Date: 11th August 2024
Location: Pedas
Start Time: 9:00 AM
Weather: Rainy
Report:
It had been more than ten years since I had ridden my last hash. When I received notification that Mike would be setting a bash in Senawang, it seemed like too good an opportunity to pass up. Nice kampung roads, bucolic village scenes… what could possibility go wrong?
The first portents of impending doom came when the rain that Mike ordered arrived promptly as the bash started. An inadvertent shortcut found me right at the front, as we dipped into a forest track from the oil palm plantation. This stint at the lead of the bash was short-lived, as the FReBBs (front-running e-bike b*stards) gave me a prompt reminder of my aging limbs. Not long now, I thought to myself, before I too can take out my EPF money too leave the world of meat-powered bikes behind.
From the wide forest track, the trail became narrower and narrower as we wound our way through a fresh singletrack, curtained on each side with a wall of vegetation. Nice. Well done Mike.
From the singletrack, we popped back onto an old logging track, tracing the margin of the jungle. The first check. Scouts were sent in every which direction, before a call was heard. Predictably, it was uphill.
The trail continued along the southern edge of the jungle, undulating up and over ascents that were just about rideable. It was not long before we came to the second check.
It was a nefarious backcheck, solved only with the help of generous hints from the hare. By the time I came to the on trail, the FReBBs had long since disappeared, but not before turning the hike-a-bike section into a murderous gloop that was treacherous to descend and impossible to ascend. Some bossing about ensued (sorry guys), and a human chain was form to transport to the bikes through the hike-a-bike section.
Any advantage to be accrued from a lightweight bike was promptly nullified, as everyone had to carry everybody else’s bike.
After what seemed like eternity, we finally made it out onto an established track, as we headed south and then back eastwards. There was no rest for the wicked, though, as there were stiff climbs still to be negotiated. The trail turned into singletrack again. At this point, the experimental drivetrain I was running threw its chain, and I had to stop to fix it. I was grateful for the momentary respite.
The singletrack ended at a short portage section that linked back to an old forestry track. The rain and earlier riders conspired to turn the steep track into a slippery trap, requiring delicate application of the brakes to avoid falling into its jaws.
We punched back out into the in trail, where the short and long rides diverged. The home trail, I thought. But it turned out that we were barely halfway through the ride. The long run home traversed a mature oil palm plantation, before punching out at the multi-fuel pipeline to Lukut. We followed the pipeline back to the road, and from there it was a short hop back to the homestay from where we started the day, more than five hours earlier.
25km, 1026m of ascents. Well done Mike and his few good men. It was a classic bash. Not quite the Bataan Death March, but definitely Type 2 fun. It probably wasn’t to everyone’s liking, but that was fine. The bash was never intended to be all things to all people. However, for those whose capacity for suffering is exceeded only by their sense of humour, a better time could not be had!
Joe “Casper”Adnan
23 August 2024
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