruneian side Immigration and Checkpoint. It was a straight forward ride averaging 20km hour all the way to the Border crossing. We were there at the Brunei side crossing within an hour with no problems whatsoever. We got the clearance to cross the border and that was it. Not more than ten minutes, we were on a bridge just after the Brunei border on ‘no-man-lands’ when Heather screaming, “Ra, look! Look! There is a crocodile!” My immediate reaction was to stop and whipped my camera out, took two pictures of the crocodile, I wasn’t prepared and the result was bad.  After that little drama, we went on pedaling towards Sarawak border crossing. We have 16km to go with nothing on our left and right. We kept cranking and approaching the Sarawak immigration, I saw soldiers (Border control) standing guard with weapons at ready. The immigration and checkpoint on Sarawak side looks like it need a little bit of paintwork and upgrading. The roads need a little sprucing up (read: resurfacing work), but other than that, the border crossing was straight forward no drama. We made it quickly to Sarawak side. A few of the officers there shook hands with me while I was waiting for Heather. This is how countries should treat visitors to encourage tourism.  Sometimes it feels as if certain countries are trying to actively discourage tourists from visiting their country, especially those of us traveling by bike! Well that will be another story to tell.

After clearing Sarawak immigrations, we have 36km more to Miri town and from what I read and the information I got from Simon (who is ahead of us by a day) was that, there will be absolutely nothing along the way. True enough, it was nothing but with one consolation view to break the monotonous. From the main bridge after Sarawak Immigration Checkpoint, I saw Miri with it towering industrial chimneys and it seems so very far away, beautiful view from where I was looking at it before going back pedalling and would be seeing nothing but miles of Oil Palms Plantation (OPP). I kept going, pedal by pedal on the baking road towards Miri. Slowly my speed dropped from 28km hour to 25km hour and until there wasn’t any more mojo left in me, it dropped further to 20km hour until I gave up pedalling and decided to take a five minutes break while Heather went in to the bushes to answer nature call. We had just covered 16km from Sarawak border control and it felt like 30km of pedalling. The good thing was we were on a flat (but dusty road) and there weren’t many vehicles en-route. I guess that is why I was told not to cross the border late in the day, I can see why now and I also noticed there were quite a few suspicious characters going in and out of the bushes, perhaps in there was a plot of illegal plantation? I can’t be sure.  Maybe I am wrong about them, they could the nicest people, I will never know.  By now, thirty minutes past ten o’clock my water was running low (that includes the reserved) and we were on the coastal road going in to the small town of Tutong. Panic set in as I don’t see any small stall along the way. Unlike the Peninsula of Malaysia, here in Borneo, the small usual warung and villages were spread far out over 20 to 40km. Where we were now, there was absolutely nothing.

We kept pedalling and about 8km outside Tutong town; we saw two Water melon stalls. I hate it when this happens. Why two? Now after cycling and cursing, we need to make a decision to choose which water melon stall to stop at and thinking would the other one be better? Bollocks, I chose the first water melon shop and signalled Heather to stop. Without hesitation, I picked up one huge water melon and hand it over to the girl waiting for her to cut it into pieces. We finished the whole water melon in less than 10 minutes, paid the RM6 and I was a happy man. Heather gave half bottles of water over to me and we rode off. We have about 14km to Miri city centre from here. We took a slow ride into Tutong and stop at shell station to replenish our low water supplies and a quick run to the washroom. A lady who saw us at the junction came to say hi and told us she had read about us on the newspaper. Cool right? People are so friendly here. Do you also know in order to see the progress (economically) of a country you are in, you just need to go into their supplies store in the station (you can also check out their public toilets). Miri will be just fine.

I called up Uncle Ambrose from the Station while Heather was having a chat with our new lady friend. I had promised to see Uncle Ambrose when we reached Miri. It wasn't a straight forward ride to Uncle Ambrose place though. We had stopped along the way to ask for direction and finally a cashier at one gas station nailed it for us. On our way to Uncle Ambrose, Heather rode up to some hills to see the Grand Old Lady while I took another break down at the foot of the hill.

