"It may not have been the highest mountain in
South-East Asia, but we readily saw, from the many foreign comments in the
visitors’ books, that Tahan was the mountain of them all. It was not
a mountain of developed tracks for Land Rovers to transport you up
but definitely the survival experience of a lifetime in this region.
In our minds, Tahan - the mountain of mountains in the land."
DAY 0: KUALA LUMPUR - KUALA TEMBELING - KUALA TAHAN
(Friday 20/3/87)
hy Tahan? someone might turn and ask. Why not Tahan? I
would retort back, with eyes flashing, inviting an answer which did not come. It
was the same enthusiasm that brought us together, on that ordinary Friday morning,
all smiles and happy thoughts at a corner shoplot along Jalan Ipoh (River Park Sdn.
Bhd.). Months of meticulous preparation and intensive training had enabled us to
board the Sri Jaya express bus that morning. Our motley crew consisted of Lew
Shiong Loon (expedition leader), Alan Choy Kiaw Meng (assistant leader), Goh Yet
Hun (secretary), Lau Kah Pew (treasurer), Lim Foh Lin (quartermaster), Mohd Ali
(cook), Cheong Pak Meng (assistant cook), Yap Boon Kah (first aider), Chin Yeow
Cheong (assistant first aider), yours truly (scribe and photographer), Soh Tak
Futt (technical consultant), Lee Chor Onn and Edward Chua (2 ex-Victorians).
There was a blur of movement and before long we were boarding a long motorboat
at Kuala Tembeling and Kuala Tahan’s Taman Negara H.Q. (formerly King George V
Park) was sighted at 4.50 p.m. We then made a beeline for the hostel after
checking our reservations with a pretty receptionist in the lounge. The rest
of the evening we spent wandering about and could not help but notice the
unnerving quiet in the air, there was no T.V., no radio, no loud pop music our
ears were so accustomed to, nothing ....argghh!! ...I couldn’t stand it!
Isolation would have been complete if not for the mobile Dancall telephone
and some rumpled NST newspapers in the main lobby. Later, dinner was served
in the hostel kitchenette followed by a final briefing of the following day’s
plans. We then called it a day.
DAY 1: KUALA TAHAN - KEM SUNGAI MELANTAI
(Saturday 21/3/87)
On leaving our extra supplies and money in the superintendent’s
office, we trudged off in a single file to a rendezvous with Seramah and Daun
(our guides) at the kampung orang asli and then the journey proper. The going
was quite easy with the odd hill or two on an otherwise flat terrain with minimal
undergrowth. Four hours and 18 km later, we made it to Kem Melantai. Tents were
quickly pitched and lunch was served. Happy hour then reigned supreme as all went
about having their own kind of fun (sleep, for some) while yours truly here was
content with a slight fever (drat!). Later that night, some went fishing and
caught two fair-sized ones. After a brief B.B.Q. on the embers of a campfire,
we lapped up all the swet and succulent pieces of fish before turning in, weary
but happy.
DAY 2: MELANTAI - KUALA PUTEH - KUALA TEKU
(Sunday 22/3/87)
The day started with hot milk and some mushy stuff they
called cereal for breakfast. It was already 9.00 a.m. when we broke camp. We
felt nauseous as we trekked across Banjaran Bukit Malang (Malang Range). A stop
was made at Kem Tengah for lunch and to replenish our water supplies from a
mountain spring. However, we did not stay long as swarms of sweat flies, wasps
and other winged oddities displayed their hostility. The rush out of the
campsite soon reduced to a slower pace as we hit rugged terrain. Note - the
Malang Range consists of a series of 27 hills with the coup de grace
being Gunung Rajah. After passing the final hurdle, we ran headlong down the
mountain side, the audibility of Sungai Puteh lending us encouragement. At
Kuala Puteh, we met some 25 Singaporeans on their way home and briefly exchanged
notes with them. Our ordeal then continued with seven river crossings to reach
Kuala Teku. Actually, we had a splashing time (at each other’s expense) as we
inched our way across the rivers, avoiding slippery rocks and rapids, aided by
stout staves. Unfortunately however, Pak Meng, weakened by a stomach upset,
tripped a number of times and bruised his toes badly, slowing down our progress
considerably. Anyway, it enabled Seramah to point out an edible plant on the
riverbank that calmed our abdominal upheavals somewhat. We were quite spent
when we finally made it to Kem Kuala Teku after ten hours of walking. So,
after dinner and a bath in the river, we were content to sleep in the open,
completely exhausted.
DAY 3: KUALA TEKU - WRAY’S CAMP
(Monday 23/3/87)
Morning saw us turning blue-green on two accounts: one
was Pak Meng’s toes, and the other, our faces, after downing another round
of Nestum cereal. Disaster followed quickly as Pak Meng succumbed to the
rigours of the steep continuous path and began vomitting. In his weakened
state, it was likely he would get worse should he continue, so Shiong Loon,
Alan and Tak Futt convinced him to turn back, with Daun as his guide. The
parting was painful but it was a mixed blessing as our ‘coven’ has been
reduced to a ‘dozen’ and it had to be a good sign for the rest of us. On
the contrary, at Wray’s Camp (formerly Camp Two) 1000 metres above sea level,
Mother Nature poured down a torrential blanket of rain as we clambered down
a 70 degree slope to fetch precious spring water. Our strength and spirits
were sapped but, as scouts, ever so resourceful, we dug into our bags and
brought out (ta-daa...) our chocolates! The sensation of soft rich chunks
melting in our mouths brought us back to our feet. "We had gone that
far and the end was nigh, so what me....worry? Nah....." An hour later,
two tents were pitched on the two granite humps (the outstanding feature of
Wray’s Camp) with a big campfire to dry our clothes. Dinner was superb that
night with rice, rendang, ikan bilis, coffee.... The thrill of being in high
country boosted our morale endlessly but sleep came early as we all knew
better than to fool around.
