Colorado - Grand Canyon (Chilled)

February 2002 (a long time ago) I learnt that Chris Sladden was putting together a Grand Canyon trip (a chartered commercial trip with Flagstaff based ‘Outdoors Unlimited’) – it didn’t take much prevaricating to put my name down.

Over Two years passed before I met my fellow paddlers at the Luxor hotel in Las Vegas – a more unlikely venue for a meeting of river runners I couldn’t imagine.

It turned out that there were to be 7 kayakers, 2 C1 paddlers and 15 rafters – a party of 24. A bus ride to Marble Canyon Lodge (near the Lees Ferry put in) and we met the Outdoors Unlimited crew of 9. There would be 6 Oar rafts (to carry the gear and beer, together with surplus rafters), one paddle raft and two safety kayakers. The group now stood at 33 – an armada. For the next 15 days this motley bunch of misfits of various sizes, shapes, ages, nationalities and backgrounds would forge a river community on a float down one of the world’s great canyons.

Words and images fail to adequately capture the essence of a trip down the Colorado through the Grand Canyon. The journey is much more than the paddling – it’s the magnificent scenery, the desert environment, the geology and wildlife, the hikes in spectacular side canyons, the new friendships made on the way, the tranquillity of kipping under the stars on pristine river beaches a mile below the earth’s surface well away from any gadgets and mobile phones.

The River

For around 270 miles, from Lees Ferry to Lake Mead, the Colorado cuts through the giant uplifted land mass of northern Arizona, exposing successive rock strata (down to the 1.7 billion year old Vishnu Schist) during it’s passage. The canyon reaches a giddy depth of one mile. The river itself has an average width of 300’, and reaches over one hundred feet in depth. At the time of our Journey (May) the river levels were a low to medium flow of around 400 cumecs (varying during the day with the releases from Lake Powell) The temperature was not too hot, the sky was a continuous blue and the water clear (not the muddy red silt laden flows that give the Colorado its name). Everything about the Grand Canyon is big – and it takes a few days to become adjusted to the scale.

The river drops around 1700’ during its journey – an average of around 8’ per mile, but most of this fall is taken up by the 165 rapids which account for less than 10% of the 270 miles. With a 15 day float, we would encounter an average of 11 rapids each day. The majority of these are big-water read-and-run grade 2 to 3+ wave trains, perhaps with one or two easily avoided holes and pour-overs – ‘big water = big lines’ holds true for most.

More often than not the rapids are wide open and you can decide how big you want to go – aim for the hair line through crashing waves and holes or cut the top laterals and aim for the smaller flows well away from the action. Indeed, the majority are so friendly that it wasn’t long before everyone was choosing to ‘go big’ dropping into the wave holes just for the crack.

Some rapids, up to grade 4+, however, require a little more respect and scouting (e.g. Hance, Crystal, Granite, and Lava). Indeed, the latter appeared quite daunting from a view point some 200’ above the river – meaty holes, fearsome laterals, huge crashing waves and a narrow line through these on river right. Over the ‘flats’, the river still swirls along at around 4 mph - making the sections between rapids both relaxing (floating along staring at the awesome canyon walls towering above) and entertaining (try waltzing in the same whirlpool as an 18’ oar raft!).

A Canyon Day
The Crew from ‘Outdoors Unlimited’ were a tireless and highly professional bunch that organised camp routines and practices that kept all healthy and well fed and ensured that there would still be fresh steaks and vegetables, and ample grog even on the 15th day (with no re-supplying feasible). Days floated by with the river, there were too many experiences and incidents, too many hikes and rapids, to recount in an article such as this. Perhaps it is best to describe a typical ‘Canyon Day’.

The Coffee Conch goes at around 5:30 – by this time it is light, although the sun will not have hit the high canyon walls above. But the Canyon Wrens descending call (such a big sound for such a small bird) will have heralded the day and dragged me from a sound sleep before the Conch is blown. (5:30 sounds early now, but on the Colorado we had soon ditched our watches and were operating entirely on Conch-Time)

I crawl out of my bedding roll (stuffing it directly into a dry bag before scorpions have had a chance to invade) and take a wake-up dip in the cold river – emerging refreshed but blue. I Wander down to the camps kitchen area to pour my first bucket of coffee and, perhaps, a slice of melon. If the urge is on me I sip the coffee while chatting in the ‘Groover line’ – with 33 campers there is almost always a queue to use the ‘facilities’ (ammo box behind a rock) in the morning.

