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Toyota Innova Road Trek
Who's afraid of the water?
Well, we are... but that's precisely why we write about cars, not boats
Words by Vernon B. Sarne; Photography by Charles Kim
This is the second Innova Road Trek, an adventure-type journey-cum-contest that Toyota Motor Philippines has been organizing for the media—first, to give exposure to its best-selling multipurpose vehicle, and second, to give its journalist-friends a respite from the daily grind of nerve-wracking deadlines. Apparently, Toyota believes that large doses of fun can be had if you fly the press out of Manila to some far-flung tourist spots in the country, and then group them per publication and make them compete with one another for team glory (and cash, lest we forget to mention).
In short, this is Toyota's idea of The Amazing Race if it were fused with Fear Factor.
A lot is at stake for me at this year's event. Last year, when Toyota brought us to Panay Island, I led my former publication (a national daily newspaper) to a second-place finish in a field of 10 competitive teams, including, well, the combo of Summit Publishing's Top Gear and FHM. We would have been champions if only we knew how to dance (yes, Toyota made us wear ati-atihan outfits and dance at a church plaza).
And then I moved to this highly regarded magazine early this year.
Contrary to all the politics and vicious talks that surrounded my hiring, I was brought here really just to help Summit win the Innova Road Trek crown. It's like when an NBA team snaps up a player from one of its rivals to beef up its roster for the goal of winning the championship. Yeah, something like that.
Perhaps Summit management had heard about my toughness and aggressiveness. They probably learned that I was so competitive, I thought nothing of shoving female members of opposing teams for precious contest points. I won the 'Ayaw Patalo' award in the first Innova Road Trek—in case you want a clearer picture of my no-retreat-no-surrender attitude. Summit bosses simply hoped I could bring that kind of grit to the TG-FHM team.
Fair enough. Let's get it on.
As expected, the invitation to the 2006 Innova Road Trek arrives, though I'm not sure if Toyota intends to do this every year until it runs out of ideas on how to torture us. The instruction is simple. Pick four healthy, adventurous bodies to make up your team. Um, OK... we do have a lot of literally healthy bodies around here; I just don't know about the willingness to be adventurous.
And then it dawns on me: I really don't need to toil over member selection since TG only has two slots, the other two going to FHM. So I'm left to pick just one other competitor for TG, which is also a no-brainer since we have to bring along a photographer. Hence, I commission staff lensman Chuck Kim, a Korean immigrant who would be a world-class athlete if drinking were an Olympic event.
FHM has also sent editor in chief Allan Madrilejos and editorial assistant Lou Albano. Both could be counted on to walk on shards of glass or lip-synch Michael Bolton if that would translate to team victory.
I actually like the tandem—Top Gear and FHM. These two magazines only happen to be the manliest of all the titles published by Summit. They're oozing with machismo and they're the most chauvinistic, traits that are extremely crucial for when we are already jostling with female rivals.
Allan, it should be noted, also wasn't a member of the TG-FHM team that placed poorly in last year's proceedings. So you can say the two of us have been called upon as reinforcements. This is going to be one big fight (to borrow that combative mantra from Allan's alma mater).
On the day of our flight to Cagayan de Oro, this year's Innova Road Trek venue, the four of us agree to race to the airport hoping to reap the bonus points awaiting the first three teams to complete their lineups. I arrive last—to think I live 10 minutes away from the airport. Goodbye, bonus points.
What is this?! I'm losing my competitive edge?!
When our plane—Cebu Pacific, by the way (ahem!)—touches down in CDO, I vow to give it my all. Only a victory would make this trip worthwhile, I keep telling everyone.
And then there they are, at the airport parking lot: a fleet of shiny Innovas carrying a most ominous object on their roofs. A raft is tied to each vehicle, obviously indicating we are about to do what CDO is popular for—white-water rafting. This would have been all good and exciting... if I knew how to swim.
Of course, you can argue that rafting doesn't require swimming. But what if I fell off the raft? Yes, there's a life vest, but it does nothing to calm down the frenetic heartbeat of a non-swimmer floating helplessly.
It turns out that 75 percent of all the challenges for this event have something to do with either water or height—both of which scare the Menudo tunes out of my subconscious. Great. So much for my so-called competitiveness; our team can now officially kiss our chances goodbye. Still, being the proud male that I fortunately am, I give the challenges a try.
There's the rafting, as already mentioned. I pass this one with flying colors. It's actually Chuck who gets thrown off the raft. Also, I find out that this activity is perfect for giving your forearms and biceps a nice workout—especially if only two out of four people are paddling.
Then there's the flip-flop, a stunt in which all members of your team jump off the raft and turn it over 360 degrees before climbing back onboard. An expert swimmer almost drowns before our very eyes. Imagine what it does to my psyche.
Oh, yeah, there's the Graduation Rock, where Toyota mercilessly challenges us to plunge ourselves into the water from a 30-foot height. This probably doesn't sound scary enough, but you have to understand that I'm trying to overcome not just my fear of water but also a mild case of acrophobia. If I'm notoriously the butt of swimming jokes, here I become immortal for standing by the edge of the rock for what seems like an eternity.
I manage to jump, of course, but not before I've made a clown of myself in front of jeering colleagues.
Finally, there's the get-as-many-balls-as-you-can-while-you're-streaming-down-the-water contest. This one I don't even attempt to join. At last, I give up. I'm accepting the fact we'll never win this year's event. Time to look forward to and prepare for next year.
On our last night, I'm so disappointed that I simply sleep through the awarding ceremonies. We must have finished sixth or seventh overall—I don't know and I don't care.
I just really, really hope that the Innova continues to sell well. So that Toyota will still have a reason to stage this road trek.
We're bouncing back next year. You can bet on it.
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Top Gear Philippines - August 2006
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