East Via Gua Musang

Wednesday, 13 March 2013

I wake up early on my second morning in Tanah Rata on the 12th of March, expecting another very demanding day. I’ve been looking for details on the road to Gua Musang and it’s on crazyguyonabike.com that I read with great interest the diary of Steve Ruelle who cycled the exact same route two month before: 

“Today's run was very intense, as expected, with lots of strength-sapping rolling hills in the hot sun towards the last half. So after coming off the initial pass of 1585m, I started a 400m drop, then a relentless series of ups and downs, like a roller coaster. Despite the massive descents, the Garmin GPS still registered total climbing of 1500+ m.”

This website crazyguyonabike.com is a great source of valuable information for cyclists going off the beaten tracks. In the present case Steve’s post delivers a useful warning. It’s funny how the mind works, how big a difference it makes to be mentally prepared. The 122 kilometres to Gua Musang are intense indeed, just as Steve described. However, I always feel in control and my spirits are high when the cycling ends in Gua Musang.

Greenhouse farms just past the crossing to Kampung Raja

This day leaves me with conflicting thoughts on other levels. The Cameron Highland area is very much domesticated with greenhouse farms and tea estate, the development of which probably started during British colonial times. But further east, a much newer process is taking place. You can see the devastation of the forest actually at work. Everywhere hills are been cleared of their trees. The naked grounds are scarred with truck tracks and levelling works are preparing for intensive palm oil plantations. Truly a saddening sight.

Then sometimes you come across unspoiled stretches. The noise of the forests rises powerfully and engulfs you. Alone on your bike (there is very little traffic) you just feel small and intimidated by the majesty of it all. But the clock of development is ticking and you know it’s only a matter of time before these trees get cleared as well. I’m aware we should not be hypocrites. We’ve been taming natural resources to our benefits for centuries in Western Europe. But I still wish there was another way…

Gua Musang looks like a big crossing: North-to-South and East-to-West routes intersect here in the hart of the jungle. This probably makes for a popular overnight stop, explaining why all the cheaper hotels are full. Eventually I resort to staying in a comparatively upscale room offering TV, airco and wifi for 50 Rinngit (around 13 euro). After dining on blue rice in a local eatery next door I bump into another cyclist looking for a room: Mark Bademeister is also heading to Singapore (although on another route) but he started his trip in Germany more than eleven month ago! I’m even more impressed when I hear this strong guy managed to follow his vegan diet (no meat, dairy products or eggs) throughout his journey. Who says you need meat to have muscles!

Palm tree plantations close to Gua Musang

I haven’t seen a TV in a while and I’ve depleted much of my stock of willpower in the mountains. So I stupidly go to sleep late after watching two movies on satellite TV. In the morning I don’t feel in a great shape. I have a late start after a long breakfast with Mark and hit the road without the mental fortitude of the previous days. I’m in for a bad surprise: the road to Kuala Krai is not the piece of cake I had unconsciously pictured. Much of the 120 kilometres still unroll like a rollercoaster with endless ups and downs. Although the climbs are objectively shorter than the previous day they do feel harder. This is one of those days where you struggle. Soon I just feel like lying down on a bench in the shade and closing my eyes. To keep on going, I decide not to take breaks before covering 20 kilometres at a time. My attention narrows on the single task of counting the kilometres to the next break or – more sophisticated – measuring what fraction of the 20 kilometres are left. I don’t remember much what the landscape was like. But I remember entering Kuala Krai very much exhausted. It’s prayer time so there is nobody at the reception of the budget hotel in town. I wait on the roadside while darkness falls, trying to stretch somehow. The town is so peaceful, the tranquillity only interrupted by flocks of peeping birds or the hypnotic voice of the preacher in the distance.