By my second bucket of coffee the breakfast conch sounds – muffins, hash browns, bacon and a couple of over-easy eggs (or perhaps pancakes and syrup) and I’m set for the day. Pack up the dry bag and take it down to the communal tarp. By 7am the tarp holds a mountain of gear ready for loading to the rafts. I don the paddling kit and spend a few moments washing the red Colorado sand from my kayak.

“Hey y’all - last call for the boot bag” – 33 pairs of boots or sandals for the side canyon hikes are hastily shoved into the communal bag.

“Last call for water” - those who haven’t already done so, fill water bottles from the filtered water container. It’s going to be another hot day; buckets of filtered and treated river water will be needed to keep all hydrated

“Last call on the Groover” - The line for the ‘facilities’ should be diminished by now, the rocket box is normally the last bit of kit to be packed away and loaded. For those unfortunate enough to have missed the call – there’s always the ‘Day Tripper’, a small ammo can with all the essentials. Park rules - what you take into the canyon has to come out with you.

By 07:30 we are loaded and set off down the river. We paddle for may be an hour before pulling over at a beach. A hike is planned this morning – perhaps 3 hours – returning to the river hopefully before the sun has become too fierce. It’s still early in the year, but day time temperatures will be 300 to 350C. The Boot bag is broken open, we fill two water bottles each, don hats and sun screen and set off on the trail up a side canyon.
The water sculptured rock closes in on us and we soon lose sight of the Colorado 500’ below us. The trail continues precariously along the steep canyon sides, a Mule deer cocks its head at our passing but is undisturbed; lizards scamper away from our feet. We climb on until we reach a waterfall at the head of the canyon.

We can go no further – a dip in the pool below the fall washes away the sweat. Scarlet Monkeyflowers and ferns cling to the canyon wall drinking in the spray. Many of the cactus are flowering at this time of the year. We pass around the GORP (a tub or granola, oats, raisins and peanuts) and set off back down the trail to the boats. A couple of crew missed the hike and have prepared lunch – a table groans under ingredients for tortilla wraps.

We have about 15 miles of paddling to cover in the afternoon. Within a few minutes we reach the first wave and jostle to catch it on the fly. The river flows are big and fast, it’s not always easy to catch the waves – but when it happens, particularly where the wave is steep and crashes, the rewards are immense.
Occasionally we find an eddy-served wave and let the rafts drift on ahead of us while we pause for play. We reach a larger rapid and clamber up the bank for a vantage point to inspect. This one is long, technical and, of course, big. The line is discussed – not always easy to discern in the maelstrom of white. Break out behind the first evil pourover into the ‘duck pond’ (Ha ha!), then move left through crashing waves away from two huge holes – cut back right for a ride down the wave train. With dry mouths we peel out and attempt to hold the line (which looks so different at river level). All through – we eddy out and watch the rafts – hoping for a flip – but just whoops of triumph as they all make it through.

We pull into camp at around 5pm, form a ‘baggage line’ for unloading the rafts and then explore the beach for a suitable ‘sleeping pod’ (an area of sand between boulders on a river moraine) and layout our tarp. Beer nets have been floating behind the rafts for the last hour, the Buds are chilled. A dip to clean off and a time for quiet reflection or for exploring the environs, chasing Desert spiny Lizards or trying to coax a Chuckwalla out from a crevice in the rock. A game of Horseshoes is underway.

The Conch sounds for snacks (crackers, dips, olives, fruit). A few more beers and the conch sounds again for dinner (tonight, trout and trimmings). A fire is lit, Will gets out his guitar, and we spend an hour or two before crawling into our bedding roles. The moon is bright, the stars awesome, another great Grand Canyon day – there are plenty to follow.
A ‘trip of a lifetime’ without a doubt – awesome, mellow, chilled. Thanks to Chris Sladden for putting it all together, to the crew from Outdoors Unlimited and to all the ‘punters’ for the superb company.
(Published in "Canoeist" Magazine August 2004)

2.2 into 2 Won't Go

The Walkham, feeding into the Tavy (below Tavistock) had been on my ‘hit list’ for a few seasons - but somehow I had never quite managed to get it together – a grade 3 paddle from Bedford Bridge (Walkham) to Denham Bridge on the Tavy. There’s something I really enjoy about a mellow paddle on uncharted waters.