There was something about Miri that I just can’t figure it out until now. While cycling into the city, I didn’t feel I was in Malaysia; it was like I was somewhere else, like Miri is one independent city. Everything was so neat, people were polite and motorists weren’t rushing anywhere. Yes it is green too and what surprised me was the street; it was clean from rubbish. The irony was this, at the foot of the hills waiting for Heather to ride back down, a lorry filled with rubbish turned into the track where I was standing and dump everything here just off the track. I am sure this not a legal dumping ground. To me, it is like sweeping the dirt under the carpet. Still, I would encourage friends to visit Miri. To me a perfect place to get away from the hustle and bustle of city life. I am definitely going back to hang out with Uncle Ambrose more.

We arrived at Uncle Ambrose place just past one in the afternoon feeling hot, hungry and dirty. Though it was just a short 70km ride, I felt it like was 100! We hang around for a while to chat with Uncle Ambrose before we go clean up, do our laundry and after a short recovery from the heat, we drove into the town, yes using Uncle Ambrose car to get lunch and did our errands. On our way back, Heather was on the wheels reminiscing her days in California driving to work in the morning with a cup of black hot coffee. We felt relax today and after a short drives around, we pick up some groceries for Uncle Ambrose before heading back to rest. It was a good reprieved from the heat and tomorrow we will be back on the grind again pedalling the whole day in the heat. I have no complaints whatsoever. In fact I am feeling good and ready for it, I thought.

We ended day 5 with a simple dinner at one local place with Uncle Ambrose and went around town for an hour hang out at the bar with the two of us treating Uncle Ambrose. We were in bed as soon as we got back. Everything that has happened today was perfect. Short ride, long rest and I hope it would be like this for the rest of our rides.
After yesterday rest and recovery at Uncle Ambrose’s and a short night out, I woke up to the sound of birds singing behind Uncle Ambrose fruits plantation and feeling recharged. I remembered walking around in there with Uncle Ambrose showing me all his fruits trees. I love this place. I jumped up from my mattress and straight to the light switch. Time, thirty minutes past five.

 Heather was already up when I came back from my morning clean up routine and by six, she was making breakfast and I was boiling hot water for our coffee. We were gelling well. Uncle Ambrose was with us during breakfast and honestly, it was really difficult for me to leave his place. Heather and I had our breakfast and say our goodbyes to Uncle Ambrose. By half past six, we were all set and pedal our way out of his main gate. We crank it easy out towards the main road and slowly out of Miri westward towards Bintulu next to a beautiful coastal road. Our next destination would be Niah National Park. We had established that we will set our day’s final destination but if the going gets tough, we will not fight it and look for alternative for the night. Niah National Park on paper it is about 80km away and if we factor in those slopes, the weather (Scorching heat), rest stops and traffics, we can get there within 6 hours,  no make it 8.

I was feeling good and the weather was beautifully cooling. We rode the first 10km on relentless sloppy roads with random stops for photos and on the 20km mark with more roller coaster slopes – Batam to Barelang challenge came to mind only different was this might take forever. I was still feeling good and expecting to see one or two stall for our coffee break.  Nothing, I thought I can do another 10km and like a lesson from past few days, there were nothing. 30km mark and there’s still nothing on the side of the road for us to stop for refreshment. Heather suggested that we stop for a break and for me to stretch my muscle. Good idea. I remembered we stop on top of a small knoll and I can see far up the rolling hills ahead of us.

