Hello gang. I'm still alive. Ha ha.

Will be block booking MNS Dorms soon! Try and find it on the map.

A ride from MNS bungalow to Pos Terisu. A journey of about 10 hours. Killer hills and descents.

I fell sick after the ride from overexertion.

Ok rough plan:
3 days needed Apr28-30 (Sat-Mon). You'll have 1 May (Tuesday) to recover. Those who wish may like to stay back in camerons for another day (1May) to maximise the trip.

Day 1 /28 Apr
RV at Tringkap Cameron Highlands for lunch.
(Best to get there via new, highway)

Plant cars at Pos Terisu. (Pending Campsite reccee
Drive to MNS bungalow in Boh Plantation, Ringlet.
Relax.

Day 2 /29Apr
Check out of MNS bungalow.
Load luggage into car.
Ride to Pos Terisu. 50km.
Get stuff from planted cars, tent, food, blablabla.

Day 3 /30Apr
Depart Pos Terisu
Free and Easy
(Don't forget to pick up cars from MNS bungalow)

I hear only 12 more spots left for this epic ride. Sign up soon or be left out.

Currently overbooked at 26 places.

Hey Folks,
Check out photos from Joe Adnan and see what a great ride it was. Cheers

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Ride: Camerons MUDD

Riders: 39

Distance: 47km

Weather: Sunny and light rain

Conditions: Dry to Damp



Cameron’s’ time travel ride by The English Nose

Last Sunday’s ride was quite an exploration of past and present as we rode down then back up through layers of history in Cameron highlands.



The ride had to begin with logistical arrangements of luggage distribution between accommodation points before we could relax and prepare for the next day.



The start of the day was in an area which heavily reflected the British influence of Malaysia as we woke to a sunrise over tea plant covered hills in the Boh plantation of Habu and began to ride down through all these manicured bushes. The lower we went the warmer things became so thermal layers and windbreakers we removed as it was feeling more like the typical Malaysian climate.



Before long, we were descending through jungle, still on concrete roads and occasionally into clearings with Orang Asli villages, all neatly perched on the hill sides, well swept and tidy. All had inquisitive children running out to see the brightly coloured idiots. I guess this is how they have been living for centuries except for the obvious encroachments of modern life like solar power and jeans and T-shirts.



The trail kept on going down and down until one point where it was totally intersected by modern Malaysian life – a dirty great highway ploughing through the jungle on a course for the highlands.



Here we were at Pos Mensun – the now ex-army post set up in the 60s to help defend the communist threat. I learnt that most of the trails we were on were previously roads that linked the various army posts dotted across the land.



So shortly after Pos Mensun we got to the river stop and lunched before the beginning of the long climb back up. With climbs, river crossings and more climbs of note, we eventually got to Pos Terisu, ahead of schedule and all without any drama. I remember it appeared like a mirage out of the trees as I double checked my distance meter, praying James’ distance estimate was correct and the 6km of concrete climbing was over.



Pos Terisu had an Orang Asli school which was to be camp for the night – a restless night for many with a 5:30am wake up to be packed and out by 7 before the school kids arrived.



More logistical wanglings and we were all back at the Tea House of Boh Tea plantation at Habu for light “English” refreshment before driving back to KL.



James and Lee Nya – a great job well done. Next year can we have a longer one?

Adventure in high country after a 3-year lapse by the Yellow Manta

Hardtail or full suss? 24 vs 29 lbs. One is definitely light to push uphill and easy to carry across deep rivers. The other will most definitely feel like a pig to push or carry. A no-brainer, you’d think. An sms to the PainMaster elicited a response that confirmed it - ‘Hardtail’. But just to be sure, I took my son’s hardtail (which I had intended to borrow for the ride) up to Kiara. On the flats and smooth parts of the trail, it felt like the ideal machine for MUDD. But when I hit the rooted and rutted sections, especially on the climbs, and the rear was bouncing all over, I knew then, heavy or not, lightness is no compensation for a heavier but smooth riding full suss. So 29lbs it was gonna be. And no regrets.

And so last Sunday saw me happily joining everyone in the long blast down from the Boh Tea House all the way to Pos Mensun on the Nomad. The bigger part of the famed Jim Thompson trail is now cemented but still great fun to ride. If not for anything other than it was going the right direction – down! At sections where the cement has broken, there are deep ruts but nothing which a full suss cannot handle. More scary were the green mossy bits especially if they were found around the bends. Early in the ride, a lady rider from Singapore probably crashed because of them. Lucky she had full body armour on.

