MTB Asia

8th Bakam Challenge, Miri Sarawak

2008-04-21T12:30:00.004+08:00

To be held on May 17th 2008 Sat, this off-road dualathon is the 8th in edition. The challenge is geared to weekend warriors and for the first time, it will be held in the picturesqe village of Kampoung Bakam; hence the slogan - Return to the Roots! Click here for more http://mmbc.com.my/v2/?p=57

Mountain Biking Miri Sarawak Borneo

2008-04-21T12:22:00.004+08:00

The first and only registered MTB club in the Land of the Hornbills http://www.mmbc.com.my/v2

MTBAsia.com Moved!

2008-04-01T01:29:00.001+08:00

The site previously known as http://www.mtbasia.com/ has now moved here, http://mtbasia.com/ :-) Please update your links.

THE EXTREME TOUR OF REJANG (ETOR)2000 - Stage 4, Kanowit to Sibu

2000-07-21T00:07:00.002+08:00

Fri 21st July - Despite the late start on the last day of the ride, the routine of the previous days had established a set wake-up routine for us. The thought of a relatively easy 50km ride to Sibu had everyone in extremely cheerful spirit that morning. The plan was to start our journey from Kanowit town itself.

Packed into a Toyota Land Cruiser pickup, 7 bikes and riders and a driver, we flout every rules in the book to get transferred to the town from the timber camp. With no record at stake, the extra 20-km let off was the only luxury for our battered body.

That's 7 riders/ bikes and a driver versus a pickup truck
We left the great hospitality of the people of Camp Mapai, with four of us in the back of the pickup courting danger of a different kind. Hanging to anything, we were bounced and wind blown all the way to the river crossing at Sedaya Secondary School. I reminisced the battle I had with mud, cramp and heat along this stretch of the road last year, which by now is fully tarred. This probably explained why we weren't too eager to ride this section of the tour.

The sun seemed to know that we needed some challenge to compensate for the flat terrain we would be riding through. The temperature rose, fittingly in the same manner as the opening stage of the tour. A short bike tour of Kanowit town and a wonderful lunch of low fat grilled chicken and rice, the team (including the support crew) headed for the fire road that would take us to the mid-way point, the town of Durin.

Riding roadie style, we were making good time. The sun was fierce and the dust were there but without the aid of much traffic they could only throw their occasional flimsy veil at us.
A small incline came into sight and Malcolm went, "Hills!" and that was the only excitement until we reached the town of Durin for a break; to time our arrival into Sibu and to do a phone-in to the local radio station for our daily report.

There were now about 20-km of riding to do, through a country side aptly described by Glen as , 'a picturesque rush'.

In front of a typical farm house in the area

The combination of cement footpath, pre-war farm houses, durian orchards and plenty of canopy cover transported us into a world, refreshing to most of us, hardened by the single tracks and technical terrains typical of Ibans and Bidayuhs (Sarawak natives) country. The well-worn path with the occasional dips, the surreal feeling of deserted farm houses, the quiet lay back ambience of the area left an indelible mark in each one of us. If ever there was a need for us to be reminded of the recreational aspect of mountain biking than this place had been successful.

Typical of the cement path and shade along this stretch of the ride
After what seemed like an endless cement path ride, it finally ended at a fire road for a butt- jarring ride to the ferry point. The FSR was worth its weight in gold as it glided effortlessly over the gravelly terrain.

The internal combustion engines of some were running on hot when I decided to increase the pace after realising that we were behind schedule. We separated and re-grouped on several occasions. 'Glen, I don't want to see you!' as I cast my eyes to the rear helping him to take advantage of my draft. The rest followed in Glen's wake. My familiarity of the area told me that the pace had to be maintained for the 4pm welcoming ceremony.

"Big job, well done" says the advertisement slogan

The elations were understandably uninhibited as we rolled into the ferry point one after the other. Bear hugs, warm hand-shakes, back slapping and smiles made their rounds on board the ferry as I called Eddy Puah, the Bureau Chief of Sarawak Tribune, Central region, of our pending arrival at Tanahmas Hotel.

After 4 days, 200 km, we arrived at Tanahmas Hotel, Sibu at 4:07pm to a warm welcome by En. Daniel Ngieng, The Political Secretary to The Chief Minister, The Assistant Secretary of Sibu Municipal Council, Mr. Hii Chang Kee, friends and supporters.

Hip hip hurray!

May the Tour lives on.................and thank God for answered prayers and journey safety.

THE EXTREME TOUR OF REJANG (ETOR)2000 - Stage 3, Song to Kanowit Epic Ride

2000-07-20T23:45:00.005+08:00

Thurs 20th July - As we continued our stevedoring saga, this time from the jetty up to the Camp Iran's office, we thought the place was a little too quiet for comfort. Where was the pre-arranged 4X4 for the longest ride of the tour? "The Camp Manager has gone back to Sibu and the foreman is in a transit camp deep in the forest" offered the canteen operator, much to our consternation. We were annoyed and thinking hard at the same time. A logging camp was not a place where transportation could be at your beck and call. To compound to the anxiety, we received a call from Sibu that our transport from Kanowit to Sibu had been 'snatched' fro

A quick change of plan. Take all the food and emergency repair supplies and tools for a 5-hour ride max. By then, hopefully, the support crew would have met us head-on coming from Camp Mapai's side; provided that they were not hampered by land-slides which were quite common in an abandoned logging trail. All told, it was not a good start to the longest stage of ETOR 2000.

But it had been a pleasant experience at breakfast table earlier in Song. There in the coffee shop where we had breakfast, was black leather bound chair that had the team doing the "musical chair" . It was a mechanical massage contraption that had rollers going up and down one's back in varying patterns of massaging techniques. Three minutes of bliss! Ah..........and fuelled up with the usual Popeye's stuff, the comforting thought of a cooler day and no dust to contend with, we were in high spirit.

Watched on by a group of bemused camp workers, the team with each rider heavier in weight, set off with a quiet confidence that we still had each other to depend on. The pace was slow having the learnt the lesson of the first day. Yes, the climbs confronted us almost immediately but fortunately they were more gentle. As usual Malcolm was in his element, taking to his flight of fancy, leaving the rest to keep each other company.