In my mind I was thinking, “Even with this good weather, if we don’t find makan (food) stop soon, I will be screwed”. I know from the information gotten from Simon last night Bekenu is about 50km away from where we started this morning. Without enough water and with those rolling hills, 20km is like so far away! Ten minutes into our rest, topping up from our reserved and we set off again. We had no idea how far more until we find any place for us to rest, have coffee and relax our muscle other than Bekenu about 20km away from where were last stop. There wasn’t any marker along the road to indicate how far were we from the next town, no sign to tell us where we were but the kampong houses dotted along the way. So roughly by looking at the maps I brought along and the distance I clocked, I estimated our distances from our main rest point. I was pretty accurate on that. 41km after cranking from Uncle Ambrose, we were on Kampung Angus and I spotted a decent stall on our right. I did a quick turn to Heather and she just smiled and nodded. Our first break stops for the morning. Phew. We ordered our drinks, Heather ordered ‘kopi kurang manis’ (Coffee with less sugar) and I ordered a much needed 100plus to come along with  ‘nasi goreng kampung’(village fried rice usually comes with fried chicken) and while waiting for that to arrived, did some communication check with David in Kuala Lumpur. Time check thirty minutes past nine and we are ready to hit the road.

We past Bekenu very quickly and time was ten in the morning. Surprisingly it wasn’t as hot and due to that, we were ahead of time and Niah National Park look promising and we both aimed to be at Batu Niah National Park at noon for lunch. Oh boy how over-zealous was that. The heat got us and slowed us down to a crawl.

Back in January 2013, when I was riding with Abang Dzul and Ken doing a short Kelantan to Kuantan ride for a test run to prepare for RAB, I remembered we can stop every five kilometres of so if we need to eat, drink or just for a decent shade. On day 6 of Ride Around Borneo, I have learned that if we ever see a drink stall or even a beautiful tree providing a big enough shade for the two of us, I’d go for it as we may not be able to see those again the next  10, 20 or even 30km of butt breaking sun baking ride. I pushing really hard forward from our last breakfast stop, I saw a long stretch of stall on the right at 50km mark. We took it and quickly bought and replenished our water supplies. Heather bought some native wild vegetables and the next thing I saw she was feeding a captured baby monkey. We took an hour break here and also to cools down from the heat. It was baking! Both of us slap more sunscreen before making our moves to our pre-arranged lunch break stop.

Battling the 10 kilometres endless slopes in the scorching heat needs more than my physical strength. If mentally I weren’t up there, I'll be gone and back in the shade within minutes. I wasn’t prepared for this heat, the sun was like sitting right on top of my head. I rode under the sun before but this was something else. I can smell the heat and if I ever drop an egg on the floor, it might fry in that instance. I was already swearing and Heather was right behind me, the heat was just too much and this was only around eleven in the morning. I kept telling myself I can handle this and I am trained for it. It’s all mental now. We go on and on until we reach the 60km mark and by now the road flatten. This is where I relax a little bit, let my mental take a break. Looking around my surrounding for shade, I saw a lady peeking out of the window from her timber house. I slowed down a little, turns behind to Heather and went, “I am going to take that shade..”
“Ok, take it”. Heather replied.

Oh boy, how lucky we were.  The lady from the window greeted us and I seek her permission to take shelter. She smiled, said yes and went somewhere and moments later show up downstairs where we were standing with a cold bottle of water. We shook hand and thank her repeatedly. She disappeared again and this is when we saw a white 4x4 truck slowing down and make a slow turn to where we were. Mr Koh, the driver of that truck got out and wave us hello.  Originally from Serian, Mr Koh had told us about reading an article about us on the Sarawak Borneo Post. We shook hand and obliged to Mr Koh request for some photos. The homeowner (lady by the window) showed up later with a bunch of bananas and introduced us to her dad. She went away again while we chatted with her dad and Mr Koh. After a little while, the lady showed up with a cold papaya! I shamelessly accepted it, wrapped it with newspaper and packed it in my rack bag.

Heather called me to come nearer closed enough for her to whisper in my ear, “We should give her one of our chempedak (jackfruits sort of fruits)”
“Sure, let me go get it”. I am happy to let go anything that can lighten our loads.