It was such a quick blast that the front pack reached Pos Mensun when it was barely 9am! The other surprise was seeing a brand new highway under construction cutting right across the trail as we approached Pos Mensun. Seems it is a new road linking Raub with Camerons. Do we need another one? Why don’t they just go fill up all the potholes in PJ?

We had a short break at Pos Mensun for everybody to regroup. Next it was a left turn into the unknown for all of us other than the Painmaster and LeeNya. Good thing was the trail was no longer cemented from here on. Weather was still great and we were soon cruising past a number of orang asli villages. But what was sad was the destruction to the environment by the construction of the new highway. The river that runs parallel along the trail was all brown and murky. It sure was most comforting when James said it was a different river that we were going to refill from! But we pity the poor orang asli.

Thanks to an absence of mechanical problems other than a few flats and a couple of snapped chains, we were making so good progress that we reached the first river for lunch almost an hour ahead of schedule! By then we had descended almost 4000ft from the Boh teahouse. When ride resumed at 12.30, we found ourselves trudging along a soggy and almost overgrown singletrack which seemed to be grabbing our wheels! This went on for a few kilometres until we came to the big river. Thank goodness for the good weather as otherwise I couldn’t imagine how we could have crossed it. As it was, the currents were strong and the water more than waist deep. Here I certainly felt the weight of my new bike.

Payback time was just ahead, so the PainMaster told everyone. So we decided to take a nice cool dip in the river before the torture. So a torture it was, grinding up a cemented path that snakes up around the slopes high up in the hills. The scenery was fantastic. A couple of sections were so steep it definitely was a hike-a-bike except for the stronger-legged ones. It had rained earlier and the sky was now overcast. Perfect. Last thing we wanted now was the sun, not on these slopes.

10km later and 2000ft gain in elevation, most of us reached the final destination Pos Terisu by 4pm, well ahead of schedule. The school where we were putting up for the night was so clean it would put so many schools in the towns to shame. And the canteen, our sleeping quarters, was spotless!

For dinner we had pasta and egg omelete thanks to LeeNya and Annie. And then of course the juices started to flow throughout the night. Our combination of beer, stout and red wine was nicely supplemented by shots of whiskey from our Singapore friends and brandy from the Unbelievable. Perhaps we were all dead tired or maybe it was the booze. We hit the sack by 10pm, knowing that we had to vacate the school by 7am the next morning, it being a schoolday! But most of us for some reason didn’t sleep much. We were up by 5 and I was driving out just shortly after 6 with the English Nose, Krankster, Danny and LeeNya in my truck to make sure the lorry guy was coming in as scheduled o pick up the rest of the people.

Once again, our thanks to the PainMaster and LeeNya for having organised another superb PCC outing. I can’t wait to go back again next year. And the MNS Lodge is definetly the place to go!

Camerons MUDD PCC Ride by Jazlany a Fakawi

A dream come true for 39 riders!

Cooling highland weather, around 18 km of continuous downhill (500m altitude descend) through tea plantations (earlier parts), river crossing, around 9.1km climbs (500m altitude ascend, end part), start-to-end around 47km.

Start time : 8.08am (at MNS chalets), End time : around 4.30pm (at SRK Pos Terisu)
Oldest rider : Uncle Robert from Ipoh, 65 y.o. on his HT Schwinn MOAB (the other Schwinn rider was me...hehe)

Contributions: 2 supermarket bikes as gifts to schools. Old clothings to Orang Asli families... gula-gula to orang asli kids (JoeAdnan's main stock). No wonder this ride was well blessed...

A thousand thanks to James (OIIIIO), LeeNya and the rest of the PCC gang for setting this awesome ride...

ONE HECK OF AN EPIC RIDE FOR “FIVE-O” SINGAPORE

Cameron Highlands MUDD, Sun 29 Apr 07

Riders: Chris, Stephen, Larry, Jethro, TC, Robin, Slacker, Fiona, Adrian

“Yawn….” Its 3 am and I can’t sleep, probably due to the residual adrenaline from the Cameron Highlands ’07 MUDD Ride, and the caffeine from the coffee at dinner in KL earlier. So, what else better to do than to ‘re-live’ the ride on paper, and hopefully get it through in time for the Spokes & Nipples Newsletter.

