Tag: MNS

And up the Endau we went.

One of the boats we got on.

Floating on the river was something I thoroughly enjoyed. I, as well as everybody else I think, was mesmerized by the jungle. The tranquility, only disturbed by the clumsy boat engine was something I had not experienced for a very long time. The last time I had such experience was at the Dungun River: an emergency evacuation.

Ignore the racketing motor noise and one would lose oneself to nature, free of limitations of the body. It was as if the soul was leaving the body, socked wet with bliss.

On the boat, looking downstream.

As we were moving upstream farther into the wilderness, I could not help but feel the water with my finger. It was sweetly cold, tempting me to jump off board. It was just too bad that the boat was roofed. While I had the wind gently swept across my face, it would have been better if it were roofless. It was a blue sky but the roof wanted me to savor it instead of the sky. What jealousy is this?

Trees grow happily all around us, protected from reckless development, possibly have outlived many of our ancestors. Possibly, will be outliving us and our children too. Through casual reading over the internet, I found out that the jungle complex is older than that of the Amazon and Congo with 200 over million years rock formation. I am not a geologist and so, I am easily impressed by such numbers.

On our boat were two Danish couples that reside in Kuching, Sarawak. One of them speaks Malay, just like Patricia expect that whenever she speaks Malay, she sounds like a ten year old girl. Her intonation was rather of cute, as with any ten year old girl. She also is quite well-versed with biological jargons that I just shrugged my shoulders whenever she asked me questions about the flora and fauna of Endau Rompin. And then, there were silver leaf (sp?) monkeys jumping merrily from tree to tree. Everybody was excited but I remained calmed, mostly because I was daydreaming.

The water pattern enticed me to daydream, reeling a rollicking me.

MNS does seem to have a lot of foreigners as its members. In fact, if the membership of MNS were to represent a country, I think that country would be Singapore instead of Malaysia. But perhaps, this proves that regardless of one’s background, there is only one environment. If it is lost, we all lose.

Talking about Sarawak, I have been to all Malaysian states except those on Borneo. I must someday set my feet on Borneon soil. That is a promise.

One mountain, or hill, looked like a pyramid. The peak was shaped as such and I thought it was noteworthy. I told Christian of what I thought and he replied, it would be great if we were to be at the top. Indeed.

Beyond the trees, a pyramid-shaped hill, or mountain.

Endau River is a winding river. I cannot remember how many curves the driver negotiated but that made the experience all the better. Sometimes, at one part or another, the current was so strong that it seemed the boat was not moving at all.

At the very end of the boat ride, there were rapids. I was kind of nervous upon seeing size of the rapids because I thought we were going through it. The rapids looked dangerous and I could not imagine how a boat such ours in could pass the rapids without disintegrating into pieces. Readying for the worst, I braced myself. But instead of roughing it out, we hit shore about 100 feet from the rapids. Silly me.

I wished we had stayed in the boat a little bit longer but we needed to get off and start hiking to the next rendezvous point, Kuala Jasin. We were the first boat to leave Kampung Peta and be done with the boat ride. So, we had honor spending the longest time at Kuala Jasin.

The walk to Kuala Jasin was not demanding at all. With the exception of a minor climb at the beginning, the trail is relatively flat and sandy. On both sides are soft trunk plants that look like cassava. Farther down the trail, the cassava-like trees give way to tropical trees like the highly precious merantis of various kinds.

Kuala Jasin is the meeting place of Endau and Jasin River. The rapids make the place a highly attractive place to be at. I myself would not have minded camping here for the night. The magnitude of water rushing through the rapids truly caught my attention as I had not seen anything like it in Malaysia; the rivers run wild.

Endau is joined by Jasin here.

The marvel of nature is inescapable to many and this probably is the reason why there are chalets at the river bank. Given the relative remoteness of the facility, sadly, the infrastructures are left in the state of disrepair, abandoned. The flood that occurred earlier has made the situation worse. An observation deck, which would have been marvelous if we could use it, has collapsed into the river. After the fact, I would rather not see any development here. An observation might be okay but 10 to 15 chalets, unused and abandoned at a remote location no less, are out of the question.

Gary, one of the de facto sweepers, got us back in line once the last of the boat had arrived. Some of us we reluctant to leave so, it took some effort to convince us to leave Kuala Jasin.

Soon, everybody gathered at a t-junction, with a direction lead us to the park HQ, another to Jening Barat, another to Upeh Guling as well as Tasik Biru and of course, the last one back to Kuala Jasin.

So much had been said about Upeh Guling and Tasik Biru, about the legend and stuff. Therefore, it is understandable why everyone was eager to start the hike. Quite contrary to what had happened at Kuala Jasin just moments ago.

Before we embarked for Upeh Guling, we had a roll call, just to be safe. Getting lost in Endau Rompin is not an experience anybody would want to go through. And then, finally, we started marching.