The weather was a contrast to the first day's ride. The temperature was probably in the 30's but cooler in the shade. The road condition so far had been as expected; free of dust, hard and fast.
As the hours went by, the continuous climbs began to sap the strength of the riders. The elevation of the logging roads going into the hinterland are characteristically steeper in climbs and shorter in descents. I could hear the hard breathing of Liu as Glen, Fui and I kept pace with him and with each other. Liu had performed admirably so far for a 51-year old. However yesterday's ride at the Communist Trail had taken a big toll on his body.

The breathtaking scenery at the second highest peak in the region. That's Liu snuggling up to Glen......

It was moment like this when group dynamics came into play. Glen, Fui and myself took turns pushing Liu's bike up the countless climbs. Not to sound like superman, some of the climbs were unrideable for us. And I was still carrying the flu and over-exertion would only force mucous further down into the lungs.

"Walking up is just as hard", complained Liu between sips of water from his camelback. He was referring to the two monster climbs with one peaking at 2,200ft

"This is the 4.30 pm road", observed Glen on the seemingly hastily cut incline on an already long climb. Fui and I thought the view was a reward for all the hard work. All of us had lunch on top of the second highest point in the region; the best panoramic view ever in our gastronomic experience. Lunch consisted of a sachet of Power Bar gel, kong piahs (yes!) and beef jerky to hold the food in our system.

Soon we turned left into an abandoned stretch of logging road, the link to another logging road which would take us to our destination; Camp Mapai. Deep in my heart I was hoping that we did not have to suffer the nightmarish muddy slog that I went through last year. It had rained for two days in the area. My confidence soon soared as the trail surface maintained its dignity. Yeah...we were going to make good time.

The beauty of the region still had the same enthralling effect on me; the deep valleys where virgin forest had stood for centuries, the pleasing sight of the blue hue in the atmosphere as a result of oil emitted by millions of leaves, cool and refreshing oxygen laden air and great company, ...this time .....to marvel together.

A picture paints a thousand words............

As we were negotiating a technical descent, I suddenly caught sight of two figures on the slope of the next hill. "Support!, support!...", I exclaimed. It was Daron and Eunice. Their support truck had been impeded by a land slide. They had walked ahead waiting for photo shooting opportunities. It was fortunate that the meeting point wasn't any further away. Relieved and none more so than Liu who wisely made the decision to travel with the support truck until he was fully recovered. Glenn limped into the support area with a broken chain. Fui was taking it all along in his stride.

There were still about six hours to go according to our estimate. Refueled, recovered, chain fixed and with the reassurance of a backup, the remaining 4 of us set off increasing the pace a little bit. Roadrunner (Malcolm) was with us for while until Glen felt the strain of keeping with the pace setting in. Mind you, to have come this far was already an amazing feat considering the amount of preparation he took. His body was sore especially the muscles around the scapula region. An impromptu massage temporarily relieved the sting.

The climbs and descents along this stretch were technical. There was one which was about 2-km long and it was basically putting one foot over the other. Mud was still present in sections where water could not drain off. The mud was thick and sticky enough to adhere itself all over our bikes and annoyingly in the clipless pedal. Fortunately there were few.

"Stop, Illegal immigrant check!", shouted Daron, as he playfully flagged us down. He wanted to show us the local version of Viagra known as 'Tongkat Ali". Wow, wonder if it were any good for cyclists. If the resilient nature of the plant were any indication, then its reputation was justified. The leaves were as tough as Dupont material and the plant near impossible to uproot. Consider this, the plant we encountered could not be persuaded to leave its home when some timber workers had earlier tried to use a 4X4 to pull it out , with a rope tied around the 1-inch circumference trunk.

What about the deer and the monkey? Daron would later recount the story , how he first saw a Kijang (local word for deer) and had wanted Eunice to film the animal. Unaware of the National Geographic instinct of Eunice, Malcolm sent the deer scuttling as he came hurtling round the corner.

The Macaque monkey that ran across my path was a change from the majestic rhinocerous hornbill I saw last year. It must have been a male judging by the size of it as it scampered into the bush. This is in the wild remember....hence the excitement.

Not all were hard work though.......this was about a 60km/h km-long descent. Definitely FSR country!

The weather has grown to be quite hot now as we rode into the lower topography of the region. We were regularly sucking Replace from our camelback to keep the electrolytes level up and the cramps away. The support truck kept us reassured and replenished. The white towel wrapped around our neck provided additional cooling mechanism. It kept the sun off the back of our neck and the dampness of it kept the heat at bay.

It is always a good feeling when one has reached a certain point of a journey as one is able to gauge the possibilities. For us that feeling was felt when we left the link trail for the home stretch to Camp Mapai. As is the characteristic of logging roads, there were now longer descents and shorter climbs. The speed was gnarly to say the least, and thrilling to boost. Attempts by Glen to use the speed as inertia for the climbs worked occasionally but he would discover that nothing beat technique. The smooth surface of the rolling terrain was like one giant roller-coaster. With wind howling in our ears and the upper body staying as loose as possible, we were having the ride of our life time. Fui would not quite agree to this however.

7 hours, 8 hours..........passed by. Liu rejoined Malcolm ahead as Glen, Fui and myself brought up the rear. The old soldier in Glen prodded him on. He was seemingly on survival mode as he tackled the climbs admirably. There were still no let-up in climbs. "You guys go ahead", offered Glen as he realised that his pace was slowing us down. I refused. It was just not in the spirit of the tour. Fui and I were to become his de-facto body guards till the end of this stage.

"We are almost there!", I shouted out. The familiar terrain sent a feeling of relief. after 9 hours into the ride. In a way I was glad that we did not have ride all the way to Kanowit town, my destination last year. It would have taken another 2 hours at least. Braking gingerly, we rolled downhill to cross a public road junction to enter the last stretch of the logging road to Camp Mapai. Our elations dampened the dusty condition for we knew that we had gained the respect of Mother (Father) Nature.

74km and 10 hours; we looked at one another too caught up in our introspections of what had been.

