Motorcycle diaries 2

2 August. Three motorcycles left the office of this environmental group based in Kendari. I was a backseat passenger on one, with this fortyish Indonesian guy as my driver and travelling buddy. Pendoks and Junet rode together. Amir took the third bike going to Anda's place where we would be picking him up. Anda would later be driving, with Amir as his passenger. Coming from the hotel with my backpack and laptop, I kept wondering how I'll be able to balance myself on a two-wheeled vehicle with my hands full. But somehow, I managed to do it. And so I was off now on this 8-hour journey into the Sulawesi forests. Our convoy rode on northwards for about an hour or so. My knees were shaking, though I was trying hard to relax. Kept thinking that Kantan, the erstwhile motorcycle pilot, could lose his balance if I were to make any sudden movements. I was limited to shifting my body weight from left to right and vice versa. Or to wiggling my toes. The wind hit my face hard. And I found out that if I opened my lips slightly, it would curl backwards towards my gums. Did it a couple of times, just for fun. By 9 a.m., we were still on paved roads. We've been on the bikes since about 7 in the morning.  My butt, perched on that motorcycle seat for almost two hours as a very compliant albeit nervous back rider, was starting to go numb.

9:30-11 a.m. Our first stop coming from Anda's place was a gasoline station. The next one would be some food stalls standing by the roadside. Ate corn direct from the cob and two hard-boiled eggs. Then pushed it all down with extra sweet native coffee. I would have also eaten noodles with chili sauce. But I was thinking we were just having our breakfast, and would perhaps soon be stopping again somewhere along the way for lunch (which was not going to be the case, as I would find out later). We were back on the road again after that belly-filling stopover. By around 10:30 a.m., Kantan motioned to a sign on one of the establishments by the roadside to indicate that we have just entered Konawe district. Had no idea how large a district in Indonesia was. But I knew that after Konawe would be Kolaka district. And that's where Alaaha village would be located. The road was still good, and Kantan and I were riding at full speed, sometimes overtaking Anda and Amir who were at the convoy's lead most of the time. By 11 a.m., we came upon this fork in the road: the paved road continuing to the right, and a rough one going straight ahead towards the mountains.

11-2 p.m. My first taste of rough road on a bike was not so bad. After almost an hour of passing through it, we saw Anda and Amir resting by the roadside, in front of this big native house (which I eventually learned later was built by members of this indigenous mountain tribe who assimilated a number of those mainstream Indonesian ways). After a few minutes with still no sign of the third motorcycle, my Indonesian hosts decided to send Kantan back and look for Pendoks and Junet. Meanwhile, the owners of the house offered us some chairs in the front yard. Citing the heat from the noonday sun, they asked us later to wait inside the house. My companions shared with the owners a few information about where our group was going and what yayasan we belonged to. Kantan came back a few minutes later, followed by the third bike. Apparently, Pendoks had some mechanical problems with his motorcycle and they had to stop by a shop for some repairs. We were soon on our way again. By around 1 p.m. we encountered our first whiffs of cool mountain air. The road had also turned from bad to worse with all the gaps or streams we had to cross using the log bridges. Some of the logs were worn out or not placed properly, so I had to get off at times and cross these muddy and slippery logs on foot. This routine provided some relief to my sore butt, and was thus a much welcomed activity.  Luckily, the sun was up for most of the afternoon, though there were some dark, heavy clouds at times. Simply couldn't really imagine how things would have turned out if there were some downpours along the way - didn't bring any umbrella or raincoats with us.  So no idea how I could have kept myself and my things (including my laptop, books, and notebooks) dry. Not to mention how we could have crossed the Konawe River if it has suddenly swollen due to rain.