Rewind back 2 months when our team mate, Larry informed us of this event. Without really knowing what we were getting into, we signed up….8 of us from “FIVE-O”, aka 5-0, aka Friends In Velocity Experiences Offroad. After a few drop-outs and new additions, we got our team, and began preparing for it, physically, mentally and logistically.

Fast-forward to Saturday 28 April, 4 am. We were loading up into Stephen’s and Larry’s MPVs, all excited. There were 4 in Stephen’s car including me, Jethro and Slacker. At Larry’s place, TC was the first to arrive, followed by Adrian with his girlfriend to make sure he was in good company, and then Robin and Fiona. The 2 cars then met at Geylang Patah. Just before the Malaysia immigration, Larry’s car encountered a flock of birds resting in the middle of the road and one of them smashed the number plate. It was thought that 3 birds were hit or it could have been one bird hit 3 times. At the Ayer Keroh rest stop, we met up with two of our ‘Five-O’ mates, Gerald and John and their families who were coincidentally going to Gentings, Camerons and Frasers. On the way up from Tapah to Ringlet, we had to stop as one of the riders threatened to puke. We reached the Boh Tea Estate ‘Uumph’ Tea House at 2 pm, and had a hot cup of tea and scones. In spite of our tardiness in arriving, the PCC guys were really accommodating, and got our stuff loaded on to their trucks and delivered to Pos Terisu. We found a Bak-Kut-Teh shop, and had lunch. At dinner later, we got to meet all our fellow riders. After dinner, we made our way to the MNS chalet for the night. We slept in a clean dorm with comfy mattresses, clean sheets and blankets…….and even one stall with hot water! But some bathed in the refreshing cold water, having picked the wrong bathroom. It was ‘early-to-bed’ for most, and soon there was a cacophony of sounds, and a chorus of notes, all indicating sound sleep! Larry, Robin, Fiona, Adrian and Stephen joined the PCC team at the Lodge to enjoy their hospitality consisting of sweet potato soup and coffee and exchanged bike stories, while admiring Peter’s new Santa Cruz Nomad. Eyes never once looked away from this new beauty, and soon, everyone took turns lifting it up to feel its weight, depressing the brake levers and pumping the travel of 5 plush inches of front fork travel. Since LeeNya was the only sweeper, it was quite easy to find her another rider to tag along. “Patrick, la!” pointed Danny and instantly a familiar “Why me la?” shot back. So it was settled there. LeeNya, Patrick and Adrian were the official sweepers.

“Beep-bip..Beep-bip..Beep-bip” One by one, alarms were going off at 5.30 am, as the early risers awoke to get ready. The ones that slept next to the toilet woke up in tandem with every flush. All dressed in mountain-biking ‘battle-gear’, hydration packs bulging with enough water and food for the 10-hour ride, we trudged down for breakfast. By 7.00 am, ‘Five-O’ were assembling their bikes. Jethro, who was not feeling well the previous day, was taking a nap in the car. He had decided to drop out of the ride as he was still not well. He must have been praying hard, for, miraculously, at 7.50 am, he got up, announced that he was well, and decided to ride. Many hands helped him prep his bike, and he was ready to roll at 8 am.

The Ride started from the MNS chalet - elevation 1416 meters - with a long downhill on broken tarmac road with loose gravel and dotted with potholes. I was riding next to Jethro, keeping an eye on our youngest member. I watched as he picked up speed, take a right-hander a bit fast, and could not clear the following left-hander, slide out and crash. No damage to the bike, so he got on and continued. After about 15 mins, we reached an open space and waited to re-group. I heard over the radio that a Singapore lady rider had fallen badly. Who else could it be but Fiona, and this is slacker’s view from his saddle:

Slacker: “Well, I was about a hundred metres behind Fiona when I saw her tumble. It was like watching Matrix except that it did not occur in slow motion… She was thrown forward like a rag doll and as her chest hit the ground, I could see her legs arching backwards (towards her spine). She lay on the ground motionless for a moment and Robin was rushing to her side. “Oh no, she must have broken some ribs, this must be the end of the ride for her” I thought. Initially, Fiona didn’t want to be moved but noticing that she wasn’t screaming in pain eased our worries. She wasn’t as badly hurt as we’d feared. Except for a few cuts to her elbow, she was none the worse for it – the Mountain Bike Gods must have been smiling on her that day….”