THE EXTREME TOUR OF REJANG (ETOR)2000 - Stage 2, Song - Communist Trail

2000-07-19T23:27:00.001+08:00

Wed 19th July - Everyone seemed jovial and in high spirit at the breakfast tables of the little Hua Kee coffee shop in Kapit. We were probably their single largest paying customer in a long time as we gobbled up in true mountain bikers tradition, the noodles, hard boiled eggs and an assortment of beverages spiked with protein powder; and including the usual morning 'doping' rituals of vitamin supplements and iron capsules. I still needed my anti-histamines.

As we boarded the express boat for Song under the bright early morning sun, I guessed all of us had this quite sense of relief that today's stage would be like our normal Sunday ride along the single tracks of Kuching; shaded, relatively technical and middle chain ring experience.

It was Hollywood this time as 'Gladiators' kept some of us , especially Glenn, entertained during the one-hour journey to Song. "This is the fifth time I have seen this movie", he enthused. Perhaps he could relate to the gladiators.

With folks of Rumah Rawing, the entry point to the 'Communist Trail'. In the background is the mighty Rajang River which is 350 miles long; what it lacks in length to the Amazon River, it makes up in the volume of water discharged into the South China Sea.

After a quick check-in into the well-maintained Song Government Rest House, we were transferred to Rumah Rawing; about 25 speedboat minutes away. The place was bustling with expectations and excitement as we climbed up the long steps to be greeted by the headman and his entourage.

Thankfully we were spared the traditional welcoming ceremony ( where a pig is speared before visitors enter the longhouse). Glenn would probably have been eager to do so after watching 'Gladiators'. (Sorry, Glenn, picking on you again.) Instead the entourage was given a traditionally tour of the longhouse (43-room long); from one end to the other accompanied by the sound of gongs and drums. Malcolm and I playfully broke into a nagjat (Iban form of dancing) every now and then to liven up the atmosphere. We, however, got the real thing when an elder (the guy with the jacket and tie in the photo) strut his stuff worthy of a ballerina.

But, why is it called the 'Communist Trail'? Tuai Rumah (the headman) of Rumah Rawing had this to say, " During the communist insurgency, the locals needed a route to escape from the clutches of the enemies. And so this trail was cut deep into the jungle, carved over and round hills; and rugged terrain". There may be some truth in the story. As the longboat is the main mode of transport for the Ibans, it doesn't make much sense to cut a trail this long (15km) just to serve a longhouse (Rumah Sari) with no farming activities in between. Whatever it is, the trail provided the team a change of scenery from the previous day hot and dusty environment.

The calm before the storm as the riders provided the folks some diversions from their normal rustic lifestyle.

Eunice and Daron joined us as we cycled single file to the trail head, invoking ripples of greetings, laughters, giggles and curiousity from the locals in our wake. A few minutes into the trail, Daron remarked, "This is just like the the Singai trail back home in Kuching". The rest agreed in similar fashion as conversations flowed freely. Yes, a recovery ride it would be, with smiles all round.

As the hot midday sun struggled to cast its heat through the leaves, you would have swore there were smirks on our face. The riders began to feel at home. Roots, a mixture of short gentle and steep inclines with the occasional gullies and depressions, wooden bridges and tight single tracks were lapped up with glee. The two amazing guides assigned to us managed to keep up with us as a result of several stops for photo shoots. When you consider that it was a 3-hour walking journey to our destination, we were glad then to be on our saddle.

That's right folks, the drop that you see in the picture on the right is a sheer one and this is reflective of the type of single track found most of the way to Rumah Sari. In some sections, one wrong move will send you clinging to branches for your dear life!

About 4 km into the ride, we came to the only longhouse between Rumah Sari and Rumah Rawing; Rumah Saing which was to prove its usefulness later in the day. We were still in the right frame of mind for a photo shoot as a stream crossing flow across our path. With the midday sun casting a beam of light through an opening of the canopy directly onto the stream, there had to be a Kodak moment as well as a time to enjoy the coolness of the water.

As I surveyed the hike section on the opposite bank of the river, little did we know that we were soon to receive our baptism of fire. There was a sudden transformation of landscape as the trail became a footpath and the climbs became longer. Pushing and walking the bike was getting more regular. In some downhill sections, it was a stomach on the saddle experience and brake pads began to protest as they work overtime. "The terrain is so deceptive, the climb looks easy but the effort seemed herculean as the minutes ticked by" remarked Malcolm in disbelief as he checked his Polar HRM. Yes, the thick vegetation had camouflaged the severity of the elevation.

The attrition rate began to take its toll. " I could hear my heart throbbing in my ears" said Daron in between mouthful of breaths. Liu found the going tough. Fatigue and lapses in concentration began to set in for the rest of the team. The single track took its literal meaning for a slight off-balance would send you down a 200-foot drop. I took a fall on the wrong side of the track and fortunately the trees and branches saved me from my momentary lapse of concentration.

Wanting to make it back to Song in the early afternoon, we stepped up the pace a bit more and whatever recovery we were looking for vanished into the dense humid tropical rainforest. Soon the groups began to split up into three. Without the handicap of a pushing a bike the two guides caught up with the back marker. By then Eunice and Daron had decided that it was time to turn back. The two guides accompanied them. Fui waited for Liu while I went after Malcolm and Glenn.

The remaining riders eventually regrouped at the foot of a hill. With no line of sight of our destination and carrying the flu, I decided to join Liu to retrace our way back to Rumah Rawing. Malcolm, Glenn and Fui soldiered on. And unbeknown to us, our destination was just over that hill! It's amazing how our mind functions isn't it? Had our guides been with us, Liu and I would have enjoyed the hospitality of the folks of Rumah Sari. "They have heard of our coming over the radio and they have been expecting us" reported Malcolm later.

Another hazard, rickety old bridge.

The weather was so hot despite the shade that Liu and I had to wade into two streams to cool down our body. It brought immense relief to two overworked internal combustion engines. The orange that we brought along never tasted sweeter or juicier. The return journey was easier as there were more and longer descends. But we still have the same terrain to contend with. Liu took a tumble as he stepped into a void while trying to dismount at a difficult section. Fortunately his bike was okay! (him as well.)

Rumah Saing, the longhouse I mentioned earlier was to be our transit point on the return journey. Eunice and Daron had earlier been feted with cordial drinks and biscuits. Liu and I happily rolled into the compound of the longhouse with little water to spare. We were spent! I could feel my body's temperature rising as the flu bug took advantage of the chaos in my internal organs. Eunice handed me an Advil tablet which helped me to drift off into a light sleep. It proved beneficial.

