Rainforest ramble
Trip Start
Jul 15, 2007
1
140
195
Trip End
Jul 16, 2008
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Taman Negara Rain Forest,
Malaysia
Sunday, March 16, 2008
Tropical rain forests are justifiably celebrated for their biodiversity. Last night we saw both red and black ants, several species of moths, and a spider the size of a teacup.
That was just in our room.
Last night's sleep was not terribly restful, between the kids' fear of the spider emerging from under the bed where he fled when we tried to defenestrate him, and the ant bites that covered my neck the next morning. This morning we drank lots of caffeine and met our guide Hasbi for our jungle trek.
There is a reason they call it a rain forest
Bamboo grove
. The downpours we experienced during our ride up the river yesterday reduced the jungle path largely to mud. We soldiered onward for more than two hours, amid a rising chorus of complaints from the kids. Jack, who studied Malaysia in the third grade and insisted our world trip include a visit to the Malaysian rain forest, was at his whining worst this morning. As we were climbing up toward a nearby peak with a good view, the path got steeper. Fixed ropes ran alongside the path, and we were soon half-climbing hand-over-hand, half-slipping in our flat-bottomed sandals on the muddy path.
Then we reached a downed tree that crossed the path, which was liberally sprinkled with tiny red ants. Katharine freaked, screaming out loud and trying to hurl herself off the path, which would at that location have resulted in a two-hundred-foot rolling plunge down a 60 degree slope. I had to grab her and hold her to keep her from tumbling away. After a few minutes of very direct discussion, Katharine allowed herself to be manhandled over the tree, still whimpering. About five minutes later we reached the first overlook. We were only 500 meters from the top of the hill and the famous panorama over the rain forest.
I'm sure it must be nice. The panorama, that is. Amid a general revolt, I agreed to turn tail and descend, feeling like Norman Dyenfurth on the 1963 American Mount Everest expedition. ("Up go, Bara Sahib?" "No, Ang Dawa, down go.") We did get a few pictures of green trees rising in the mist.
Soon it was time to go back down
Medicinal plants
. Here in the sodden jungle of Malaysia , the descending staircase appeared to be made of standard platform iron sheets, the stuff with the diamond-shaped treads. Our guide told us to step on the board only in the center, directly over the underlying wooden beams. At first it was not clear why this was important - surely I had not grown so fat that I could plunge through a quarter-inch sheet of plate steel? Closer inspection revealed that what was shaped like iron plating was actually pressboard. Of all materials to use for the treads of a steep stairway rising through a tropical rainforest that gets several hundred inches of rain a year, surely wood chips in glue has to be high on the list of inappropriate materials.
After a half hour's steady careful descent, we came to our next challenge, the world's longest canopy walkway. My turn to whimper. As I've said before, I am no fan of heights. I react to heights and open spaces much as Katharine does to marauding ants. The prospect of being 120 feet high, walking on an 8" board supported by a woven rope netting, has never ranked high on my must-do list.
Having been so brutal with Katharine less than an hour before, I felt obliged to set a good example on the canopy walkway
A real swinger
. This time Katharine begged to go first, strolling across the planks 120 feet above the forest floor with no evident fear. I followed. My 230 pounds had a very different effect on the walkway, setting it actively bucking and swaying. Jack stepped on ten meters behind me, and almost immediately panicked. I turned back toward him, setting up an even more violent swaying. "Jack, do you want me to go down with you?" I asked, secretly hoping the answer might be yes.
"No, Dad. You are not allowed to go back." Jack then did an incredibly brave thing. Though he was so scared he was crying, he resolutely put one foot in front of the other and moved toward me. In response, I took a deep breath, relaxed my knees, and turned back to the way forward. Katharine was already across.
The walkway from the entry building to the first tree platform was pretty short. The next one was not. It was a two-hundred foot curving pathway through space to a distant tree. I decided the walk required music, and launched into our current favorite traveling song, Kenny Chesney's Back Where I Come From. In the town where I come from... (No, that is not right. Deep breath. Jack steps onto the board ten meters behind me. The rhythmic swaying intensifies.) In the town where I was raised, clocks ticked and the cattle grazed. (That is better. Stepping up onto the second platform. Four more to go.) That's where I come from, where I'll be when its said and done. (I hear the piping voice of Alec from well behind. Lex is a major Chesney fan. Jack follows me up a slanted aluminum ladder to a higher bridge, which is already swaying like crazy
Forest vista from halfway up the mountain
. Katharine waves from the next platform about 100 meters away, then begins walking calmly back toward us, just like she is on a sidewalk back home.) I'm proud as anyone to say, that's where I come from. (My camera case snags on a rope and jerks me back and sideways. A flash of panic. Deep breath. Carefully unhook the snag. Onward and upward.)And we are finished. Another several hundred yards of walkway lie on the other side of a closed gate, currently under repair. One by one the others arrive. Jack is obviously unhappy, Katharine (who went back to meet Amy and Alec) absolutely loved it. Alec and Amy found the experience fun, too.
To cheer Jack up, I explained that he will never need to do a canopy walk again. "Imagine you are at Boy Scout camp, and they ask you if you want to do a canopy walk. You can say, 'No, thanks. I already did the longest one in the world, in the Malaysian rain forest. After that these little ones just aren't worth the trouble.'"
Comments
Courage
Funny how I missed this blog earlier, and am now reading it after observing Jack and Katharine bungy jump in New Zealand! Now I understand where that courage came from!! (Personally, I think I would of peed my pants!) Barb