Friday, June 4, 2010

040610 Malakoff Charity Ride - Beach

The last five days b4 the BIG ride was really traumatizing. Traumatized by the fact that I never had ridden beyond the 130km at one go. Worse, we’re starting off with a mind boggling 160km beach front! The thought of sea wind slapping my silky complexion terrified my hapless soul…
As the ride became closer, I kept questioning my own reflection in the mirror. “Mirror-mirror on the wall, Lets hope I’m strong enuff & not crawl…” I had to endure Great Balls with a lotta calls. Ridin 530km is an order tall.

It’s no laughing matter & I don’t wanna be the laughing stock as there gonna be ladies & oldies within the entire motley crew. The 3 days will test my endurance & put my insecurity to rest but before that, I gotta go thru the acid test, hope for the best with jest & hopefully put me up there - amongst the BEST!


Day 1 – Beach Day




Daoh, A Rahim Anuar, Bahari & your goodself

After much pomp & grandeur, we were released with sirens blaring escort which made such a ruckus & woke up the whole neighborhood.




Nizar, me & Doc RockCheetong


112 humans - With skin tight attires, bulging crotches, gaudy attires & glaring shiny sun shades, rolled on the tarmac across the plains, in unison for a common goal.

Every rider was ultra exited. Trilled by the fact that we were the kings of the road. Guzzlers were shoved aside, thanks to the outriders – the marshals who did an excellent job sweeping the vehicles to the road shoulders.

The first 50km was a breeze. It felt like nothing. We arrived in Kuala Besut with much gusto, not wanting to think about the next 110km. We all knew one thing, it aint gonna be pretty. We just went nuts Kuala Besut as cool coconuts quenched our coarse throats as the sun shone so bright, it could melt the tyres.

Pity Rashin. Apparenty he had a puncture & was left hi & lo without help. Being a tuff nut, he rode 50km alone & nearly got kidnapped by the local girls...


Mustaqim Kamel (Centre)




Azhar, Apai & Zafry Fauzi

Kampung Penarik seemed so far as the wind pounded my wheels. I wobbled & hid behind the peloton. The merciless heat was unforgiving too but the group pressed on. Ho yonder, the cloudless sky made some woozy & the sound of bike crashing confirmed my fears that some bloke had hit the tarmac. Whipped out the cam & plodded back to the melee. Some 10 odd riders had rammed into one another. Not all but one had to be rushed to the hospital. Chills ran down my spine. I prayed “Allah Almighty, keep us safe…”




A Rahim Anuar, Hj Rahim, Pak Berahim & AJ



Slightly after noon, we arrived in Masjid Kampong Penarik & stopped for lunch & the Friday prayers. Walloping 2 plates of rice, 10 ladies fingers & 3 pieces of chicken, I can’t help but go for a shower. Left my hair & body dripping with water & bewildered some onlooker. Strong sea breeze enticed me for a short nap but somehow the hard hitting sermon was not to be missed.




Pak Berahim

Someone said we’re starting half an hour earlier. I made a long sigh…Riding at 2:30 pm was a first for me as I’d normally be dosing-off by now during the usual weekends. Who would be loony enuff to ride at this time? Duh, I believe many were cursing the blaring heat during the last 30 km or so. It was damn bloody hot, over 40 degrees.

60km to Kuala Terengganu, I still felt ok. Even though we had passed the 100 km mark, I could still talk - laugh with the guys & shout at baffled bystanders. That’s a good sign…




The Malakoff wheelers


Yazid Maplay


Ol' skool Kelantanese rider, Zulhaimi & Daoh

Lucky us, 20 km to go, there was juicy melons threat waiting for us. My eyes ogling with delight! What a sight for sore eyes. I ended up mixing a concoction for Anuar Manan – Iced tea with some aphrodisiac to enhance his already tuff physique. I stuffed a mouthful of cakes & downed half a dozen glasses of isotonic fluid.


Azmang servin' Anuar Manang


Rashin, Daoh, me, A rahim Anuar, Pak Berahim & Yazid

Half an hour later we were off. Thank you pace car, for handing out water. Riders were passing the water bottle like passing the baton. We rolled onto the bridge across Pulau Duyong captured the tranquility of Masjid Kristal. We knew, the end was in sight.

But tragedy strikes twice. 3 km to go & someone looked at his water bottle & another crash occurred. This time my friend, Pak Berahim tumbled. Lucky for him, he escaped without a scratch. He was more concerned about his LOOK!

I just tell you the kind of funny feelin I had when I saw Sumai Apartment. Smiling ear to ear, I knew I’ll make it for the rest of the days. I dunno, I just knew it. After washing the pee of his bike, one loud local Italiano wanna be screamed with delight! We kinda made it louder.


The MAN


The TAN!

Some of us dipped our limbs into the pool as some digged deep into slumber.

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