I was awoken by the noise of Malcolm and Fui. But where was Glenn? "Oh, he is running with the bike", announced Malcolm. "A branch caught his rear derailleur and ripped it off its dropout and bending it in the process ", he added. Bad news! Hopefully we could find a saviour in Song.

We were simply glad to make it back to Rumah Sawing at four that afternoon, where our lunch had been waiting since....lunch time. We ravenously pumped food into our depleted body as the whole longhouse watched on. When asked why our high-tech bicycles could not outdo their 4-hour return walking time, we had to sheepishly replied that we had spent a lot of time taking photos. If the forest could talk.........

As our speedboat skimmed above the waters of the Rajang River back to Song, flashes of lightning streaked across the darkened sky. We knew that the ensuing rain would keep the dust away for the epic ride; Camp Iran to Camp Mapai.

The only mechanic in town turned out to be Glenn's saviour as his hydraulic press flattened the dropout into place. A quick transplant job was done to solve Fui's Judy's hairline fracture problem. Eunice became Fui's damsel to the rescue when her Judy XL temporarily gave him a peace of mind for the much awaited highlight of the tour; 10 hours, 70-km of climbs and descends averaging between 1,500-2,200ft.

What more could you ask for?

THE EXTREME TOUR OF REJANG (ETOR)2000 - Stage 1, Pelagus to Kapit

2000-07-18T23:07:00.008+08:00

Tues 18th July - There had to be the ubiquitous flag-off albeit a ceremonial one. Michael Sawing did the honour against the backdrop of the early morning mist.

The team with Michael Sawing, the chief honcho of the Kapit Division and Mathew Ading, Manager of the Regency Pelagus Resort prior to the first stage of the tour.

Thereafter, the team was ferried to Camp Ecobay, about 10 minutes away, but not before going through the dreaded ritual of embarkation and disembarkation with all the luggage in tow. At least it provided some degree of warming up.

At Camp Ecobay, light breakfast was the classic instant noodles with eggs (still carbo and protein to the body) followed by the daily morning ritual of loading up with vitamin supplements and iron capsule. Michael had an extra dosage in the form of anti-histamine. His cold has taken a turn for the worse. On the contrary, Malcolm was ready to eat hills for breakfast. "Radicals were popping out of his head and green smoke emitting from his body", that's how Glenn would later put it, judging from a handful of vitamin tablets and capsules he shoved down his throat. Well, he is a big man! (6ft 1in)

Report from the camp manager that the logging road was choc-a- block full of inch thick dust got us to bring out our bandana to prepare for the inevitable. But we were all raring to go.

Bad move! Wham!........the hills hit you almost immediately before your internal combustion engine could fire smoothly. Trust Glenn to use his clipless pedal for the first time. And his heart and spirit did not seem to be on working terms that morning. Push he had to, up those 15-18% gradient hills. Practically everyone's heart rate were off the lactate threshold limit. But Malcolm seemed to lap up the climbs like a 6-year old would on his ice-cream stick. If he were feeling the pinch, he was not showing it. The 3-km first course of the day to the junction of the main logging road seemed hard to swallow. The sun gave a bit of respite but came back with a vengeance for the rest of the day.

It was now mid-morning and our camelback was working overtime. We were riding along a very busy section of the stage. The heavy traffic of logging and and coal mining trucks, combined with the drought in the region, we soon understood what the camp manager had earlier warned us about. Dust and dust storm! Imagine hundreds of thousand of talcum powder canisters being being emptied of its content along this stretch of the road - all 27 km of it. One wrong squeeze of the front brake and you would get a washout (Fui would say, ' Ouch') and the dust storm whipped up by the trucks blinded the riders.

It was an amazing sight to see those coal mine trucks tackle the hills under the hostile condition. First, you hear the roar of the 10,000 cc turbo-charged engine as it crawled its way to the crest of the hill and then an even louder roar as the driver gunned the 18-wheeler down the slope as if he were late for an appointment. During one of these performances, we happened to have a front on view of two trucks screaming down the slope. The trailer end would bob up and down, flex sideways as the driver fought the wheels to keep the juggernauts true on course. He had to! We were all too vulnerable!

All dusted up while fixing a puncture. Note the colour of the road.

30 km may seem short by any standard. But throw in the heat, dust and long climbs, the morning seemed long. In fact when noon came, we could still see volumes of dust rising in the distance, which indicated to us that base camp was nowhere near. Water was running low and food was kong piah and an apple each. In fact some of us had to share our water. Oh, the thought of a cold can of Coca-Cola tickling our throat started to dance in our head.

We had to get to Camp Tulle eventually and got there we did. 'Water!, water!', our body cried out even before we got off our saddle. It was unbearably hot - hot enough to adequately dry our jersey, gloves, shoes and socks in the 1 1/2 hour lunch stopover there. Lunch was noodles and eggs and flashbacks of the ride so far - 2 tyre punctures, fast and tricky descent, long granny climbs, dust storm, a hairline fracture just below the brake hanger on Fui's Judy XC, abrasions and bruises and stunt performance by the truckies.

The smiles were before the disembarkation ritual..........at Aman log pond.

The embarkation and disembarkation ritual again! I guessed we were all resigned to the fact by then. The transfer from Camp Tulle to Aman log pond 5 minutes away on the opposite bank of the river had to be done. And Glenn had to cause a little diversion as boat QSB 6069 had to turn around for him to fish his hat out of the river.

Another 10-km to go and we were soon joined by a group of local mountain biking enthusiasts. The ride was a breeze until the local mountain bikers decided to test how good we were. Ah...contrary to their early publicly stated intention of joining the team for a group ride, it turned out to be an impromptu race into Kapit. Daron, Liu and Malcolm were ready for them, however. Being less race smart, they fell for the decoy in Daron who tried to wear them out by attacking as soon as their intention were known. Meanwhile, Malcolm and Liu knew that they would have the reserve for the final stretch which included a hill climb. By the time the riders reached the hill, the local riders were a spent force including Daron naturally. And Malcolm and Liu ate them for tea! Michael, Eunice and Fui decided to have their tea at the 4.00pm reception while Glenn probably couldn't wait to have his when he inexplicably rode into Kapit alone ahead of his teammates who were timing their entry into the town for the start of the official group ride.