The first obstacle was the Jasin River. This perhaps several hundreds meters away from Kuala Jasin. It would have been shorter if we have stayed true to the river but the river route is too challenging.

It was groin-deep at the time we crossed Jasin while the current was not strong. Still, the rocky riverbed caused some difficulties to some. I almost fell into the river but by sheer skill (ha-ha), I stood firm. And my boots and socks turned wet all over again. At this point, I stopped caring about being dry.

This point is the last point accessible with 4WD. Not too long ago, a bridge was constructed across this river against the advice of the Orang Aslis. Human arrogance ignored the advice and the authority begun building the bridge. It was not long before nature humbled arrogant builders, forcing the abandonment of the project. Till this day, a notice board informing the public of the project still stands while a lone pillar seemingly dedicated to humility.

Expected to complete in February 2007, it has been abandoned. The major flood earlier this year wiped out whatever kind of bridge that was dreamed of by the local authority.

And so, we hiked, and hiked, and hiked some more.

About an hour or so, he had to cross yet another river. The name of the river is unknown to me but it was fiercer and deeper than that one path crossing Jasin. A strong rope was tied from one tree to another across the river to provide support.

Azmi, supervising the crossing.

All went well and the hike continued.

The next point of interest was Kuala Marong. This is a meeting place of two rivers: the one we just crossed and possibly, Marong River. Conservation wise, Kuala Marong is special but I will touch about it in later posting.

From there on, we needed to cross yet another river. While crossing, five or six butterflies, probably Raja Brooke were found frolicking by the bank. As expected, photographs swarmed the butterflies.

After that crossing, people were noticeably quiet. This is not surprising considering that at Kuala Marong, some already had wanted to have lunch. My stomach itself was growling but we pushed on instead, thinking of having lunch at Upeh Guling itself.

Upeh Guling is a large waterfall and from what I gathered from limited resources, I the most well-known of all fall in Endau Rompin. We knew that we were getting closer because the sound of gushing water was outdoing the sound of insects and birds combined.

A member of the expedition, Farah, relaxing at Upeh Guling.

With each step, anticipating grew and finally, Upeh Guling with all of its glory was visible. The size of the waterfall was only clear to me after as we climbed up higher. If one would fall into the fall, death could be guaranteed. The name of Upeh Guling itself is associated with death.

Years of erosion produces mind-boggling landscape.

An Orang Asli legend has it that long ago, a man by the name of Upeh was walking somewhere near this fall. While exchanging glances with his fiancé, he slipped, fell, rolled over and over again to his death. In Malay, guling means rollover. Hence, the name. The legend further says that whoever found the skeleton of Upeh, he or she would be full of luck. I for one am unsure how one would be lucky to find such ghastly remain.

It was a hot day and the water was cooling. Upeh Guling tempted us to take a dip but with strong current, Azmi prevented us from doing so, citing safety precaution. Nevertheless, we had our much needed rest. While I was getting ready for lunch, I discovered two leeches were already having me as their lunch. I pulled two fat leeches off my foot.

You creep.

While laying down on one of the rocks, I noticed dragonflies!

Possible, my best photo for the trip.

And more butterflies!

Oooo… donut. I mean, butterfly.

After lunch, I, as well as many others, took a cat nap before moving on to Tasik Biru. Transliteration would render Tasik Biru into Blue Lake. But as we would later find out, the word lake is an exaggeration and so too the word blue.

p/s — thanks to L** W** S**** for the permission to use the first picture (the boat) in this entry.

People say early bird gets the worm. Others would say the second mouse gets the cheese. Sunday started slightly earlier than Saturday and way too early. With sleeping bag warping around me and my backpack as a pillow, the coldness tempted me to stay asleep. It was 06:00.

A few others however were busy preparing for a new day and that made me restless. It was not so much the noise that disturbed me but rather, it was the atmosphere. It was infectious and caused a civil war inside of me. In the end, I had to wake up and left slumberland for a whole new day. Just like how the spring revolutions across Europe brought liberalism across the continent, from the British Isles, to France, to Germany all the way to Russia, and eventually, the world, the early birds brought consciousness throughout the camp.

As a group, I always find it amazing how a small minority could affect the will of the majority. I am quite sure that the majority will were quite the opposite of the now awakened minority. It was cold and the majority wanted to continue sleeping, despite knowing we had to start hiking by 08:00. Just like me, during winter in Ann Arbor, told the alarm to give me five more minutes before surrendering to reality, the majority probably wanted another hour.

If the low noise failed to move the sleepy heads, TH’s scream of pain woke me. He slept to my left and it was impossible to ignore him. I later found out that some insect went into his ear and started biting from the inside. Urgh, ugly. The problem was solved after a drop of oil was inserted into his ear, suffocating the insect. And if TH’s screaming failed to wake the rest, the sun did the job.

