Every weekend, without fail, a strange phenomenon occurs in Malaysia. As the sun rises over the Klang Valley, convoys of highly motivated gentlemen gather at petrol stations armed with energy drinks, oversized rear wings, aftermarket exhausts capable of communicating with extraterrestrial life and enough stickers to add at least 50 horsepower. Their destination is Genting Highlands. Their mission? Officially, breakfast. Unofficially, they appear to be preparing for the qualifying session of the Malaysian Mountain Grand Prix.
Now, before anyone starts furiously typing in the comments section, let me clarify that there is absolutely nothing wrong with enjoying a good drive. Petrolheads have been seeking out winding roads since the invention of the motorcar. The problem begins when some drivers become convinced, they are the reincarnation of Ayrton Senna simply because they installed a cold air intake, fitted some semi slick tyres and watched three YouTube videos about racing lines. Suddenly the road to Genting transforms in their minds. Tourist buses become moving chicanes, families in Toyota Vios become backmarkers and every corner presents an opportunity to demonstrate that the laws of physics are merely polite suggestions.
The irony is that many of these cars are genuinely capable machines. Modern hot hatches, sports cars and performance sedans can achieve remarkable speeds with astonishing levels of grip. The driver however, remains stubbornly human. No amount of carbon fibre, tuning, stickers or loud exhausts can upgrade the software sitting behind the steering wheel. Unfortunately, many seem to forget that Genting is not a race circuit. It is a public road used by tourists, families, motorcyclists, bus drivers and people simply trying to get from one place to another without unexpectedly becoming part of somebody else’s Fast & Furious audition tape.
Yet every weekend, someone decides that overtaking three vehicles into a blind corner is a perfectly reasonable life choice. The rest of us then get to enjoy the inevitable social media post that follows: “Guys, unfortunately the car lost control.” No, my friend, the car did not lose control. The car followed your instructions with remarkable obedience. You were the one who lost control. Cars are many things, but they are not known for making independent decisions.
Perhaps the funniest part of all this is that genuine track drivers are often the calmest people on public roads. The chap who spends weekends at Sepang is usually the same fellow quietly cruising home at a sensible speed while listening to classic rock. Why? Because he already knows how fast his car is. He has nothing to prove to a random stranger in a modified Myvi named “Black Mamba” or a Civic adorned with enough aerodynamic accessories to qualify for air traffic control clearance.
So, what should be done? Stricter enforcement would certainly help. Dangerous overtaking, racing and reckless driving should be treated seriously because they place innocent road users at risk. More affordable track days would also give enthusiasts a safe and controlled environment to enjoy their cars properly. Personally, I would also advocate for a compulsory common-sense examination before anyone is allowed to install a loud exhaust. Questions might include, Is a public road a race track? Should you overtake on a blind corner? Is arriving at breakfast three minutes earlier worth meeting your ancestors? Failure to answer correctly should result in an immediate speed limiter and mandatory exposure to a continuous loop of disappointed lectures from one’s mother.
At the end of the day, the road to Genting remains one of Malaysia’s most enjoyable drives. The scenery is beautiful, the air is cooler and the journey can be genuinely rewarding for those who appreciate driving. However, there is a significant difference between enjoying a spirited drive and treating a public road like the final lap of the Monaco Grand Prix. Contrary to popular belief, nobody is standing at the top of Genting handing out trophies for the fastest ascent. The only prize available is arriving safely, enjoying your breakfast and making it home without becoming the subject of tomorrow’s viral accident video. Frankly, that should be victory enough.