The Kapit Celebrations next..................and more photos of ride to come..............

THE EXTREME TOUR OF REJANG (ETOR)2000 - Kuching to Sibu

2000-07-16T22:18:00.003+08:00

16th July, 8.43pm - Its 'hammer time' literally. After a 6 1/2hour drive from Kuching to Sibu and an hour shaking the cob-webs off the legs around the outskirts of Sibu, the Etor team is in Hai Bing Seafood Restaurant for the much anticipated house specialty, 'Black Pepper Crab'. What is most amusing about this dinning experience is the use of real hammer for the job of breaking the shell of the crabs; thus the use of the phrase 'hammer time'. How apt for us mountain bikers!

Hammer time re-defined

Tomorrow the team will depart for Pelagus at 9.30am. We know that John is 'shattered' but we will be with you in spirit, John (if you are reading this). Yu Siong, we hammer a crab for you.:)

THE EXTREME TOUR OF REJANG (ETOR)2000 - Preparations 1 week to D-Day

2000-07-15T22:12:00.000+08:00

Logistics is still a concern. Apparently it is a very busy time of the year for timber companies, with the dry weather and all. 4x4s is crucial for logistics support and hopefully we will be able to know before we depart for Sibu on Sunday 16th. All else are firmly in place with the loose ends expected to be tied up. The supporters have been very enthusiastic in their assistance; we've even got our menu lined up on the morning of the ride by one of our hosts - Hariwood - sensible pre-ride good old-fashioned porridge at Camp Ecobay - owned by Hariwood

12th July 10.05pm - A slight hiccup; mud slide has made some sections of the Iran-Mapai stage impassable. The longest stage of the tour has suddenly thrown the team an extra challenge. At this moment we have yet to get in touch with the man on the ground to find out more about the washed out trails. Malcolm was hoping this would not put a damper to the tour as he was looking forward to the climbs.

Two releases came out in the Sarawak Tribune that concerned the keen wishes of the Kapit mountain bikers to be part of the first stage of the tour. First and foremost, they have to realise that this a close event, not a race and that logistics are planned around the Etor team. However, they are welcome to participate with the understanding that they are completely on their own. To take matter to the public has generated publicity for the event nevertheless!

There are other avenues to test their skills against others; that is the Junaco Park Mountain Bike Race Sibu and the Rainforest Cup - Cross Country in Lundu, Kuching.

13th July 5.10pm - It has been a good day for the event. Received report from the Camp Manager of Camp Mapai that although the Iran-Mapai stretch was impassable to 4x4, the good news was that the riders could bike and hike over the affected stretches. This means that the support crew will accompany the riders as far as logistically possible before they will turn back to base camp (Camp Iran) for a speed boat ride to the destination camp (Camp Mapai); where they will meet the riders head-on.

Naturally Malcolm was pleased to hear this piece of news. He, obviously, relishes the challenge of tackling those rolling hill stretches. I couldn't wait to ask for his opinion after he has done this stage.

A bit of promo work of the event was done over the RTM radio network. Malcolm and Michael were interviewed on the 91.9FM talk-show programme with Coma Smith.

14th July 4.00pm - Received word that our American rider/writer, John Hagedorn has to iron out his work permit renewal. At this juncture the team do not know if he could make it for the tour. We are keeping our fingers crossed.

15th July 12.34pm - Its official, John Hagedorn won't be able to make it to the tour. Needless to say this is disappointing to the organiser. The group has been whittled down to 5 riders; Michael, Malcolm, Uncle Liu, Glen McNair and Jong Tze Fui. Unexpectedly, the rose among the thorn, Eunice will join in the ride Way to go Eunice!

The Sibu 100 Celeberation committee headed by YB Lau Hui Chew is expected to see the riders off at the Kapit Jetty at 9.00am 17th July. And what novel and better way to do it than to garland each and every rider a string of 'Kong Pias'

The team will be making an overland trip to Sibu at 9.00am tomorrow (Sun) for a night's layover in Sibu.

THE EXTREME TOUR OF REJANG (ETOR)2000 - The Launch Press Conference in Sibu

2000-06-16T22:06:00.003+08:00

This press conference marked the beginning of a media build-up to ETOR 2000 which was graced by YB Dato' Dr. James Masing, the Minister for Tourism, Sarawak. Also present were the orgainser of the event, with some of the riders and local dignitaries from government departments.

Eunice Jitam addressing the well attended press conference.

Six riders with ages ranging from 19 to 51 representing four different nationalities will attempt to ride over 300km in four days from The Regency Pelagus Resort to Sibu. The team will have stopovers in Kapit, Song and Kanowit.

The function was held at the Igan Room, Tanahmas Hotel, Sibu at 10 a.m. on Friday 16 June, 2000.

THE EXTREME TOUR OF REJANG (ETOR)2000 - Kong Pia

2000-06-01T23:01:00.002+08:00

'Kong Pia' or Guang Bing was invented by the hero General Ji Guang to solve the problem of his soldiers' food ration in their long marches during the Anti-Japanese Occupation War. The hole in the middle of the bread is so that the soldier can string them together for easy carriage; usually around their neck. The general's legacy has since been carried on to the present day by the overseas Foochows.

Sibu is the home of Guang Bing in Malaysia and no food is as synonymous to the Foochow as the Guang Bing. "Kong Pia" as is colloquially known, is baked in a tandoori- type oven and its texture is like that of a bagel. Best taken warm, it is a versatile bread which can be eaten as is, with meat, peanut butter and butter, preserved vegetable or whatever takes your fancy..

The Etor2000 riders and support crew will relive the original purpose of General Ji Guang with the added supplement of modern day invention in Power Bar and the likes.

THE EXTREME TOUR OF REJANG (ETOR)2000 - The Cast

2000-06-01T22:03:00.000+08:00

From left: Michael 'Sibu Special' (Team Captain), Hong Kong Fui (courtesy of Steve Peat), Husky Liu, Mum Eunice, Roadrunner Malcolm, 4B's Glen and Daron (Support)

THE EXTREME TOUR OF REJANG (ETOR) 2000

2000-06-01T21:21:00.000+08:00

A distance of 200km in 4 days, a total riding time of 18 hours over terrain where there are no flats, only climbs and descends, heat, rain, extreme conditions, right smack in the center of Borneo- that's what it's all about.