After a few minutes, Robin, Fiona and Slacker arrived. Fi sustained some abrasions on her elbow and the front of her jersey was dirty. Here’s what Robin has to report about Fi’s fall:

Robin: “She might have incurred some hairline fractures on the left ribs (hopefully I have guessed wrongly) as any upper body movements are marked with a tinge of pain. Other remnant of the fall is a deep scratch at the side of the On-One seat-stays which exposes the inner tubing.”

We continued downhill to Pos Mensun. The scenery was stunning. To the left and to the right were manicured tea-bushes, all sporting the flat-top look. The slopes they were growing on were so steep that you would need the balance of a mountain-goat to negotiate them. Rolling hills all around, some with delicate wisps of early morning mist, like shreds of white lace hanging over them. But we could only take furtive glances as we sped down the steep and damp trail. Dropping 500 meters altitude, and crossing a highway under construction that will connect Raub to Cameron Highlands, we arrived at Pos Mensun, a small Orang Asli settlement with solar power! After a short break and examination of Robin’s heat-discoloured rotors, we turned left and continued in the direction of Pos Telanuk. We had dropped another 200 meters in altitude, and the trail changed to hard-packed clay, and the climb began. A steep cliff on our right and an even steeper ravine on our left….some brave souls were riding at the very edge. I was feeling the onset of vertigo just looking left, so I hugged the cliff side. Falling rocks came to mind…”Oh S**t !” Staying in the middle seemed best. Here, major construction work was in progress - the new highway to Raub - and we had to avoid the big trucks, while eyes had to be peeled for the little white pieces of paper indicating the direction of the trail. At one fork, we whizzed down only to come to a screeching sliding skidding stop, as we noticed that the paper trail led left on a girder bridge over a river.

Once over the bridge, the terrain changed again. We had arrived at Pos Terakit, another Asli settlement. The trail was now muddy and rocky…with rocks of various sizes to avoid or overcome, and puddles of mud of various viscosities that either sucked you in or spat at you. We were riding on probably the lowest elevation of the day, with a broad river on our right. River? We must be coming to the lunch spot, my stomach was saying. After about 15 minutes, I could see nor hear anyone in front or at the rear. I began to think that I had taken the wrong turn. After all, the lunch spot was supposed to be about 5 km after the bridge, but my meter was telling me that I had gone more than 6 km. Then Adilah rode up behind me, and we both felt a bit more relieved. Two km before the river, TC and Larry stopped to apply Deep-Heat before cramps set in. TC devised a new method of applying it without stopping - dab some on the handle-bar and apply while cycling. The roaring of the river got louder and suddenly, we had arrived. It was 11.30 am, and ahead of schedule. Many riders were already there, some wallowing in the shallows, others filtering water and filling bladders and bottles. LeeNya was swimming, and Robin, Slacker and Fiona got into the water. The rest of us wanted to keep our shoes dry. While others had PowerGel, Uncle Toby’s, bananas and bread, I had home-made carrot & raisin cake, baked by my wife.

At 12.20 pm sharp, we were asked to mount up. We had done 32 km on my meter, much of it down hill and the elevation here was 355 meters. We had dropped over 1000 meters in altitude, and now, as PCC had promised, was ‘pay-back’ time. Reluctantly we got on. Another 15 km to go, promised James, all uphill to an elevation of 938 meters. The trail began with thick mucous-y mud, the type that sticks to tyres. Up and on, the trail was soft mud, with a grassy ridge in the middle, stones, ruts, fallen branches - everything was thrown at us to make it more challenging. The jungle was dense on both sides of the trail, with bamboo and ginger growing profusely. The joking and talking among the riders on the earlier part of the trail now changed to occasional grumbling, but morale was still high. The spirit of camaraderie was strong, as all of us were enduring the same. Every now and then, we had to get off the bikes and push up the steeper sections, then get on and ride the more rideable stretches. The slippery mud surface made traction difficult, and my rear tyre kept spinning often. After what seemed an eternity, I passed a few of our ‘Five-O’ guys filling up at a clear spring. Most of us stopped at here, to collect water or just to appreciate the serenity of the jungle. It was also here that the leeches had a feast. Larry spotted one on his shin and managed to yank it out with a little blood oozing out. TC and Jethro only found out at the end of the ride when they took off their socks and under-wear respectively. TC had to yank out a big fat leech from his feet and Jethro was happy for a moment in the toilet but later to his horror found out that the “over-sized” appendage was just a bloated leech. But I decided to continue on without stopping. Barely 300 meters up, I came to a broad river, this time, with no bridge to cross it - the broken weir that was mentioned in the report. Now, unless I had enough faith to walk on water, I was going to get not only my shoes wet, but my shorts and jersey and my pack too, as I noticed that the water was more than waist-deep in places. What the heck! I began to wade in. The current as quite strong and I was directed to circle around the right. At one point, I could feel the current pressing my bike heavily against me. One slip and I would lose my balance. But the helpful hands reaching out to me prevented that from happening. I reached the bank and watched as Larry came across. He decided to keep his equipment dry, and placed them in his bag, and even took off his shoes. We were fortunate to have helpful guys like James, Rob, and Adrian, standing strategically in the river to help everyone along. Then Stephen came. He faltered a bit, got his balance and moved ahead. This is what Stephen has to say of the crossing:

Stephen: “This was a double irony. I was carrying a waist pouch and since the water was waist deep, I thought it better to sling it around my neck. As I proceeded to wade in I remembered my shin guards which I wanted to keep dry so I took them off. So with guards in my left hand and bike slung over my right shoulder, I started to negotiate the rocky base that was submerged beneath the surface. I couldn’t see a thing and had to rely on shifting my feet slowly. The bike was starting to feel heavy so I must have hurried a bit and stumbled on a slippery rock. I fell face forward, banged my right shin and left knee (hence the 1st irony) and got my waist pack submerged (the 2nd irony). If I had left the waist pouch and the shin pads on, I would have still fallen, but not hurt myself and not get the waist pack wet, as it was at the rear to start off with. And for me the water only reached my crotch so……… When I got to the other bank, I found that the camera was not working and neither was the walkie. Thankfully the mobile was OK and passport dry. (BTW, I found that after hairdrying the camera it started to work again, and best of all the SD Card was OK)…..”

I sat next to Slacker on the bank, and he told me his encounter with the river. He was the first to arrive, but as he found out, first is not always best. Here’s what he said:

Slacker: …”Well, I felt great after washing up at the river and with a full stomach, was raring to go again. I just kept pedaling and pedaling and overtook some riders along the way. Before long, I found myself on a steep downhill full of ruts and had to really concentrate to negotiate it. At the bottom, I was scanning across the river but there was no one in sight.

Somewhat puzzled, I thought to myself, “damn, the leaders are sure fast”. As I’d wanted to catch up to them, I started treading into the river even though I was wondering why no one was at the opposite bank to guide us! I turned back to Kevin, and with his assurance that we were on the right track, decided to continue crossing.

The water flow was really strong, it kept pushing my bike away from me and at times, I struggled to keep my bike by my side. Using my bike as support, I managed to take baby steps until I was about ¾ across. At that point, the water flow had become so strong that I was losing my footing even while standing still! I stood in the water for a couple of minutes, not knowing what to do – I had to go forward as it was the only way to our destination but there was a genuine fear of losing my footing and plunging into the river, never to be seen again… I looked back, wanting to form a human chain but Kevin was too far back. I couldn’t wait any longer and decided to go for it.

The current was really too strong, I had to lift my bike to have any chance of getting across. Luckily, there was no algae on the rocks beneath. Somehow, I managed to stumble across even though my feet got shifted a couple of times by the strong current. Sitting down, I had a quiet moment by the bank and the hairs on my back stood up at the thought of what could have happened. There was no one around to help me if disaster had struck.

Slowly, some riders showed up and followed the path I threaded. Everyone struggled & you could see the fear in their eyes. It was only when James showed up that I realized we were the first riders across. James directed the subsequent riders to a safer path and bit by bit, everyone was across, safely… Well, the important thing is that everyone was safe and I’m sure no one will be forgetting this river crossing anytime soon…”

And now, we were about to be put to the test. We had about 10 km to go, and it was all uphill. The only respite was that the trail was now concreted…..did I mention that it was slimy and algae-covered in many places? I looked at the steep incline and did not think I could ride it. Patrick egged me on when he saw me off the bike by reminding me that it was “rideable”. So, I got on and continued. We met the photographer, Jo Adnan, along the way and managed to have some interesting conversation. Then we came to a very muddy section and my drive-train got so clogged with mud that the gears kept skipping. Luckily there was a stream nearby on the left, and I (and about 10 others) gave our bikes a good wash. Robin came by and offered chain-lube. Wow! The washing and lube did marvels for the bike and my morale, and I got another wind to carry me on. Somehow, six of us- Larry, Stephen, Jet, Fiona, and Robin and I - arrived at the same spot - the stone with the campfire burns - and decided to stop for photo. Larry did his tripod-with-3-bikes trick, and we all got into the pic. Then, with another 8 km to go, we attacked the hill. Slacker and Adrian were already way ahead. I led, with Larry close behind. I began to enjoy this climb!