The first mile was a little disappointing – a grade-1/2 bimble. After this the river began to cut in, the gradient increased and we began to enjoy fairly continuous grade 2 and 3 rapids - falling well within everyone’s ‘comfort level’. An excellent training ground for ‘eddy hopping’ with lots of small drops and micro eddies all along the way

The only drop of particular note was a 1 meter drop/slot affair with an ominous horizon line where the river disappears down a narrow slot. Peeling out to the eddy below and looking back at some anxious expressions at the top and I figured that this might provide a little back-looping entertainment – Hailing Tim down he ran the slot at an unintentional 170 degree edge – heavy bracing, through the slot and out – no worries. Karl had a good line and joined me in the eddy.

Honestly I didn’t push him out of this eddy, despite what he says. I merely intimated that the eddy was, perhaps, not quite large enough for the both of us and that, perhaps, it might be best if he moved downstream, through the narrows, to find his own eddy. My attention returned to those waiting to make the run when I heard a call from behind

"Graham, I seem to be stuck"

Perhaps I should explain that Karl was paddling his relatively new I3 – now this is a short boat (something around 2.2M), but Karl had failed to appreciate that some Dartmoor Creek narrows don’t reach that giddy width. 2.2 into 2 won’t go – and it didn’t when he tried to negotiate the narrows broadside.

Now, I have never known anything really phase Karl and, sure enough, he was sitting in his broached boat, at a 45 degree edge with a broad grin coupled with a slightly puzzled expression.

We all gathered on the bank staring down at ‘Calm Karl’ and all of us now adopted his puzzled expression. He was comparatively stable – the deck was holding, jumping ship might well have worsened the situation. We attached a couple of slings to the stern first and tried to budge it – but no go, we fed a line to the bow (on the opposite side of the river) and tried pulling across – but that didn’t work.

Eventually Tim, who had crossed the river further downstream, was able to release the bow and the day (and Karl) was saved. I was somewhat relieved when the others elected to walk the slot and so avoid a repeat performance of what could have proved an epic

Zambezi - Old Crocs Tour

Any paddler should know what the Zambezi is like .. it features in many of the mags and on many of the videos. Often billed as the best white water run on the planet - big warm water, huge bus swallowing holes, evil whirl pools, classic surf waves … and crocodiles! – how the hell did I end up there?

Well, thanks to my family, I was up for a trip in 2002 somewhere and all I had to do was identify the location. Mmm .. Nepal? .. I would love to go there again. Chas was selling his IZ230 on Mark Rainsley's web site message board .. I indicated that I might be interested for a ‘Nepal in the Fall’ trip. People then started to butt in:

Mark asks .. "What are you paddling this time Graham, … the Zambezi is good in October"

I reply, with no uncertainty, "The Zambezi is beyond me"

Mark points out that, according to Si, it’s easier than the Fu in Chile

Chas says .. "the IZ230 is sold, but can I come to Nepal/Zambezi with you"

Then I watch the video "Wicked Liquid" again (and again, and again) until, eventually, I’m beginning to visualise me there, surfing those big waves just like a pro.

Of course, I also received much sound advise from certain members of Ringwood Canoe Club – generally on the insanity theme. (These same members were heard planning the divvying-up of my kit should I not return!)

I started to collect some information …There was an outfit called TheZambezi.com, set up last year by Muzza (NZ) and Andrew (Sven) Bolton (UK) who had already run 5 or 6 kayak trips down the Zambezi. …. October is the end of the dry season out there, the river will be at its lowest (oh, great, nice and easy).