Meet the riders

Michael Lu, 39, was the pioneer and trail blazer as he rode his way into the Malaysian book of Records by riding solo from Kapit to Sibu. Apart from mountain biking, Michael participates in triathlons and running marathons. He works as a Sales and Marketing Manager for Openlink Software Asia. One bike man, current equipment: Specialized FSR XC.

Malcolm Jitam, 40, was one of the few who was instrumental in popularising mountain biking in Sarawak. He races regularly both on and off road and likes the great outdoors with rock climbing being his other passion. He is a tourism and leisure consultant and assist hotels and resorts in setting up their recreation unit. Has 4 bikes but will use: Specialized M2 Stumpjumper.

Glen McNair, 34, is a South African who is addicted to adrenalin rushes. He does base jumping, sky diving and rock climbs for kicks, apart from riding mountain bikes. He works as a forester and loves birthday parties. One bike man a Schwinn Moab 2.

Liu Shan Chong, 51, is the eldest of the riders. Once overweight with health problems, he now has become physically and mentally younger. Liu, a black belt holder in Judo, runs the Hash but holds back on the post runs celebrations. He works in the road building industry. Has a road and off road Diamondback Hardtail bike.

Jong Tze Fui, 19, is the youngest of the gang. He lives around cycling and used to ride for the state team. This A- student is awaiting entry into university with Environmental Engineering as the major. Apart from the bike, he spends most nights as the kitchen supervisor at his family's restaurant. Has road and off road bike a Fisher Xcalliber XC.

John Hagedorn, 42, was perhaps one of earliest person to ride a 'real' mountain bike in Malaysia. He embraces a healthy life and has documented the rise and growth of mountain biking in the region. He is a language and skills consultant and works around Asia. Has tow mountain bikes, both classic but will use Specialized Stumpjumper (Classic).

Eunice Jitam, 35, is the extreme tour coordinator. This active lady goes rock climbing and also does gym sessions to keep in shape apart from riding her 3 bikes. Together with Malcolm, they run a tourism and leisure consultancy apart from taking care of a home. Current equipment: Ibis Ti Mojo.

What is the Extreme Tour of Rejang 2000?

It is essentially a media event covering a tough challenging mountain bike ride by 6 riders from 3 nationalities, over a distance of 250 km+ from Pelagus to Sibu in 4 days.

Why? (Objectives)

To bring to attention the attractions in the central region of Sarawak
To highlight the adventure potentials in the central region of Sarawak.
To highlight the whole area from Pelagus to Sibu as ONE whole region.
To highlight the 'Malaysia Boleh' spirit to succeed.
To run an adventure to build it up to an event for hard core adventure seekers in the future.

When?

From 17-22 July, 2000.

How?

Day 1 - 17 Jul, Mon Travel to Sibu, Kapit and to PelagusO/n Pelagus Resort
Day 2 - 18 Jul, TuesRide from Pelagus to Kapit (est.75 km)Meet YB Dato Dr. James Masing in Kapit with ceremonyO/n Melagai Hotel, Kapit
Day 3 - 19 Jul, WedBoat Transfer Kapit/SongRide Communist Trail in Song and lunch with Sibu STA Liaisons Frankie Ting (60 km)O/n Song Government Resthouse
Day 4 - 20 Jul, ThursEpic ride Song to Kanowit (est.95km)O/n Kanowit
Day 5 - 21 Jul, FriPM Ride Kanowit to Sibu (est.70 km)Arrive in Sibu with ceremonies with local dignateries.Press conference in Tanahmas HotelO/n Tanahmas Hotel
Day 6 - 22 Jul, SatDepart Sibu for respective hometowns.

Press Conference

Eunice Jitam addressing the well attended press conference.

The function was held at the Igan Room, Tanahmas Hotel, Sibu at 10 a.m. on Friday 16 June, 2000.

ETOR is brought to you by the Ministry of Tourism, Sarawak, with the support of The Tourism Task Force of Kapit and Sibu Division

Downhill Racing - In The Land of Kimchi and Chaebols

2000-01-01T22:39:00.000+08:00

The jumping arts aren't as well-developed here in Korea as in the West or Japan. DH races are held in conjunction with the XC races, a little less often than once a month from March to November. There are no DS races yet. There is no BMX scene whatsoever (although there is a very small group of freestylers), and one BMX shop that I know of, which is in Ilsan. There are occasional trials competitions and a handful of riders.

I race DH here in Korea, in the pro class, along with one other expat. This doesn't mean we could race pro back in the US, but it means we've won in the only other DH class here--beginner. So there are only two classes, and the race courses, which are absolutely easy, are the same for both classes.

Some courses are just simple dirt roads, and I avoid those races because I'd rather just ride some great singletrack around Seoul. In the pro class, there are about 25 racers nationwide, and twice that in the beginner class. There are no separate categories for age, although sometimes students have their own category. Races usually cost 10,000 won and include lunch. You can hop on someone's shuttle for practice runs. Starting times and races tend to be disorganized; although the situation is improving, the race dates themselves always seem to change.

Courses, which are usually not designed by DHers or even cyclists, are changed at the last second, often without input from the racers themselves, in violation of UCI rules (in one case all the racers were at the starting line for the seed run and no one told us the track had been rerouted onto another track two-thirds of the way down...surprise!). Anyway, a good time can still be had, since all the racers know and help each other, and you'll be going up against the Korean national team members.

It's strange that there are no challenging DH race courses at the advanced level, because Korea, and especially Seoul, is full of full-on descents, with steeps, ledges, big rocks, chutes, hucks, berms, and so on. Oh well. If you want to race DH here, almost any bike with DH tires will do. Perhaps bringing a triple chainringed freerider is the best bet for an expat who is only going to be in Korea for a year or two, since there is only one lift-served singletrack (Phoenix Park ski resort, Kangwon Province) in the entire country, and few shuttle options. You'll spend a lot of your time pedaling or pushing uphill. Korean trails are typically not undulating, but rather all up or all down, and steep, which is perfect for freeriding or DH.