The incline steepened, I dropped another gear and grinded on. Larry followed with persistence. He said “You stop and I’ll stop too”. So I carried on. I pulled away, and after a distance, I felt guilty, as I promised Stephen to be his wing-man and vice-versa. But since I was on an adrenaline high, I wanted to see where I would be forced to surrender…..and I knew that Stephen and the others would understand…as all bikers would. Also I had comfort in knowing that Stephen was not alone. And here is where I need to put in an acknowledgement to Pat Brunson. He told me on a previous Seminyih ride that to do climbs, one needed to do “endless squats”. Thanks for that valuable bit of advice, Pat! It really paid off. I rode all the way to Pos Terisu without stopping, and I can honestly say……that last 8 km was the best part of the whole ride. I noticed the vegetable fields and knew I must be close. True enough, I caught sight of the school and breezed in just before 5 pm…… 9 hours after starting! Everyone else had already arrived 45 mins earlier.In about 5 mins, the rest of ‘Five-O’ arrived. Larry’s front wheel avoided a huge millipede almost the size of a handle-bar just before the school but the back wheel made a crunching sound. High-Fives and back-slapping all around. I got out my bottle of 12-year old scotch and passed it around. All hyped-up and hot, the cold shower felt great.

Soon, the mini-stoves were hissing as water was being boiled for the instant noodles. In one corner, the ladies from PCC were cooking pasta and bulls-eye eggs. After we had our noodles, Adrian passed around his luncheon meat and hot soup. But the ride took out much more from us, and we were still hungry. We then went for the pasta and eggs, cooked to perfection. Everything tasted like gourmet food from the finest restaurant. Finally we were satiated. Then it was more rounds of whiskey and cognac, passed around by me and Patrick. I saw the English Nose sniffing his glass of wine, and others with stout and beer. Each traded anecdotes and accounts of their experiences as the night wore on.

Tired, we crawled into our sleeping bags. Others came better prepared with camp-beds, and even a queen-sized inflatable bed. The floor was too hard for my too-soft butt and I tossed and turned. Morning came much too slowly, and we quickly packed up and cleaned the area, as the school-kids were already beginning to arrive. While waiting, we noticed many huge spiders (there were almost 8 dangling from a stretch of 50 feet of power lines just over-head) at the school, and watched in amazement a large rhino-beetle flying in a hovering pattern. Someone drove out to call for the truck and van, which arrived at 7.50 am. We all loaded up for the roller-coaster ride 7 km out to the main road, and stopped at Brinchang for breakfast of roti canai and teh halia. Next stop, MNS chalet to pick up our cars, load up and go home. After saying our good-byes and promising to ride together again soon, we went our separate ways.

We all agreed that this was a great ride and the guys at PCC did a great job….James Yap, Peter, Bak, Tun, Jaslan, Patrick, Jester, Rob, LeeNya, Adilah, Simon, Danny, Kenny, Vincent, Robert and all our new friends at PCC, and my Five-O team-mates – Stephen, Larry, TC, Jethro, Slacker, Robin, Fiona and Adrian…….thanks for the company.

I always feel that the Ride is only half the fun. The other fun half is the time spent meeting old and new friends, the meals together, camaraderie, and teh-tarik talk.

Chris de Souza, Stephen, Jethro, Slacker, Robin, Fiona, TC, Adrian & Larry

FIVE-O

Singapore

Here’s the actual GPS readings of time and elevation taken from Larry’s GPS:

7:54am: 1416m elevation - MNS Bungalow
8:31am: 1046m
9:05am: 707m
9:31am: 584m
10am: 506m
10:36am: 269m
10:44am 321m
10:53am: 241m (the lowest point)
11:42am: 355m (I think this is the lunch spot by the river)
12:23pm: 379m (after lunch break)
12:58pm: 484m
2:02pm: 538m
2:38pm: 602m
3:17pm: 770m
3:36pm: 795m
4:08pm: 892m
4:32pm: 939m
4:41pm: 938m (POS TERISU)

I have done this ride before with PCC years back, it seems that u all have done a longer route. The last time (2002) it ended back at Habu by the bertam valley. So was this old route still ok to ride?

Not sure but the best person to check is James Yap