I know, you think I am joking. We don’t only carry repair kits, spare clothing, and spare tubes. With us right now we have Chempedak, not one but 2! I happily agreed and brought one chempedak out and hand it over to our impromptu host. You should see her surprised to see where the chempedak coming  out from. She must have thought that I nicked it in the village back where we came from. Now we have one papaya and one chempedak in our "emergency food ration".

We rested and chatted a little bit more with our new friends for before we say our thanks and suited up to move on. We were told the Batu Niah town is just about 20km away, “after the bridge”. I have been hearing that from 40km back. Boy, it was still hot out there. I dragged myself out and suck it up and pushed on. After much endurance and few more slopes, we saw the bridge with the sign, Batu Niah town 1km!

“Yeah!”, I punched the air like I just beaten Lance Amstrong. I am serious.

We saw one rest stop at a junction and opted to stop for coconut drink, minus proper lunch as we are just too tired (I guess) to even eat. Looking out from where we were sitting I can see tarmac were heating up and I can feel the burning sensation in my face and we were am sitting in the shade. We can either seat longer and rest or hit the road. Decision, decision and decision. We chose the former got the laptop out and start keying in our notes.

An hour just zoomed past us and the thought to sit longer in the shade was so tempting but common sense tell us to go on to arrive at our final destination earlier so as to get more rest and Heather get to trek to the Niah Cave. So back on the road in the scorching heat. Before we rode off, I asked for direction into Niah for confirmation. We don’t want to cycle in the heat and realised later we are on the wrong direction! Even the last 14km was a torture for me and made worst by the thought that we will be back here again tomorrow riding out from the park. “It’s all mental now, Ra” I kept reminding myself. I crank slowly tackling and counting slopes one by one. We arrived at our destination finally and high-five was exchanged. We sorted the permits quickly and Heather changed to her trekking gears to see Niah Cave. My mind say yes and my body says no, So I stayed behind to look after our gears and I am so glad I stayed.


Heather took off after a few slices of papaya and I go find somewhere nice to park the bicycles and found a place to chill, in the park office. I was invited in after  I passed them few cuts of papaya and told them I am Simon Sandi good friend (Simon works in the forestry department base in Kuching). After getting to cool myself down in the office, I find somewhere quiet, where I can bring out my laptop and take down notes. While doing that, some parts of me went back to one trekking slash climbing trip up to Mount Ophir. Dana, one of the trekker and also a friend from that trip has the story below.

By Dana McDaniel

The fun facts...
Mt. Ophir, Malaysia
Gunung Ledang Trail (6km)
16th highest, 6th most difficult mountain in Malaysia

The rundown...
Leadership. Teamwork. A sense of adventure. (Because it is daunting) A positive attitude. (Cause things don’t always go your way) A good sense of humor. (Because there will be many good/bad/tasteless jokes made) A great body (because you will be rated). All the essential elements of what became, for 11 feisty ultimate players, the MT OPHIR ADVENTURE!

The Takeoff
Newton Car park, 5:45 AM. Showing the potential of this ardent team, we all amazingly made it on time, ready and raring’ to go. An eclectic mix, we had a couple Aussies, Canadians, Frenchmen, Singaporeans, and one lone Scot and American. 9 in the van, Darren and Liz choosing to take their car, much more conducive to snuggle sessions. Nigel, the genius, found quickly that the seats reclined (now WHY did I not figure this out on our way to Dayang last year, dammit!) Our preliminary “get to know ya” conversations quieted as we sank into restless slumber, excited for the days’ excitement yet to come.