Park Sung-min, who runs a little shop in Suwon called MTB House (1 hour south of Seoul by subway), and who is one of the top DHers in the country, can be contacted for current DH info. Limited English, but a good guy and a good resource.

Article and photo reproduced with kind permission of Steve Danyo

Pot of Gold at the End of the Rainbow

2000-01-01T22:35:00.000+08:00

Driving into Sg Lembing was like a drive back in time. That row of houses on stilts as we entered this ex-mining town looked very antiquated, if not eerie, in the moonlight. Wooden buildings outnumber concrete ones easily by 5 to 1. You are quickly hit by the still and stale air the moment you step out of the air-conditioning comfort of your car. What strikes you most are the many Chinese association halls representing different dialect groups, of which the Hakka one was to be our temporary abode, like it was for many immigrant Chinese tin miners many years before.

With my family in tow, I was accorded the privilege of one of the 3 rooms available and be spared from the many �gas turbines� that were geared for full blast later that night. But privacy was not a privilege that came without a penalty �the room was like an oven, even with a stand-alone fan at maximum power and the sole window as wide-opened as could be. In contrast, the crowded open hall was so much cooler with all the ceiling fans turned full blast. Well, you win some, you lose some.

As always, nobody slept well on occasions like this. Heat and humidity aside, the hall seemed to see streams of travellers dropping by in the wee hours. Sounds of screaming kids probably woke up everybody hours before the official wake-up call at 6.30am! Consequently, by 7.30am almost everybody had had their breakfast and all geared to ride. Later, we just hung around watching the local folks went about their Sunday marketing at the open-air market nearby.
After the obligatory photography session, we hit the road by which time it was close to 9.00am. And the sun looked like it was going to give us a real good roasting anytime soon.

'Primal' Retribution
The ride started promisingly enough with that extra 6km to the �ghost town�. It branched off from the main road after a couple of km and broke into a fire-road with tall lallang and shrubs on both sides. But what was left of the �ghost town� was nothing more than a few abandoned wooden structures. One of the abandoned structures had become a �weekend� home for a local who had cultivated some fruit trees in the vicinity. He claimed that wild animals visited the place at night, animals like tigers, tapirs and leopards.

The skeleton on Matt�s jersey (yeah Primal) provided the other 'ghostly' effect . Apparently, he had forgotten to appease that ghost for he was punished with a 2-inch nail in his rear tyre. And he would have 2 more flats before the end of the day was over!
A 5km-road ride later, we arrived at the last watering hole at Kolek. By this time, the sun was high above and roasting us. We were led into an oil palm estate. There was a river to our left and you had to fight strong desire not to jump in!

Panadols - A Panacea for Killer Hills
We exited the estate onto a logging track. It was highway wide that you could ride 10 abreast! Shade came at a premium and God blessed those who came without sunblock. Immediately flashing in my mind was the roasting we had at Gua Musang last year.

The only difference was we had slightly more shade this time. Passing the videocam to James was also a smart thing to do. It easily lightened my load by at least half a pound. Then came that killer hill which reminded me of our very own �Ugly Sisters� trail back in the Klang Valley. Only this had no ruts. Riding it would be a sheer waste of energy if not foolhardy, given the hot sun. My head was already throbbing like a disco. In the distance I could see Uncle Boh, Danny and Teres shifting down to the 4th chain-ring? one after another. Smart thing to do under the circumstances. And so I followed suit, and then watched in awe as Mrs. Sadist casually rode past while we huffed and puffed.... pushing our bikes!

At the top of the climb, I immediately popped a couple of Panadols into my mouth before my brain exploded from the heat. Sitting in the shade was of no help as the air was very warm and stifling. I could barely breathe. You had to move about to keep cool. Only Mrs. Sadist didn�t seem bothered by the heat. And the climb!....... Matt and Alesi soon appeared and plonked down in a heap next to us. But Mrs. Sadist was quick to move us off our butts to get going again. By then the speedometer had registered 29km. Good, only 15km or so to go.

Like a well-choreographed movie, the interesting section of the ride began after the torturous climb. It was mostly rolling, all hills rideable with the ruts, rocks and stones adding to the fun quotient. More importantly, we had shade. (A can of ice-cold coke would have been bliss.) A couple of fallen logs laid (purposely?) right across the trail provided the gung-ho ones with endo opportunities. Uncle Boh got itchy with one of them and was rewarded with some airtime and change of skin colour. We had so much fun, we didn�t even notice the many paw prints that everyone else saw until that fork with a shallow stream in the middle. Yeah man. Big prints, in all shapes and sizes, possibly those of a tapir, elephant or maybe even the King of Malaysian jungles, the tiger! Better not venture too far ahead of the pack.

Found our Pot
The sun must have gotten to us when five of us succumbed to Mrs. Sadist�s urging to carry on with the ride to the Rainbow Falls, the highlight of the trip. But we were still rational enough to vow to stick together, do it at a leisurely pace, not more than 20kph max. Not that this self-imposed speed limit was necessary during the first 3km of hell. I don�t know about the others, but I was managing an �impressive� 6 or 7! But three of the faster riders broke away from the group upon reaching the first descent, leaving James, Uncle Boh and I to smell their dust. Seems that vows are made to be broken.

Enough of heat and dust after some 9km of sheer torture, the 3 of us ventured off a single track to the river bank where a couple of guys were fishing, hoping that they could give us a ride out on their truck. But hard luck, they weren�t leaving anytime soon. So we pushed on until we reached those chalets where we took a break before turning back. Thankfully, the sun was clouded out by then and it even drizzled for a couple of minutes! Then a van overtook us and I could see Batman grinning from ear to ear inside! James found his second wind and broke away leaving Uncle Boh to be my sole outrider. But after a short while even Uncle Boh got tired of the pace. Soon I was pedaling alone, almost giving up when the track turned downwards for the next 3 km or so back to town. Yippee! Speedometer registered 64km. Chong, Danny and Matt got back by truck and they clocked much less! And with that, James, Uncle Boh and I declared ourselves rightful champions of the day for logging the highest mileage. Hip hip hooray! This.....is OUR pot of gold despite not making it to the Rainbow Falls.