So we went, Chas and I, flying out to Livingstone (via Joburg) at the end of October. Those kind people at British Airways taking our Kayaks for nothing (although we were severely limited with our weight allowance of 23Kg)

Sitting in the departure lounge I started to read the ‘lonely planets’ guide to Zambia. This included a special section on Adrenaline Sports …

"Down stream from Victoria Falls, the rapids of Batoka Gorge can be run by kayaks … if you know what you’re doing (like really know)"

Did I ‘really know’ what I was doing? – of course, the author wasn’t a paddler, what did he know!, besides, Chris Wheeler had told me it’s big … but easy (but then, he would!). I read on ….

"August to October : the main rafting period. Water continues dropping. The later the season, the bigger the rapids, and the braver the rafters"

That can’t be right can it?, the rapids get bigger when the river level drops? I’m already through passport control – there’s no turning back and I obviously don’t know what I’m doing …….

Having flown overnight and made the connection in Jo’burg for our onward flight we arrived at Livingstone, Zambia, early afternoon. Watching the unloading of the plane we were relieved to see the boats had also made it. The customs official was busy on her radio as Chas breezed through, but she finished her call and raised her eyes just as I was approaching the door carrying the kayak. She wanted a payment of around £350 deposit to bring the boat in to Zambia – this would be returned to me when I left the country – but as 2.3 million Kwathca! Fortunately Sven had arrived to pick us up and, after some debate, managed to sort things out.

Frazzled and travel weary we finally made it to Fawlty Towers backpackers lodge for a few hours rest. Here Chas and I (later to be known as the ‘old crocs’) met Bryan McKenzie from Canada, the third and final paying member of the trip.

Preparation and Training
Of course, before tackling a river like the mighty Zambezi it’s important to prepare and train adequately – to become a perfectly honed and fit paddling machine. Consequently, Chas and I had grabbed a few hours at Woodmill weir during the summer – eventually developing skills sufficient to stay upright, and even throw a few ends.

This training regime was supplemented by extended bath times - following (what later proved to be sound) advise from fellow paddlers "for the Zambezi – practice holding your breath" I ditched the shower in favour of deep baths with plenty of bubbles (to simulate the Zambezi's aerated water) and a stop watch. – at least I smelt good.

Final preparation was to be undertaken on the evening of our arrival. This comprised a Booze Cruise on the Upper Zambezi (countless Mosi beers while watching elephants, Hippo, Impala and Zebra, etc. from the deck of the ‘African Queen’) followed by a drinking session at ‘Hippos Bar’ where Bryan, Chas and I got to know our two guides Sven and Ben Brown.

The first Run of Batoka Gorge
The after effects of the long flight and of the boozy booze cruise the evening before was, perhaps, not the best grounding for our first run of the 24km Batoka Gorge (Rapids #1 to 18). We signed the indemnity forms over a hearty breakfast at Muzza’s place, then took the long climb down the gorge to the ‘Boiling Pot’ at the foot of Victoria Falls – this has to be the most awesome river put-in on the planet.

My knees were trembling when we reached the bottom, where the porters had left our boats. Rapid #1 "back against the wall" was directly ahead of us – here the 100m deep gorge pulls a sharp 90 degree turn, causing water to pile into the wall. We all made the ferry, avoided the wall pasting and I began to relax. The next two rapids "Between Two Worlds" and "Bits and Pieces" were relatively straight forward, and there were long pools between each of the rapids … hey .. this is going to be OK. But …

Within a few more minutes we reached #4 "Morning Glory" and the first of the major rapids. We got out and looked at this one – a long rapid with a couple of prominent holes. The line was discussed – eddy out at top right, skirt the first hole, power to the left of the wave train, line up for the bottom hole and, hopefully, get spat out into the pool below. I got the first bit right but, needless to say, the rest of the rapid I tackled in an inverted position – I rolled up spluttering at the bottom, conscious that a big croc lived in the pool below, not quite sure what had happened but knowing that I had seriously misjudged the power of the water.

No harm, let’s try the next - #5 "Stairway to heaven", billed as the largest commercially rafted rapid in the world. Here a steep ramp runs between a 15’ pour-over on the right and the infamous ‘Catchers Mitt’. Disappearing over the horizon line, heart in mouth, I was confronted with more of the white stuff than I could previously have imagined – a huge, seemingly impenetrable mountain of water. "Look for the window"…someone must have pulled the curtains…no, there it is, power through, wow.. still upright… awesome.

