Kiara Downhill Run

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Jungle Ride 20/3/08

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New Fakawi Tribe website launched

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The cycling specific Search Engine...

Retro Mountainbike

I've been bitten by the retro bug!
It all started when I got my greasy hands on a 1984 antique mountainbike which has exactly the same specs as the original 1984 Stumpjumper Sport.

It's an UltraliteProducts USA (UP USA). Not much info is available about the manufacturer.

Check out the bike still in pristine working condition!
More Pictures :: Here

:: TribalTalk Forum

The Tribe has finally launched it's very own cycling forum. A place for mountainbikers and roadies to hang out and discuss biking stuff.
Response has been good so far.
Check it out here www.FakawiTribe.com/tribaltalk

My Name Is Goyang and I'm a Taman Rider

Let me get straight to the point. I own the lightest mountain bike in the world.

There I’ve said it. I’ve made a claim that will probably make any sane cyclist utter words they usually don’t use in the presence of small children. But here I am, practically a nobody in KL’s elite cycling circle, telling the whole world that those ‘uber’ Specialized and fancy ‘Giant’ carbon contraptions are pork chops compared to my tacky no-name Taiwanese hardtail.

A tacky no-name bike that tips the scale at 18 lbs; have you weighed your all terrain, ringgit devouring beast lately?

Now before you start sending death threats to the Fakawi chief for letting this audacious piece of ‘crap’ slip through his server, let me remind you that he is the one responsible for getting me into all this mess in the first place. Thanks a bunch, Chief.

It all started on a beautiful Saturday afternoon, I was happily minding my own business, checking out the tubing wall thickness of a couple of road bikes at a shop in Taman Tun.

Suddenly I saw him, the dude was trying to talk some guy into buying a cool Marin hardtail. The victim, also a friend of mine who later decided to invest his dough on carps, was sensible enough not to buy the bike.

But this poor sucker did!

And so the saga begins, the Doc has turned this fun loving, Kenny G worshiping hippie into a tight-assed weight weenie, a tragedy not unlike Anakin Skywalker’s shift of alliance to the dark side. The only difference is Darth Vader looks cool in his new outfit, whereas I still look like a dork on my fancy new bike.

Days passed and the weight losing obsession became more and more severe. In a time span of only a couple weeks, I have managed to upgrade everything except for the tiny fork cap that has the logo of a small rhino; just to emphasize the irony that the bike now weighs slightly less than half of my butt.

Don’t get me wrong, I am not a Lance Armstrong wannabe. I’ve never had cancer, never dated Sheryl Crow and I have a fitness level of a 52 year old high-court judge. This drive to have the lightest mountain bike possible is motivated by something really sinister. You see, a man like me can’t have the biggest pay check, can’t have the hottest chick, can’t have the coolest car but with god as my witness, chained to the grill of a locked room inside my burglar proof house is the world’s lightest mountain bike. It will remain my pride and joy until some jealous sod decides to burst my bubble with a claim of having a lighter bike. If you do, please e-mail me; don’t worry! I won’t hunt you down and mangle you like a rabid dog.

So there you have it, one sad story from one sad guy who is too awkward to be a roadie and too wimpy for off-road. If you happen to be in one of the ‘Tamans’ of Putrajaya and see this major geek pedaling a white hardtail with a cigarette in his mouth, honk once for support or honk twice if you feel like running him over because of this obnoxious article. And if you’re really groovy, don’t honk at all, just turn to the sexy chick sitting beside you and gently tell her this;

“See that dude over there, he’s riding the lightest mountain bike in the world”.

Thanks for reading.

:: View Gallery

- Goyangawi

Andrewawi Rides With The Fakawi

Andrewawi Initiated into the Tribe

The Fakawians?

Who are they??

What has mountain biking to do with this "tribe"???

Questions only to be left answered when I headed back to Malaysia, mid-August 2005. Before my trip, sources indicated that Malaysia was blanketed with thick smog “haze” as a result of forest fires in Sumatra. I was bummed by this. Rumor has it that Malaysia suffered an economic loss of 9.3 billion ringgit. Situation critical---businesses, schools and public institutions were incapacitated. I had visions of riding the trails looking like cousin Darth Vader. But luck was in my favor, or rather thanks to Malaysia’s natural green defenses---its tropical rainforest and with its afternoon thunderstorms---these defenses, served as a catch-sink to the smog.

In KL, I hooked-up with "Patawi", a canuckian, and we managed to arrange for a meeting with the Fakawians. My journey started out on the following coordinates on the Google Map---3 12' 57.65" N, 101 46'25.10" E---I think the coordinates are close---a place called Kampung Kemensah. The night before our ride, err! meeting, the skies opened the flood-gates, and it poured. Great!---fat chance for a meeting. The next morning, however, blue skies and cumulus clouds, a great day to ride. We brought our bikes as our offering of friendship and good gesture to the "tribe", i.e., Chief Ongawi, and Kevinawi. BTW, Chief Ongawi offered coffee and cream in return. Sweet! I guess this means that I've been accepted to join in their venture into the pristine trails of the jungle.

We arrived at the point of take-off, and as we unloaded our trusty metal steeds, I couldn’t' help but noticed that everyone had a parang holstered to the top-tube of their steeds---yikes! This is one sight that I'll never see back in BC. Patawi had a GPS mounted on his handle-bar to plot the trail routes. My hands quickly reached into my hydration pack to see what similar tool, or its equivalent, that I brought over, perhaps something that could match their parang. Alas! all I could find was a bear-bell and a whistle. Great, eh! While it's prudent to have both a bear-bell and a whistle on those long epic rides up in BC, certainly parang is not one of them.

So I sheepishly prepared my riding gear, and readied my riding steed Brodie, with the hopes of not offending anyone, and as the four of us disappeared into the jungle, for it beckons us, I was acutely aware of my thoughts and actions, but with great anticipation of the unknown of what's ahead (or who's riding behind), black spitting cobra, wild-boar, and mozzies (mosquitoes).

The jungle trails are largely single tracks with ferns, and vines lined with thorns, along the way. Certainly there were uphills, uphills, uphills…should I reiterate more? The green jungle, never changes its color, seemingly behaves like an entity taking a life of its own soon enveloped us, literally. In certain sections, pathways were partially blocked by either overgrowth of bamboo or fallen branches. Aha! I got it, having a parang handy to hack through and to clear the way would be great. These single-tracks were mostly made by Orang Asli (aboriginals). There's always abundance of food---just need to know what to look for. Me, I was looking for durians, beats a powerbar.

The treat of the day---the waterfalls. Now do you think Starbucks would ever consider opening an outlet here for folks like us? After riding in the humidity, soaking in sweat, having to sit by the waterfalls, and splashing the cool water over my steaming head was a relief. It was good to be back, and in many ways I felt all charged-up.

Like all good stories, there’s always the beginning and the end, and in my case, an end of our ride. Patawi, Chief Ongawi, and Kevinawi, and I and ended our rides by having iced-cold Milo, and roti-canai to fuel up. At that time, while brief in time, our ride ended with the forging of a bond, created by the aroma of roti canai, that I felt despite where ever we are, and who we are, we all shared a common interest---to seek single-tracks and to keep on riding. I guess in many ways I now know what the Fakawians is all about. I don’t think that this is the end of a story, but rather the beginning. Thanks guys. I’ll be back.


:: View Photo Gallery

-Andrewawi