The morning turned brighter as each second passed. In the jungle, well before 07:00, one did not need to bring along a flashlight to move around. Unfortunately, the availability of light did not introduce heat and it was still cold for bath. Many skipped morning bath and relied on yesterday’s dip in the river as an ersatz substitute.

As how combustion engine needs time to come up to speed on a cold winter, my engine needed time and I took my time, had breakfast slowly, half asleep. By 08:00 though, I was ready for a brand new adventure. But my socks and boots were still wet. The socks especially, where bloody, no thanks to leeches. I had a fresh pair of socks with me but no dry pair of boots, I just wore the wet socks and boots.

On me were a Nikon cap, a stylish goggle as a sunglass that was the envy of everybody (yeah, right), a backpack filled with water bottle, camera, cell phone, wallet and lunch, West Quad t-shirt and an expensive short which would look like a rag cloth by the end of the trip. And yeah, the wet socks and boots.

If I had a dry pair of socks along with boots, it would not have mattered. To get to the place we planned to go which were Upeh Guling and Tasik Air Biru, we had to cross several rivers and the first one was right at the doorstep of our camp, the Limpako. And I could hear Christian complaining again, uttering, probably, the same exact words he had uttered yesterday during the hike night.

From the camp, headed back to our vehicle. For today, we needed to drive to Kampung Peta, an Orang Asli settlement by the Endau River. If you remembered carefully, our car was stuck in the mud and was, in all particle sense, abandoned for the purpose of this expedition. We were advised to rather not drive our car but take a ride instead in one of participating 4WDs. Patricia, Katrin and Christian got onto Paul’s truck and I hitched on *** ****’s 4WD.

Me and gang. From left, Mervyn Liew Wing-On, Yeoh Suat Hui, me and Tan Lee Sah. *** ***** is behind the camera. Awas gerak langkahmu ooooo…

There were five people in the vehicle, including *** ***** and me. The other there were Mervyn Liew Wing-On, Yeoh Suat Hui and Tan Lee Sah. On *** *****’s vehicle were several stickers: three of them were MNS, the Sierra Club and the Appalachian Moutain Club. That probably proved that he is a real hiker, unlike me, which is just a poser.

There were slight problem at the start as even 4WDs had issues with the muddy road but with little patience, luck and cooperation, all 4WDs, seven of them, were on our way to Kampung Peta.

Typical road view. This part of the park is tarred. The poor road leading to the park probably discourages visitors size, which is good for conservation effort.

The way to Kampung Peta is scenic. Firstly, the road is pretty much like Cameron Highlands except on a smaller scale, with little gorges on one side and little hills covered with tropical floras on the other side. Our view was limited to what the trees would let us see, which was not much to start with. But as we were done climbing, we reached an opening where the trees were less dense and soon, the opening turned into an Orang Aslis’ orchard. To the right, on the horizon were spectacular mist-covered mountains.

Misty mountains. Not quite Lord of the Rings but quite impressive nonetheless.

All of us, all seven 4WDs stopped by the road side, armed with cameras, got out and started a photo-galore event. On the left, a little hut by the side of a hill. It took some time to satisfy the photographers in us but we had to move on. And so, into the vehicles we went to continue with the journey.

Humble hut by the side of a hill.

Not too far in front, sat a couple of puppies in the middle of the road, unmoved by the incoming 4WDs. We were amused at the audacity shown by the puppies and had to slow down to pass them without incident.

Half an hour probably passed before we reached Kampung Peta. Just 5 minutes of the village is the headquarters of the national park. The HQ however looked suspiciously quiet with no proof of life. Nevertheless, looking outside from the 4WD I was in, the structures looked well maintained, possibly, unlike in Putrajaya.

As a Malaysian, it is quite embarrassing to see defected federal buildings so early after completion. The physical states of the buildings could signal the rot of our country. Daylight corruption goes unpunished, uncouth lies said and spotted but not unsaid, probably representative of our government.

As the 50th anniversary of August 31, the first day of free Malaya, comes closer, I am quickly becoming disillusioned with the current state we are in. I could have picked that Green Card long ago but for some unknown reason, I refrained. I am beginning to feel I had made a mistake so huge. True, I said take heart but I cannot take heart every second of every day of every year, forever. Patience is a virtue but it has limits. Hope erodes each day and I quickly wanting to save only myself and abandon the rest.

The residents of Kampung Peta probably have not heard of 300 despite living in a spartan village. But they live in concrete instead of wooden houses as I had expected earlier. Their life is more modern than what I had in mind. Yet, still spartan with limited utilities. Nonetheless, Spartans dined in hell but we dined in heaven.