About Sungai Lembing
About 48 km north-west of Kuantan is Sungai Lembing, an old mining town where one of the deepest lodes mines in the world was once active. Historical relics of European architecture can still be seen at every turn.

courtesy of Peter Choong

The MTB scene in India

2000-01-01T22:31:00.004+08:00

The Mountain Bike scene in India is promising, but currently it is not how it should be. India is a land with all types of terrains and riding opportunities for different riders, but sadly it has not excelled in the field of mountain biking as much as it should have been. The major bicycle manufacturers in India, are not keen on introducing 'properly equipped' mountain bikes for the Indian market. Thus the scene is not pretty at the moment.

The Mindset

The general mindset among the Indian people is that, once you graduated from, it is below one's dignity to ride a bicycle. Consequently a person wants to get an motorized vehicle to show rich he is. In some parts of India, riding a bicycle shows how poor a person is, as he cannot afford a motorized vehicle. Such mentality has to be changed. The people have to be made aware that riding a bicycle is not a thing what poor people do, but the pleasure that you get out of it that matters.What we at XS : Mtb Club are trying to do is to promote the sport, here in India, so that more people would know that a sport such as mountain biking exists in India, and can be done with ease.

Bike Shops

Bike Shops here only sell Indian-made bicycles. A few shops in the country stock imported brands, and that too are road bikes for road riding is much more popular here. The mountain bikes are the type of bikes that existed in USA or Europe in the early 90's. They are equipped with old Shimano Tourney-type gears with index-friction shifting levers. The suspensions are locally made with simple spring mechanism. A few good bikes have recently come out in the market, which offers full-suspension system. The concept of an aluminum mountain bike is still unknown here.

Riding opportunities
XS-Mtb Club is located in the city of Pune in the province of Maharashtra which is 150 km from Bombay. Pune is nestled in a valley and is surrounded by a hills and mountains. The terrain is part of the Sahyadri Mountain Range. There are amazing trails in Pune, which offer you everything from long XC rides to hair-raising descents. The whole province of Maharashtra has great places for all types of riders. But, North India is the place to ride, if you are planning to come to India on a mountain bike trip. One can ride in the Himalayan Range as well as places like 'Leh', 'Ladakh' and 'Himachal Pradesh' There are great trails which are considered to be some of the best in the world.

Organizations

Extreme Sports: Mountain Bike club is the only organization in India dedicated to promoting the sport of mountain biking. We have been riding from the past 8 years now and have enough expertise and experience to conduct mountain bike races and tours which we think are the best ways to promote mountain biking in India.

What we need is international support from American / European or other developed Asian countries to promote the sport of mountain biking in India. There is a huge market for mountain bikes in India, and once the sport catches on, there will be no looking back.

The above article was written by Sami Makki, President of the Extreme Sports: Mountain Bike and BMX India. He can be contacted at: B-36 Abhimanshri Society, Pashan Road,Pune - 411 008. Maharashtra. INDIA.Tel/Fax: +91-20-5671305 E-mail: mailto:xsindia@usa.net

A Lady With A Mission

2000-01-01T22:24:00.000+08:00

Suck It In And Spit It Out - Bukit Kiara Kuala Lumpur

If there were a bunch of the craziest and zaniest bikers that could ride on the face of this sorry earth, then the guys from PCC would have won it hands down.

We had this tryst with Kiara last week that tested our skill and patience to the near extreme. Something like a scene from On The Edge, a bunch of locos actually went down through some pretty steep drops astride their trustee mounts, the only thing separating their almonds and the top tube was a piece of flimsy padded lycra.

Hats off to the guys. Some of the drops were like Vertical Limit less the ice. If my bike could turn hysterical, it would have, without a doubt. Me? I'm just a sorry excuse for an XY chromosome and a piece of chicken meat in disguise as an off trail biker. But really, I am as guilty as sin in this department but give me a couple more thousand tries with a safety net like the one you see in the circus and I'll be Evil Knievel any which way you want me to, for a day for free ;-)

BRAIN FREEZE! I guess it must have been 50% psychological fear, which hit me real bad. Don't ask me where the other 50% come from coz I'm still recovering from my jet lag at Kiara. I bet it affected more of the other riders as well. It so numbed my legs that both of them were in danger of being amputated for frostbite. Previously coming from mountain climbing and �caving� backgrounds, I expected some kinda cheap thrills like the one you get from rollercoasters at the amusement parks but this was totally unprepared for. Just like Kuwait expected Saddam.

Of course Kiara had its own personal joys but this time we hit it real hard and it gave us no quarters in return. Too many ruts, embedded hazards, steep curves, extreme switchbacks, steep drop offs and you've got a lethal cocktail of a full Tequila bottle and no salt or lime and just plain fish dish. Hard riding to the end.

I bet some wanted to quit judging from the expressions but no pain no gain eh Paisan ? The previous ride we had at Pangsun was no less strenuous but definitely lacked the technicality of Kiara. Perhaps Kiara needed a lesson in humility, when the proper time comes. But till then I'll accord the Lady the proper respect it rightfully deserves. Through my somewhat insane theory, I'll let other riders go through Kiara until it softens up just like in caving where the reccee cavers go in and out until the cave floor actually opens up a bit to let the bigger cavers through. Incidentally, James did mention about the hole in the ground which we encountered early on which served as a jungle latrinefor emergency banking facilities. Cool dudes, coz it looked just like it was meant to be. In caving we have some passage ways which may just be a dead end chamber but serve The Purpose truly well in case of bowel overflow. Deja vu.

Obviously after the actual ride, is the time when you know you have completed it and while sipping that cool 100Plus, you could actually look back and be pretty smug about the whole shebang. I don�t know about the rest of the locos but MTB riding seems to me more than just stamina-ride-push-drop-speed-climb, it is also about self-discipline, self-control, perseverance and most importantly patience. This is where one realises one's own limitations and work at adapting, improving and changing oneself where necessary in order to reach a higher level of self. Self discovery seems apt for want of a better term. For me simply, having fun is the ultimate attainment.

So, do I chicken out of future rides with that bunch of certified locos?, This geek is gonna shout a positive yeah and pray he has adequate insurance .

As for sheer thrills, it doesn't get any better than this. Believe you me.

Now if only Leica made bikes ;-)

by Izzy aka LeicaNut

Reprinted with kind permission of Perfect Cycling Companion (PCC) Cycling Club