Where do we go from here?

Lorong Halus, 38 km. Public holiday. "Shake legs" at home, then pedal. Ah, a river without concrete banks, a trail without asphalt. My fat tyres roll with little effort. Then, the trail narrows. Tall grass, soggy ground, pools of black water that swallow my rims and dirt that goes "scrape scrape" between brake pads and rims. Vegetation blocks what's left of the path. But people have been here before me. I walk around the obstacle, the undergrowth wrapping itself around pedals.

Can I tell where the river begins and where the bank ends when I'm off the path? I reach what seems to be a dead end, underneath a bridge. There are two fishermen there, dressed in business casual. I guess they're workers from China. I ask one of them for directions. He certainly didn't cycle to this spot! I backtrack, and meet another mountain biker. He's going past the "dead end" and claims it's passable. He's heading towards storm clouds. Well, I've had enough of water beneath my feet, no thanks to more water from the sky.

As I backtrack, I come across a make-shift bridge and wonder if I should cross to the other bank. I decide to stick to the tried and tested. Good thing I did. Though the grass looked greener on the other bank, it turns out, from a proper vantage point, that there's no trail over there.