The village sits beside the Endau River, about 30 feet up from the water level, on a cliff. To be precise, it is located at the outer side of a huge meander. For this very reason, the village suffers erosion problem. In 10 or 20 years, I would not be surprise if the river would shallow part of the village. Slowly but surely, the Endau River keeps pounding against the cliff, threatening to erase the village out of the map. But maybe, this particular part of the river would turn into a horseshoe first and not threaten the village.

The Endau River from Kampung Peta. Notice the cliff. Also, notice the white trunk which is a coconut tree. Previously, a sort of line could be drawn from the tree to the other side outside of the picture and that was ground years ago. In effect, you would not be able to see the upper part of the cliff.

During the last great flood, believe it or not, despite sitting high above a cliff, the village was flooded about half a foot. The Orang Aslis had to temporarily away until the flood finally subsided. While all that occurred, our Prime Minister was on holidays in Venezuela, seemingly oblivious to the suffering of the people. Even I, whom have been accused of being too cold due to my free market principles, understand the scale of the disaster. In the face of possibly market failure, the government failed. The government does have a role in our society but the government failure during the market failure forced me to reassess what role the Malaysian government could play.

During a briefing conducted at the HQ of the Malaysian Nature Society at Jalan Kelantan, not too far away from the National Museum and the Parliament, Gary told us how the flood devastated the economy of Kampung Peta. They lost everything and are currently rebuilding whatever they had. Their economy primarily depends on tourism but Endau Rompin, due to its wilderness, does not look like a place many would venture too. Only the more adventurous individuals would come here, leaving the comfort of civilization behind.

From the village, we got on a boat ride upstream, farther into Endau Rompin…

p/s — thanks to *** *** ***** for the permission to use the first two pictures in the entry.

If the first three legs we were “on road”, for the fourth and final leg, we went off road. We needed to drive from the main road to somewhere deep uphill and from there on, hike downhill and cross a river called Limpahko. Or Limpako. I am uncertain of the spelling as I do not have a proper and detailed map of Endau Rompin with me at the moment. Nevertheless, that was roughly how it sounded when somebody spoke of the name of the place.

The road condition was so bad that even some 4WDs could not go through the road without help. For those that drove cars, including my ride, I would leave it to your imagination. After awhile of trying, we finally gave up and almost everyone parked their vehicle at the side of the road, leaving it behind and started hiking, with backpacks on our back. Only a pickup truck — Paul’s truck — went all the way up.

The hike was not too bad and not too far. I reckon it was probably a two or three kilometers hike though the terrain provided some challenge.

Two Orang Aslis — all visiting groups into Endau Rompin must hire at least a guide — guided us to our base camp. Maybe base camp inaccurately describes what we had but I am content with the noun. So, base camp it is. The two guides went into separate ways somewhere. One went into the river, cross it and went upstream while the other went along on the river without crossing it. I were confused and this posed a dilemma for me. Firstly, I did not know which way was the right route. I certainly do not want to lose my way on the very first day of the expedition. But I had no choice and it all up to my preference, and lunch.

The route into the river was not preferred due to one reason: water. Being wet is a terrible thing and so, I would like to be as dry as possible. The other route on the other hand required climbing. While I did not think of it while deciding on which route to take, the dry route was leech-rich. Unable to decide, I depended on wisdom of the crowd. More than 10 individuals went into the river and so, I followed them, like a lemming.

The river route was a bit worrying actually mostly because I had electronics on me — a camera and cell phone. Having them wet would ruin all the fun I would have had there.

Talking about electronics, I had planned to bring along my laptop. I was thinking, in the middle of the night with minimal light source, life might turned out really boring. Somehow at the very last minute, I ditched the idea and I am glad I did that.

Back to nature, the river was pleasantly cooling. I was whining quietly on how bad it was to be wet at first. Wet boots made my feet heavier than usual for the obvious reason. With a backpack on my back, the hiking was not made any easier. Moments passed and only later that I began to appreciate the cooling effect of the river. For more than half of the journey, we traveled under the angry sun. It burned so mightily that it was noticeable how little activities were carried out under the open sky.

The river sheltered us from the heat. My feet immediately felt the soft touch of the river. With rainforest on each sides of the river, the atmosphere was completely, to me, if I may say so, heaven-like. This is heaven, I told myself. No 72 virgins for me please for this would suffice, I yelled in my head.

The river was not wide. Throughout the hike, the widest part of the river probably measured around 10 meters. The deepest part was a little over waist deep. I had to clear my pockets of electronics in order to cross the river without regrets.

Cool and clear river water. To the right is the base camp.

It turned out, the group that took the river route reached the based camp earlier. Apparently, it is the easiest and the shortest route. Nevertheless, we were separated by mere 10 to 15 minutes. Really, nothing to shout about. But we were leech-free, unlike the other groups which presented the leeches of Limpako a feast to remember.

