It takes 12 to tango across north Sabah

As appeared in Focus
The Brunei Times - April 3, 2008

DIPPING and swaying, though to no discernible tune, 12 four-wheel-drive Toyotas are inching their way across a particularly rough section of road. "Road" is a generous word to describe this bit of track in Sabah once paved with asphalt but recently ravaged by a landslide. Falling mud had probably taken the top layer of tarmac, and the constant traffic, including timber- and produce-laden lorries, have worn deep grooves in the gravel-covered soil. The result is a wild, bucking ride in the mountains between Keningau and Ranau, something no one really expected as they set out from Tutong, Brunei, that morning.















The expedition -- organised by the Gemilang Association and sponsored by NBT -- is a test of endurance of driver and car, I am told. OK, I think to myself, that means it's a long but generally uninteresting journey, punctuated by endless waiting at each border crossing from Brunei to Sarawak, back into Brunei, again into Sarawak and finally into Sabah. Not to mention the two ferry crossings, plus the fact that it is the school holidays. I'm not driving anyway, nor navigating; so I'll just sit in the back of this Toyota Hilux next to the mound of luggage that can't be placed in the pickup bed in case of rain.

We are car T3, third in the convoy of 12, my pilot a military man and his second-in-command the official expedition photographer. As soon as we hit the Sabah hinterlands, though, my quiet reveries are taken over by trying to anticipate the dip and roll of the car and hanging on to the grab handle for dear life.

Tango Partners
The four-day trip beginning on March 21 started out pretty well, really, being flagged off by the acting Tutong district officer at 8am and picking up a Limau Manis police escort to Kuala Lurah for group passport stamping.

The joint aim of fulfilling Gemilang Association's three core interests of 4x4 driving, amateur radio and photography began immediately -- we were rolling along, snapping pictures and trading banter on the radio.

I learnt that the cars were labelled T1 to T12 for Toyota, and T in radio lingo is Tango. We were Tango Three, then, one of four Toyota Hilux pickup trucks accompanying six Land Cruisers, a Prado and a Fortuner, our Tango partners.

The papers were dealt with reasonably quickly at each of the border posts, thanks to our "Immigration officer" who went ahead to clear the documentation needs. And the wait for the ferries weren't as long as we had feared. We made it in good time to Limbang, crossing into Sabah at about 1.30pm with delays only due to some road works.

Hills and Valleys
Onwards we went, led by Gemilang 4x4 chairman Abd Ashunah DLR Hj Md Jair in Tango One, taking the turn just before the town of Sipitang towards the mountains, and the former logging trails that connect the small towns serving the once-thriving industry, towards Sandakan, our destination for the first day.

These roads were paved to provide access to residents now needing a livelihood other than logging, as the jungles are cleared beyond sustainability, but there's no holding back mother nature when she's mad. There were too many instances to count where half the road had fallen into the gully, warning cones and yellow tape the only things keeping more than pebbles from following it over the edge.

It was rough and slow going, and we made it into Keningau, a former logging town quietly going to ruin, by about 4pm.

Fallen Comrade
The Tangos were doing well, aside from a broken radiator hose of Tango 11, the oldest car in the convoy, which had been dealt with before we left Limbang. We were on a roll, so we thought. Then between Keningau and Ranau, which reached an elevation of some 1,000m, the roads spilled up more of its guts, and as the sun quickly set beyond the mountains, we were at times reduced to a crawl hills on one side, ravines on the other, and darkness broken only by headlights.

Then the huge ruts in the road. And Tango 11 broke, first running out of clutch oil, then suffering broken absorbers. We had lost a Tango partner as T11's owner, Ya'akub Hj Kifli, decided the car could not venture further and would stop in Ranau for repairs.

The remaining Toyotas were a bit subdued as we left Ranau for Sandakan, wondering if one of the selling point of Toyotas -- easily available parts -- would prove the magic bullet that would bring Tango 11 back into the fold. We reached Sandakan at 1.30am after 17 hours on the road. We had proven our endurance so far, marking up some 1,000 kilometres, but we had three days to go, and Kudat and Kota Kinabalu to reach.

March 22 dawned bright, and as we left Sandakan, with a short stop at the Orangutan Rehabilitation Centre in Sepilok, our radio banter resumed the cheer with which we started our journey, interspersed with concern for Tango 11. They needed spare parts from Kota Kinabalu, and would not be taking their place in the convoy to Kudat.

Tip of Borneo
The roads were slightly better along the more civilised areas into Kundasang, aside from the mist and rain as we drove in the shadow of Mount Kinabalu, and on towards Kota Belud and Kudat. Reaching Sabah's northern-most town at about 8pm, we were heartened by the news that Tango 11 had recovered, and was winging its way to rejoin the convoy.

It gave most of the participants cause for joy, more than the delicious seafood which we found by the seafront, and by midnight, the old Land Cruiser with a heart that never wants to give up, had reached the northern shores.

The next morning the group's avid shutterbugs took to the roads before dawn to catch the sunrise at the Tip of Borneo, a breathtaking display of colours as the sun slowly peeked over the horizon. From the inky black night came the dark violet hues, which lightened into purples and blues, brightening into pinks and oranges that you'd never really be able to capture in paints or oils.

It was an amazing moment if you think of the aeons of time that has passed from the dawn of all sunrises, to that moment we stood there, in the glory of a new day, the rays of golden sunlight washing over us.

Some felt that way, but some, like my Tango Three pilot, was itching at the bit to be able to catch the breeze under his glider, a paramotor at his back, lifting off into the blue of the sky to fly around the Tip of Borneo. He will, he kept saying, as the call of the land at the tip of this island he calls home is too strong to ignore. That was for another day, but it was a promise.

Later that morning the whole convoy, Tango 11 included, drove to the Tip for a photo op of course, it was too good to miss before setting off for the final leg of the journey to Kota Kinabalu, the state capital.

Too Soon it Ends
All was well in the third day's journey, reaching Kota Kinabalu before 3pm, time enough for rest before dinner at a seafood restaurant with a VIP guest, Tengku Datuk Zainal Adlin, the chairman of Sabah Tourism.

The fourth day, however, was almost heartbreaking, as the participants dropped by a shelter for children who are abandoned or under protective custody, for a visit and to offer a donation, before dancing their last steps of the expedition.

It's too soon to end, some kept saying. I wish we were not going back just yet, others opined. But it was the last tango, all 12 cars making it safely back across the final border into Brunei just before the cut-off time of 10pm.

Though most had said their goodbyes in messages relayed by radio, the 12 cars made a final stop just before we went our separate ways. The expedition leaders, Abd Ashunah as well as second commander Hj Ayub Hj Suhaili in Tango Seven, who had kept an eye on the string of six cars in the rear of the convoy, were given a big round of applause for ensuring the success of the event.
Minor gripes were forgiven and forgotten, the final jokes were traded, contact numbers exchanged between initial strangers who had now become friends. We had endured, the participants said, the rough going and the long hours, pushing sleepiness and exhaustion aside thanks to the never-ending prattle of the amateur radio enthusiasts whose silken voices had kept us amused.

Our cars had endured too, they proudly proclaimed, the almost 2,000km of roads that threw up many surprises.

And as we parted, we cherished the experience that we had been through, and saying farewell to our partners, wondered if we would ever meet to tango again.

Part 2 in a series following a 4x4 adventure from Brunei to Sabah and back again. The Little Devil found it "Gemilang" indeed.