The Initial Ascent
after arriving at the mountain base we mentally readied ourselves for the challenge ahead. The group was dressed in light pants, bandanas, sturdy shoes, and packs with gear for the climb and camping out (so not exactly light as a feather). Ra was dressed in full fatigued army gear (with the waist belt and sheaved knife and everything), intimidating all around him. The span of the mountain, bottom to top, and the trail is divided into 8 checkpoints, an expected 5-6 hour climb. The initial minutes, we felt very much in the public eye as we rose up stone stairs, passing pools of water swarming with local Malays, bathing in the sun and staring at the foreigners. Tough, repetitive, unforgiving (the stairs and the stares). The first couple checkpoints were a bit difficult, as we would often lead our troops into an incorrect path in the maze of potential trails. (Rest assured, I would doubt if any of us escaped this portion without a small pop-up vision in their head of being stranded for days, foraging the land for food, unshaven, growing delirious, while rescue teams searched the landscape… but I digress) Upon any fork in the trail, Ra decisively pulled us back, sent Regis to scout ahead, consulted the official map holder (me- who ironically has the worst sense of direction), and determined the right path. Soon we started to notice plastic red and white ribbons wrapped around sporadic trees and roots, like a trail of breadcrumbs leading us up to the top.

Hitting the checkpoints was always a cause for celebration, mostly in the form of an expelled sigh of relief, a swig of water, and a brief rest anywhere remotely horizontal. We stumbled upon absolutely breathtaking waterfalls, streaming and billowing down and over rocks. At yet another watering hole there was a combination of liquid fun, with some of the water pounding against the rocks, some gushing through rivets, some merely trickling past in a stream, summing up to create a loud roaring sound rivaled only by the incessant whirring of the crickets (whose song reminded me of a power drill that would just NEVER get turned off).

The path became more and more rugged as the ascent continued, turning from slowly leveling stairs to flat elevating rock surfaces to jagged and jutting roots and branches that we had to heave ourselves up and over. Constantly rising up with varying degrees of steepness, just to keep it interesting. We know we were in for it when Ra got his walking stick- he meant BUSINESS man!

Halfway there
the particular point where we stopped for lunch was more of a gorge, a horizontal outlay or rocks with water gushing through and a serene view as you peered further down the stream or more rock formations and trees winding into each other.

In celebration of our riveting surroundings, we gorged ourselves, a reward for all the hard work thus far, as much as physically fueling for the remainder of the day. Conversation ranged from TV shows to Ultimate league team standings (during which I bravely defended Ciao Kitty’s honor) to anything and everything we could think of to ignore the slowly building soreness in our quivering legs. Basking in the sun felt wonderful, as did cooling our weary feet in the icy water. A couple throws of the disc (Frisbee) led to a few splashes in the stream, and even a Frenchman bared down to his underwear (who shall remain nameless… let’s just say he was a “briefs not boxers” type). The menu varied, ranging from hot chili tuna to sandwiches to chips to snickers and mars bars to fruit to a hot dog/potato/vegetable mix pre-made by Vivid (yum!). All shared, all enjoyed in the none-too-gourmet but immensely satisfying eats. (Darren, true gourmet chef, seemed to be testing the waters before proving his worth…)

The Tough Part
Soon realization hit that there would be no room for the “post-lunch coma” that us professional typically experience as our afternoon routines. We had work to do. Regis again acted as Head Scout, with Ra chirping at him to bound ahead, timing 3 minutes, and assigning demerits for tardiness. Well done. Lisa and her Frenchmen, Marco and Bruno, sturdily kept pressing forward, a true demonstration of “Attitude is everything.” Oh mais oui. Viv braved her fear of heights many a time with resounding strength. Liz, Abbie, and myself passed some time with high-level discussions of careers and life goals (okay, and boys and dating too)

At certain points my legs were shaking whenever they were still for more than a few seconds. THIS was a TOUGH ASS CLIMB! Much tougher than expected. The pre-hike encouragements of “Oh, it’s just like walking through Bukit Timah!” were ringing in our ears in echoing annoyance. It was just TOO vertical, for TOO long, TOO many damn times. Assuredly none of us will forget pulling our fatigued bodies and muddied packs up the steep sheer face of an enormous rock formation on a muddy knotted rope. Let me tell you- this rock was STRAIGHT up (meaning straight up into the air, not as in “It was straight up WHACK, yo!”) Which was particularly excruciating, as we had pounded our lower bodies for hours on end… now in pulling ourselves to rappel up, we were going to task the one remaining part of our body that wasn’t sore? Talk about a cruel joke. (But hey, must admit that some of those biceps looked pretty sweet climbing up)