The base camp was beyond my expectation. Before we were briefed by group leader a week prior to the expedition, I had thought that we would have to sleep in tents and move around with the tents with no base camp. Quite the contrary, we had a makeshift barrack or long house made out of wood. Some had the pleasure of sleeping in hammocks or maybe trampoline, hanging in the air while others like me, slept on the floor which was made of tree bark.

Yes. Tree bark. I had never considered that tree bark could be used for flooring. Regardless, it was not comfortable but was definitely better than sleeping on the ground while the experience and the new knowledge made me, and I believe many other, wiser in term of survival skill. For a person that wanted to bring a laptop into an ancient jungle growth, you could imagine what kind of survival skill I have!

All in all, the accommodation was luxurious by my expectation standard whereas the expectation is admittedly slow. I for one did not expect a washroom, no matter primitive it was.

The best thing about the base camp is the Limpako waterfall. Before that, I apologize for I am using the name Limpako rather liberally. I am unsure if Limpako refers to the river or the waterfall in particular. Whatever it may be, the falls are made up of a number of cascades. From the camp, three cascades were visible.

The Limpako Falls with impressive cascades. If one is to climb up, one would see more cascades. Anyway, from the left, clockwise, Paul, Andy, TH and Patricia. The rest jumped in soon after.

On the first day at Limpako, in the day at least, activities were limited. With everybody exhausted, it was good. Exhaustion however did not prevent many from dipping in the water at the lower end of the cascade. The water was gentle, clean and clear. Everybody was visibly happy, smiling and talking, making new friends and strengthening old bonds.

I spent considerable amount of time in the water, letting the falls massaged my back, feet immersed in water, feeling the smooth stones of the riverbed. If the sun had stayed up in the sky forever, I would not get out of the water. Alas, the sun always set in the west and so it did on that Saturday.

Dinner was modest but the fact it was cooked by the Orang Aslis made it a little bit special. But to come to think of it, the food was probably comparable to that was served at the Malay College long ago when I was there. Here in Endau Rompin, Kuala Kangsar seemed to far away. On the same weekend, the alumni of the College gathered at Kuala Kangsar, celebrating the annual Old Boys’ Weekends. I have only been to the Weekends once after I graduated from the College. But this is Endau Rompin, not Kuala Kangsar. And clearly, not Kuala Lumpur but Kuala Marong and Kuala Jasin, as I will soon tell you later.

Later in the evening under the bright moon, we had a night hike. I did not wanted to join it initially because I was tired, sleepy and my boots and pant were wet. The night hike would require me to cross the river all over again and I had wanted to give my stuff a chance to dry up for the next day. So, I found myself giving comment at general, questioning what would we do when we would not be able to see anything. W** S**** answered me, saying it is a chance to talk to people. I smiled.

Armed with two flashlights — one worn in the head and the other a typical rod-looking flashlight — I joined W** S****, as well as Katrin, Christian, our medic Dayang and a number of others into the wilderness.

We set out of camp by crossing the river, leaving the falls behind, ascending to higher ground, led by an Orang Asli guide. If I remember correctly, his name is Azmi. Gary and TH, the leaders of the expedition were there to make things a little bit smoother. Digressing a bit, I know Gary from Raptor Watch while TH is someone new. New but fun, just like Gary! They might be twins for all I care! They never went anyway without one another!

It was dark in the night in spite of the near full moon. The trees conspired to make sure that we would have trouble navigating through the jungle without flashlight.

For those the followed the other route to the camp earlier, they recognized the trail. For me, I did not.

After a while on dry left, we ventured into the river. Christian said something to the effect of “just when you think you would be dry, here we go straight into the water all over again“. Throughout the expedition, I got that feeling for so many times that I lost count.

Once we got into the river, I immediately recognized it. I took this trail to get to camp earlier in the day.

We traveled light but I still wished it ended soon. It was that feeling all over again. That “are we there yet” feeling. That feeling reminded me of that misadventure I was in at Yosemite. Boy…

By the time we got back to camp, I realized that leeches were all over my legs and body. My pant was full of blood. I have been bitten by leeches before but this time, the quantity was just ridiculous. Worried, I went to somewhere quiet and stripped for a thorough check of my body. I was just thankful that none was found in my private part!

For the rest after that, they just laughed at me while enjoying supper. What more could I do but laughed together with them?

All the excitement set up the perfect state for a good night sleep, lulled by the songs of nature. The insects, the waterfall, the serenity…

p/s — special thanks to L** W** S**** for allowing me to post his wonderful pictures here at this blog.

