Borneod!!!

Last fall I lucked into a chance to fly to Borneo and report on a mountain bike race. In the weeks leading up to departure I refused to allow myself to get excited - since it seems to good to be true, I reasoned, it probably is. Here are some impressions of my initiation to the mountain bike media.

Day I
Being the plankton of the media food chain, I was the last to know that what we are on is a fam trip. Mediaspeak for familiarisation trip. That means we are travelling around after the race to get a taste of the tourist opportunities of Sarawak, a Malaysian province on the island of Borneo. The celebrities of our entourage are Mike Ferrentino of Bike Magazine and Scott Sharples, a pro downhiller here to enjoy the culture and race a little cross country for fun. Ferrentino's observations about the world are as hilarious and quirky in real life as in print and he has a comical Inspector Gadget air about him. He is disarmingly candid and generous about his craft and I probe him with questions. His most memorable advice "never state in print that you can do anything on a bicycle or it will come back to haunt you". Scott is a fun loving and interesting Australian who is anything but a prima donna.

Day II
After about 36 hours of travel time we have arrived at Damai Lagoon. Malcolm and Eunice Jitam, the race organisers, accompanied us cheerfully from the airport. Our hotel has an opulent open air lobby like something off Fantasy Island (Tattoo is downstairs at the Karoake bar) and our room overlooks an amazing palm filled, jasmine scented garden.

We rode the race course this afternoon and it is North Shore technical in places. There are some nasty rocky drop-offs and some crafty switch backs, both kept permanently slick by the rain forest.

Day V
Today was the surprisingly entertaining "cross-city" race, so named because it incorporates off-road skills in an urban setting.

There is a Vancouverite expat (named Pat) competing on his DC Hummer. He keeps things running smoothly at a T.V. station in Kuala Lumpur and has competed in the Rainforest Cup twice before. The racing scene is his way of avoiding the air conditioned, beer and TV lifestyle this climate encourages. He beat his main competitors (an Aussie and a Yank) handily today in the Vet category. Go B.C.!

It turns out that being on a fam trip is a little like travelling with your parents. There are some advantages; swankier accommodations (no cockroaches) better airlines (aaaahh Malaysia Airlines business class) tastier and more plentiful food (will I need to declare the extra 5 pounds I'm bringing home?) and you don't have to worry about nuisances like plane tickets or hotel reservations. Just come along for the ride. This comes at a cost. You can't set the agenda, change plans on a whim or dodge a tour that doesn't interest you. You never really seem to know what is happening next, ("what are we doing today Dad?") and you have to share a room with one of your "siblings".

Day VI
This morning most of the racers were fretting over their bikes and performing last minute tweaks. Scott and Paul, two Aussie racer- journalists were instead building an 8 foot goddess in the sand and nursing severe Bintang beer hangovers.

It rained most of the night just to make the course extra greasy and, in a cruel twist, the sun is blazing in a cloudless sky.

Despite a few tumbles the morning went smoothly. Pat the expat crashed on one of the boardwalks, flatted and had to settle for second to Mike, his Yankee adversary. Boo Hiss.

The pro race was a bust for the westerners. Both of the Australians crashed and so did Mike Ferrentino. The other American blew up because of the heat and last night's Bintang. A fellow from Thailand who was a silver medalist at the commonwealth games won today and Asians owned the podium. Acclimatisation is a huge factor. With heat and humidity like today breathing is like sucking mushroom soup through a snorkel.

All in all the race was a big hit. Smooth organisation, good fun (crashes for the spectators) and no tragedies.

Malcolm was giddy from the day's success and was beaming at the banquet. He was up on the stage with a full suspension bike and we were all egging him to launch it. To our dismay he went for it and nose-dived into the paisley carpet. Luckily he sustained only a sore neck and the worst facial carpet burn I have ever seen. We all felt personally responsible and were sheepish for the rest of the evening.

Day IX
The Iban tribesmen were waiting by their longboats when our bus arrived at the dam. Soon we were loaded and zooming between trees submerged by dam waters and bouncing up rapids, all at full throttle unless the river became too shallow.

Two and a half hours later we arrived here at the Nanga Sumpa long house on the Delok river - perhaps as far removed from modern culture as I have ever been. We were greeted by children playing. They jumped from their bridge, pushed a chainless bicycle and chased mangy dogs and tiny pigs - with an exuberance that has become rare in our hyper-entertained culture.

My comrades left after a welcoming ceremony in the long house but I was drawn to linger. Two young women spent half an hour dividing the sweets, cookies and cheap toys we had brought into equal piles, one for each of the 15 odd families who live under one large roof. There were no disputes - all waited patiently until everything was divided and then politely collected their share.

The sounds of the jungle startled me as I crossed the bridge. Birds, beasts, insects all at the same time with astounding volume - a patternless rhythm echoing beneath the most brilliant night sky I have ever witnessed. I really am in Borneo and yes, it is too good to be true.