Dover Forest East

In a previous post, I explored a brief history of Dover Forest. Recently, I walked the ground and checked out Dover Forest East, successfully finding a path through the forest.

Here is a map of the route I took, in light blue:

Views of Dover Forest East from atop the blocks of Ghim Moh Edge.

Great views of the East West Line too.

From the flats of Ghim Moh Edge, I ventured onto the Ulu Pandan Park Connector, which runs next to the canalised Sungei Ulu Pandan. As I walked down the park connector, I tried to find a way into the forest. The undergrowth was thick with grass and shrub, with vegetation exceeding my height, so I had to look carefully.

Then, around 500 metres from Ghim Moh Edge, I found it - a faint path leading up the slope into the woods.

I climbed up the slope and saw that the path led into the woods.

This was a hiker’s path through Dover Forest East, marked out by either red and white tape, or white tape. It looked like it had been used for years.

The path roughly ran east to west, parallel to the park connector. I headed east for a short while, reaching a makeshift bridge over a still stream.

I decided not to risk crossing the bridge and destroying it in the process, so I turned and headed west instead. I stayed on a westerly course for the rest of the way.

From the park connector, the forest looked thick and impregnable, but once on the path, the undergrowth was quite manageable. It wasn’t thick at all, the tape was a handy guide forward, and if I followed my compass, there was no chance of losing my way. In terms of hiking and pathfinding abilities required, they were “amateur”.

Just follow the path...

Some trees looked like they had stood for decades.

Totoro’s seat?

A final bash through a thick patch of grass, and I was out! I emerged at the covered walkway connecting Dover MRT Station to the private estate of Holland Grove.

The station, opened in 2001, is a futuristic landmark looming over the walkway and a large, open field, which serves as a buffer between Dover Forest West and Dover Forest East.

A stream cut the field in two. To the left was Dover Forest West; to the right, Dover Forest East.

A woman was playing with her dogs in the open space; my guess was that she was a nearby resident. I wonder for how long more she’ll get to enjoy the natural greenery.

Next time: Dover Forest West.

Missing the forest for the trees

It’s unfortunate that barely a week after the Government proudly unveiled its Green Plan 2030, which includes the targets of planting one million trees by 2030 and adding 1,000 hectares of “green spaces” by 2035, came the startling revelation that 4.5 hectares of woodland in the Kranji Forest, a green lung in the northwest of Singapore, had been felled without authorisation, right under the noses of JTC Corporation.

Kranji Forest no more. Credit: Brice Li.

For at least the near future, I foresee that all attempts by the authorities to promote their green initiatives would be shot down by snide remarks about “chopping down a forest” or something to that effect.

Eventually, the blame will be apportioned, and someone’s knuckles will be rapped. But a forest ecosystem destroyed by error will take decades to recover, if at all.

The silver lining of this sorry debacle is that it has shown that popular awareness of the importance of conserving whatever’s left of Singapore’s natural heritage has grown by leaps and bounds over the last 10 to 20 years. People are more discerning now, realising that carefully-manicured parks cannot compare to natural forest, woodland, or even shrub - the latter are far more valuable in terms of the quality and diversity of wildlife they sustain, even if they had flourished for only a few years, as was the case for the Kranji Forest. More are also demanding that the authorities consult the community and listen to their feedback before taking action, rather than expect them to go with the flow after decisions have been made in an ivory tower conference room.

From now on, thanks to online resources and social media, every significant clearance - or potential clearance - of forest cover will be scrutinised and discussed. First Clementi Forest, then Dover Forest, then Kranji Forest, and next: A patch of forest south of Lower Seletar Reservoir, lying inside military training grounds.

The forest clearance can be seen clearly from the Orchid Country Club, on the opposite side of Lower Seletar Reservoir.

At about time. Because planting one million trees in artificially-created parks means nothing if we lose all our remaining natural forests. That would truly be missing the forest for the trees.

“Falling through the windows”

Chanced upon this short essay submitted to The Straits Times by a Secondary 3 Changkat Changi Secondary School student in 1978 (he / she would be 58 years old now).

The author wrote this at a transition in Singapore’s post-independence history - the Republic was in the midst of constructing New Towns filled with high-rise flats, while clearing rural kampungs and agricultural communities; however, the island still had plenty of both. Hence, it was the opportune time to weigh the pros and cons of living in either habitat.

What tickled me was the innocent manner in which the student wrote about the “dangers” of living in high-rise flats: Little children “may fall through the windows”, while “people living on the higher floors tend to throw rubbish and things down through their windows”.

Also, the author was one of a small group of students who lived on one island and studied in another! He / she lived in Pulau Tekong Besar, but went to school on the mainland.

A Malay village in Pulau Tekong Besar. Credit: Pinterest.

Pulau Tekong Besar’s residents were resettled to the mainland by the late 1980s.