Hiking among a company of good people is unbelievably fun. I have almost forgotten how it felt after these kinds of activities became absence in my life while I engrossed myself in work, building a career which is fueled more by greed rather than passion. My last real hiking trip and in fact my first, was on the other side of the planet, at the foot of the Sierra Nevada, within one of the crown jewels of the United States national park network, Yosemite. So beautiful the wilderness there that after all the suffering and pain, it energized me for a new semester, a new determination to undo all the problems I had foolishly created for myself. After graduation at Michigan, my confidence markedly subsided as I lost the environment that nurtured me to fight on in the face of seemingly impossible odd. I only started to realize how low I felt one day in my office, doing mediocre tasks that did not inspire. I needed an inspiration and I remembered how the Yosemite Valley, the Half Dome, El Capitan, Hetch Hetchy, Tuolumne Canyon, Tuolumne Meadows, White Wolf, Merced, Waterwheel and Glen Aulin among others inspired me to be larger than myself, to achieve the impossible and open up a window of endless possibilities. I needed that injection of energy and I found it in the wilderness of Endau Rompin in Johor.

I joined the Malaysian Nature Society partly because I felt I needed an association to be with, just as when I was in the United States. I wanted to do something good, something, some venue to contribute through. The first event was the Big Green Bash in Kuala Lumpur. It was okay but given I was new, I had not known too many individuals. Apart from watching the An Inconvenient Truth and a few other documentaries, I observed the society quietly, thinking if joining was the right thing to do. Being unable to decide there and then, I volunteered for Raptor Watch at Tanjung Tuan, Malacca and that convinced me that I made the right choice. So excited was I upon such realization that immediately after I reached home from Malacca, I logon the internet and registered for an expedition with the society to Endau Rompin National Park. That was back in late March.

Day in and day out, all I could think of was Endau Rompin, imagining new experiences in the wilderness with endangered species roaming the area freely. When the day became progressively closer, I was getting noticeably excited. In the week before the trip, I shopped for the necessary equipments. I needed not purchase for too many stuff however as I had them since my stay by the Dungun River, helping out to save the endangered river terrapin. Or even, from the Yosemite trip! Several articles that were with me at the top of the world were my cargo pant though it has been badly battered throughout the years, my trusty boots, my goggle and backpack.

Saturday April 28, the departure day, started far too early. I and three other persons agreed to carpool from Kuala Lumpur to the national park and we were to meet up at Wangsa Maju by 06:45. By train, it usually takes me 30 minutes to get from my place to the meeting point and so, I had to wake up before 6 o’clock. While I dragged my feet off my bed, I made it on the dot and we left for a new adventure well before 07:00 into the wilderness in a Mercedes. Riding a Mercedes would prove to be minor but fun folly later in the mud of Endau Rompin.

By coincidence or design, Patricia, the driver that drove me to Tanjung Tuan for Raptor Watch was my driver of the day. She volunteered for the terrapin conservation project by the Dungun River with me too earlier last year. So, I know her. Two other passengers were German-speaking Malaysian siblings, Katrin and Christian. Yes, two Malaysians with German as mother-tongue. At one point or another, I cannot help but be amazed at the multicultural state inside the car.

The journey to Endau Rompin started out under cloudy sky. It rained earlier in the morning while most folks in the city were sleeping. The streets were soaking wet. The rain made waking up a chore.

Patricia is an adventurous old lady with a young heart. She is perhaps well in her 60s or maybe 70s but she travels extensively. She has hiked through Europe, the ancient growth of Belum-Temengor, Bali, Borneo, here, there and everywhere. In fact, she has just got back from a trip to Melbourne all alone by herself.

Despite being a wonderwoman, she told me that she had doubt about embarking on this trip. She lamented why would an old woman doing all this sort of things when she should be in bed, resting.

I understand her completely. While I am still young, I too had that uneasy feeling of going out of security and exposing myself to uncertainty. Furthermore, waking up in the wee hours is certainly not my cup of tea. Yet, a monotonic life does not produce anything memorable. Living the same day over and over again could drive me to insanity and I would not want to be a raving mad man. I need change. While changes are unpredictable, I certainly welcomed the break from routine. We only live once and I want to make my life as memorable as possible before it is too late, when I would be bedridden, unable to move and enjoy the sugar of life. I am sure Patricia was thinking of the same thing.

The first leg of the journey was uneventful, with cities passing us by. Soon, the typical landscape of oil palm and rubber trees were common. By the time we got to Seremban, we found ourselves listening to Aborigine songs that almost sent me to slumberland.

When I first returned to Malaysia not too long ago, I noticed that the highway was being widened, from Kuala Kangsar to Johor Bahru. One more lane is being added to each direction, increasing the capacity of the highway.

If the Titiwangsa Mountains is the geographic backbone of the Malay Peninsula, then the North-South Highway is the economic backbone of Peninsular Malaysia. This network of highway no doubt fueled the Malaysian economy, aiding the country blazing through the 1990s. The Mahathir administration has its flaws but it also has invaluable contributions to the country and the highway system is one of them.