As unforgiving as this time was, there were redeeming features making it all worthwhile. The expansive view out across the rolling green fields in the distance (when ever do you see this much space in a city?) As we rose higher and higher, the sky became more eerily misty- bringing us to the realization that we were truly in the clouds! And we eventually did make it, to the elusive checkpoint 7, our home for the night. Our muscles collectively screamed in relief, one of the most welcome sights our eyes had seen.

Chow time, the Flow of Wine, and Campfire Contests
Packs were thrown down in a heap of exhaustion, camp was set, and relaxation set in. Collections of logs, twigs, branches and sticks began which was difficult due to the lack of just about anything dry. Ra’s sugary hot instant coffee was like a sweet dream slipping down our throats. Munching snacks and pitching tents eased us into talks of who will run women’s league (with Darren being the lead contender), Ra singing “Oooooh, Daaaanaaaa” in a true Richie Valens style accapella, a group consideration of why one doesn’t pee when one sweats excessively, and whether or not we could play a campfire version of “Hot or Not?” Darren impressed us thoroughly with his fried rice creation… aptly commenting “I’m in Asia, buddy, you gotta learn how to make fried rice, right?” True ‘dat.

Enough beans were consumed to feed an army. Nigel (master pyro) expertly stoked the fire. The wine warmed our minds and hearts, while firing up the conversation and laughter. Ra creatively concocted his version of “century eggs” steeped in tea, commenting “Our buns are going to be so sexy tomorrow, after this climb… I’m going to buy a G-string!” And yes, we were all scared. Later on after rounds of jokes (good, bad, clean, and of course dirty), the “Hot or Not?” question from earlier was resoundingly answered with an emphatic “HELL YEAH!” as we created an impromptu version. The girls cheered and jeered at the brave male contestants, with ratings given on the ever-critical elements of style, physique, looks, and whatever other on-the-spot critiques we could come up with. High marks went to Ra’s tough-guy masculine confidence, Darren’s impressive bicep curl, and Nigel’s shirt-ripping capability. We were lucky, lucky girls.

Somehow we survived through the night without any serious rain or wild boar attacks. Some slept soundly, others kept awake by the cold and monstrous winds blowing the trees. We had climbed a couple thousand feet to get to that point, so the air was thin and the mood rested in quiet respect of the summit in such close range. Initial plans of waking up to view the sunrise from the mountain top were squashed as our need to sleep prevailed (as well as our need to actually see our way to climb up there).

The View from the Top
One word: KICKASS (or is that two?)
Okay, a few more words. Windy as hell, cloudy and misty air as if from a horror novel, a narrow shot up in the sky that expanded into the heavens. As the clouds wisped by and passed us we caught glimpses of the expanding horizon, farms and hills and green lands as far as the eye could see. Just next to us, we viewed the same vision that you see out of the little window of an airplane. The feeling, the pride, the sense of accomplishment: the air swelled and nearly burst thick with our emotions. It rocked.

The Trek Down
Whoever said going down was going to be easy was pretty deceiving… this, too, was no mere stroll through the Botanical Gardens. The familiar checkpoints and terrain were a weary reminder of the previous day’s trespasses, except for some of the ways where we had to take a more “creative” approach in descending down slopes and through chasms. Ropes became the most feared enemy to our rapidly blistering hands.

Ra truly led the day in Rambo-commando style. Picking and poking at a 12 cm millipede with his hunting knife. Accessorized hip belt with two canteens holding water rations. Fatigue wrap-around head scarf. In all ways, he was tough. Yet it turns out he fooled us all, commenting on the climb down “You know, I don’t even really like this stuff [hiking] that much, I just like the people that do it!”