DAY 4: WRAY’S CAMP - PADANG CAMP
(Tuesday 24/3/87)
Morning broke with the promise of blue skies and mountains
high (four of them) and we marched onwards with renewed vigour after a good
night’s sleep. Gunung Pangkin was conquered in 50 minutes. A brief photo session
was held and occasionally a stray wisp of cloud would sweep across our path,
casting a mysterious and surreal look on our surroundings. Quite interesting
also was the change in vegetation, evident throughout the way. Skyscraping towers
of green with gigantic-sized trunks and buttress roots soon gave way to stunted
bushes with gnarled and twisted branches multi-coated with masses of moss and
lichen with spicy scents of wild flowers and mountain ginger plants which teased
our noses and made us stop often. We even collected some pine needles from
Gunung Reskit, crushed them and sniffed at the piquant aroma to further lift
our spirits. Feeling more adventurous by the minute, we then ate some orchid
plants. Horrifying thought? Not so! We did it after running out of water on
Gunung Tangga Lima Belas and some prompting from our cook. Note - bulbous
growth on orchid plant stores water. Its taste, generally bitter with a hint
of sweetness not unlike that of a rambutan past its prime. Finally, Gunung
Gedong was conquered after scaling a near vertical rockface with over-hanging
tree roots. Next, we took a few snapshots at the site of a Cessna plane crash
site (in the 1960s) and marvelled at the magnificent view of the ‘3D’ landscape
in lush shades of emerald green, before running down to the plateau, a huge
grassy area aptly named ‘Padang’. Here was the place which pamphlets described
as ‘the coldest place outside a refrigerator in West Malaysia’. Our stay at
Padang was grand. A bath in the mountain stream with icy cold water (some gave
lame excuses and opted otherwise) came first, and, for the next half hour,
there was heard loud splashing punctuated by hideous screams and howls. Suffice
to say, the water ritual was a memorable experience in itself. Later on, we
sat around a blazing campfire, marvelling at the immense star-studded sky above
our heads and conversed on weird, philosophical topics, about us being close to
God and all that. That night’s sleep we both loathed and relished, the former
because of the extreme coldness and the latter merely due to the thrill of
camping out in a place like that.
DAY 5: PADANG CAMP - GUNUNG TAHAN
(Wednesday 25/3/87)
The day of reckoning saw us rising early to witness a
spectacular sunrise. The rays of the morning sun seemed to burst forth from
the horizon and spread itself across the sky, dancing upon the peaks, forming
sillhouettes of the mountain ridges. In an instant, the morning mist dispersed
in all its glory, bringing renewed hope to our quest. Later, we packed our
scout uniforms, water rations and a bar of chocolate for the final ascent. I
still remember the sighs of disbelief when we saw the distance we had still
to cover before reaching the Tahan Range way yonder. The going was tough,
taking us through highland marshes nested in deep valleys, before slanting
upwards on a meandering, narrow path bordered by stunted trees and thick
undergrowth with tiny rivulets here and there. Beautiful pieces of transluscent
quartz crystals were common, if one’s eyes were sharp enough (Tahan is part
of a quartz ridge). Orchids wild and weird, side by side with equally exotic
varieties of pitcher plants (Nepenthes) was a joy to behold. A soft,
eerie twinkling sound (like the wind-bells we hang up on verandahs) all
around us set an enchanting mood to the scene. By and by, thorny plants
seemed to reach out for us and low-lying branches tended to go ‘bonk’ on
our heads along the path. Then, we came across a clearing with a view
breath-taking enough to spur us on. "Semangat...wooi!!!" someone
would shout at those moments, and on we marched, ever upwards. Finally, the
trigonometrical marker on the peak came into sight and was greeted with howls
of derision, long pent-up inside, at the exact moment when the school bell in
the V.I. would have rung for recess time on that Wednesday morning (after
2½ hours of trek). If not for my sore feet, I would have danced a jig
there and then. The thrill... for those few moments, we were the highest men
in Malaysia and no superlative could do justice to that feeling we had.
Great! Glad! Sad.....Wow!....all at once. Banners and flags were unfurled,
followed by a rendition of the Victoria Scout Group anthem, sung with such
spirit we amazed even ourselves. Over the past few weeks, the pitfalls in
our plans, hazardous enough in times of normality, have been steadily done
away with and with their exit, the mounting anticipation and excitement that
culminated in that... moment. Perhaps it’s true that the degree of hardships
we endured is proportional to the joy felt at the actual moment of conquest.
Or maybe it’s the warmth and camaraderie involved, rather than the disciplined
effort itself that destined us to experience such a grand finale to this
chapter of our lives. Anyway, we came, we saw and we conquered. And for
that, I salute...... the scouts!!
- Second To None -