Yet, I cannot help but cringe at signboards at the side that declare the widening of the highway as another project by the Barisan Nasional government. Clearly, the incumbent is misusing power to create an illusion that the state and the political party in power are one while as it should be, there are of two different entities. The funding for such projects come from everybody, be it from the supporters of the incumbent or the opposition. Everybody pays tax. From the look of it, that fact is lost, on purpose or else, upon the incumbent. This says a lot on our maturity as a democratic society.

While the widening project is almost done, lines of orange cones signal that the lanes are not opened yet. Dummies standing by the road, complete with construction wares with moving arm flying red flags, adds touch of humor to the engineering exercise.

The route from KL to Seremban and Malacca was dull because in many ways, it is the most developed area in Malaysia. On top of that, almost every year, I would follow this path back to Malacca, visiting my grandmother in Alor Gajah.

The Johorean half of the highway was dull as well due to the lack of geographical features. The flatness of Johor is both a boon and a bane to the local population. On one hand, it is a suitable for agricultural activities. The famed pineapples of Johor prove the state’s position as a major agricultural player in the country. On the other hand, the recent flooding shows how vulnerable Johor is to natural disaster.

After about 200 or 300 km later, it was the end the first part of the journey. By around this time, the sky was blue, bright and clear.

The second leg of the journey started at Ayer Hitam, Johor. We got off the highway and headed for Kahang, the last town with gas station before Endau Rompin National Park. The road to Kahang has too many curves, “seperti ular kena palu“. This is remarkably different from roads leading southward to the city of Johor Bahru. The roads that I had traversed in Johor previously were always straight. Through that knowledge, I formed a broad generalization that most roads in Johor are straight. The road to Kahang undoes that perception.

The zig-zagging passes through a few town and the only town we passed that worth mentioning is Kluang.

Kluang, to use Patricia’s word, is a quaint town. It is old, little and slow. Old architecture that belongs to the 1960s or earlier could be seen without much effort here. I wish I had spent time at Kluang town with my camera. I feel a day stay or two there would be worthwhile. But we rode on. We had a little under 100 km to go to Kahang through a stretch of road that could cause motion sickness under the ever bright merciless tropical Malaysian sun. We would not want to be late.

At one point, we went through Sembrong. A signboard with a poster of Hishammuddin Hussein, the current Malaysian education minister greeted us as we entered the area. Now I know which area the minister represents. Apart from farms and construction of what looks like a warehouse, Sembrong, at least along the road, does not offer anything interesting. So, we rode on again.

Sooner or later, the second leg had to end and it did. We reached Kahang at about 11:00 and were the first to be there among members of the expedition. We were advised that we should leave Kuala Lumpur by 07:00 and reach Kahang by 11:00. By noon according to the expedition leaders, everybody should be at Kahang by noon and at 13:00, off to the wilderness.

Being first was not fun. The town of Kahang is so dead, with wooden rows of shophouses occasionally pops out here and there. The fact that most shops were closed gave me the impression that the town, or perhaps more suitably, the settlement is godforsaken. There was almost absolutely nothing to do there. I wonder how a youth would grow up here, deprived all the modern sins. I wish we were late.

We were also told that the team should meet at the only gas station in Kahang which is located on the other side of the town. It did not take long to get on the other side of the town once we entered the town.

The Shell gas station at Kahang.

Patricia pumped up gas into the Mercedes, full tank. Once that was done, we went on a hunt for lunch. One Malay shop was opened and the shop had limited choice. Really, no choice at all.

After lunch, we waited for some time before a 4WD with an unmistakable tapir sticker that forms the logo of the Malaysian Nature Society came within our view. I was excited and quickly waved to the incoming vehicle. And then, there were eight of us.

It took a while before a total 11 vehicles, nearly 40 members gathered at the gas station. While waiting, we introduced ourselves to each other, pushing the word strangers out of our vocabulary.

At 13:00, we were off in a convoy. Each vehicle had a number on it, from one to eleven so that we could track each other and not lose our way. For about 10 to 15 minutes, we veered off the tarmac road onto typical unpaved red earth plantation road. If we had stayed true to the paved road, we would have gone straight to the coastal town of Mersing in the east, facing the South China Sea, no more than 150 km away.

Only a bumpy and dusty unpaved road cutting through vast sea of oil palm trees links Endau Rompin with the Kahang-Mersing road; this is the easiest route into Endau Rompin. The oil palm trees on both sides of the road were covered with red dust, a sign that this stretch of road is heavily used. It seems though that it is used mostly by local working on the estate and the Orang Aslis while the presence of outsiders is limited.

Sea of oil palm trees as far as the eye can see.

The distance between the boundary of the national park and the entrance of the plantation is about 45km. In between, oil palm dominates the scene, with intermittent reign of banana and rubber trees. While just 45 km in distance, the potholes and mud made the third leg seemed to last for eternity. It took us probably two hours to get done with it. With the sun up high in the sky, I swear that I suffered from sunburn just by sitting in the car. The only thing that comforted me was the air conditioner of a Mercedes Benz, a Malay speaking Brit and two German speaking siblings!

On the way forward, we noticed a bird hovering a few meters from the ground. I am unsure what kind of bird it was for I am no birder, not even qualified to wear the title amateur. Still, its behavior attracted our attention. As a matter of fact, it seemed like it was trying hard to attract our attention. According to Patricia of whom is a birding enthusiast, the bird might have a nest somewhere and it might think that we were trying to invade its home. Hence, the diversion. We slowed down, amused but moved away onward to Endau Rompin, which no intention whatsoever to transgress its nest.

A few moments later, we come up a hill and I saw a small settlement of planters. More impressively, far on the horizon, the border of the national park was visible. Rows of oil palm trees stop at the border and tropical jungle forms seemingly impenetrable green wall. But such wall is never impenetrable. We humans have moved mountains at our wimp. Trees pose little problem to us, if we want to remove it, especially if the destructive lumberjacks have the opportunity to pouch on nature.

I welcomed the change of scenery, from oil palm to tropical rainforest. A small sign greeted us, confirming that we were indeed in the national park. The greeting however was a bit confusing because there were logging going on.

There but not there yet.

But we were not there to campaign against jungle destruction but to appreciate what still left before it is gone for good to quench our unquenchable greed. The fight against deforestation is for another day, along, together with heavy calvary. We were mere scouts today.

We crossed several wooden bridges that might tumble down the river each time we passed it. The road after that changes direction from left to right and left again, up and down with tree canopy providing shades over the road, making the atmosphere surreal. If the road to Cameron Highlands is eye-pleasing, the route through Endau Rompin is as great but wilder, less traveled, less sign of civilization. The sense of being isolated so profoundly prevailed here and that feeling is priceless. No phone, no internet, no nothing. Nobody could contact me and ask me for report, papers, information or other dull matters.

End of third leg.

Finally, the third leg ended and the final leg to base camp began. Of all legs, the fourth one was the most difficult, relatively. It was so difficult that I think I will write about it at another time soon.

On 4WD, some readers might be familiar with my opposition to SUV and, seeing SUVs in an expedition such as this might prove me as a hypocrite. I violently beg to differ. I oppose usage of SUVs in places where other mean of efficient transportation is available, e.g. inside a city for instance. In a jungle such as Endau Rompin, hard to imagine how a car could be as efficient as an SUV bulldozing through the mud. Environmentalism after all is not about not consuming. Rather, environmentalism is about consuming efficiently.

p/s — there is an article that you might interested. The author describes his experience in Endau Rompin:

It was the dwindling numbers of rhinoceros that spurred the 1985/86 research by the Malaysian Nature Society that ultimately led to the park’s creation. Ironically, it was a road that allowed them to do it by providing access to publicly funded volunteers who documented hundreds of unique species of plants and animals. It was a daunting task. Fashioned by volcanic eruptions 150 million years ago, Endau-Rompin’s terrain alternates between steep mountains and sandy plateaus, a factor which has thus far spared it from developers, but which made the conservationists first forays into the forests that more problematical. The park is divided into three zones on the recommendation of the MNS: an area for tourists and trekkers offering basic A-frame huts, campsites and marked trails; an area for researchers and park rangers that is to remain undeveloped; and a retreat for the reclusive rhinoceroses encompassing over half the entire park’s area. In high isolated ridges, days of walking distance from permitted paths, are where the rhinoceroses roam, estimated at the time of the MNS study to number—sadly-between five and twenty. It is unconfirmed but believed that the rhinoceros count has not increased. [Beyond Trees: Malaysia’s Endau-Rompin National Park. Leslie Nevison.]

After leeches, crossing several rivers, hiking up a hill, sleeping on tree bark, listening to the songs of Orang Asli, sunbathing in the jungle by a blue pond, bathing under a full moon, hiking up five cascades of waterfall, a number of stunning photographs, losing my cap, watching hornbills flying in the sky, a hovering bird, cute puppies, stuck in mud, having garlic bread by the river, a boat ride up and down the Endau River, in a life jacket, floating down the Endau River, bitten by endangered fishes and among many others, in the company of friends, from the UK, to Denmark, to Malaysia and Singapore, I am back in Kuala Lumpur, a world of worries.

Still, in my mind, till the day I die, I will remember many things there, including this one hut:

When I sleep tonight, I hope to dream laying on my back by the Endau River, under a clear sky and a full moon with water gushing madly and gently down a grand cascade of waterfalls just a stone’s throw away, lulled by nature’s song.

Sigh…