#6 "The Devil’s Toilet Bowl" was next (who makes up these names?) – a steep drop skirting a mean hole, and then …

#7 "Gulliver’s Travels" the longest (650M) and most technical of all the Zambezi rapids. We stood on the bank for a long time here trying to fix the line in my mind .. eddy out right, ferry centre, skirt the Diagonal, miss the crease, catch the tongue flowing river right, just bypassing a crashing hole, and then… into the ‘Land of The Giants’ – a huge crashing wave train and some fairly inevitable quiet time here. Not an easy rapid, this one – it’s length, the string of moves you have to pull together and the punishing (but exhilarating) giants was amazing.

#8 gives you the options of the mighty ‘Muncher’ in the centre, or the "Star Trek" run (going boldly where no man has gone before) – or a sneak route between, if you get it right!

#9 "Commercial Suicide" – no way – not for paddlers of our ability anyway, although we watched Ben breeze it while we walked

#10 – a comparatively easy wave train but with the intimidating name of "Gnashing Jaws of Death"!

#11 "Overland Truck Eater" is, at higher levels, a unique barrelling and surfable wave but, sadly, at these levels it proved to be a big hole followed by some angry boils that toyed with me for ages, tail spinning, rolling and eventually releasing me unscathed.

#11B, 11C, 12A and, finally, we had reached the infamous 12B (the middle of the ‘Ugly Sisters’), said by many to be the finest play wave in the world. At the low levels now, however, it was not at its best – very steep, crashing and unforgiving. Disappointed that I didn’t manage to get on the wave at all on this first occasion (Later in the week I was rewarded with a few really exhilarating, but short, rides here)

#13 "The Mother" was a comparatively simple yet huge wave train (big air here when my boat left the water). But 14 through to 18 passed in a blur – punch drunk and battle weary I was, at this stage, running on empty and autopilot – crashing through ‘The Narrows’, ‘Washing Machine’, ‘The Terminators’, ‘Judgement Day’ and, even, ‘Oblivion’ without major mishap (although plenty of tip-ups).

We arrived at the get out knackered but elated, to start the half-hour near vertical climb out of the gorge to camp at the top. A load of paddling experiences and adrenaline in just one day! It was hot and muggy as we pitched our tents. Thunderstorms accompanied our steaks and beer. Despite the hard basalt ground I drifted off to sleep re-running Gullivers Travels – but, in my dreams, I had a perfect line!

Back for more punishment
The following two days were spent re-running sections of the gorge (1-13, 11-21), returning to Fawlty Towers each night. We were beginning to get used to the power of the Zambezi, it’s whirlpools and boils, the rapids and their lines. #4 and #7 continued to give me pastings, and the ‘Catchers Mitt’ caught me once but we were beginning to relax and enjoy the other aspects of the gorge, its scale, beauty and wildlife. Baboons, Vervet Monkeys and Rock Dassies scampered along the banks, Black Eagles and Kites soared above us. We were even getting used to the climbs out of the gorge each day.

A day of rest and recovery – catching up on sleep and chilling at Fawlty Towers and we were ready for the ‘Multi-Day’ Us 5 paddlers were now joined by Davis, rowing a gear raft, and we took three days to paddle from the Boiling Pot, down through the gorge and to Moemba Falls, some 25kms beyond the last of the numbered rapids (#25). The awesome river running was now complimented by beautiful river beach camping, excellent camp cuisine, classic African dawns and dusks, the Zambian trots! and paddling through Croc. Country ….

Paddling as a ‘healthy herd’

While crocodiles are around in some of the pools within the Batoka Gorge and, indeed, we had seen one or two, these are generally small and few in number. However, for the final 25km push from rapid 25 to Moemba Falls Crocs become more numerous. On this day the four remaining kayakers (Chas, suffering a dodgy stomach, was lounging around in the raft sipping Dioralyte and iodine cocktails) adopted a different approach to the previous days. We paddled fast, as a tight group, through the long slack water sections, trying to give the impression that we were a healthy herd, continually scanning the banks for signs of crocs, ready to "paddle like f . . . ." if we saw one slip into the water. We took breathers at each of the fourteen rapids along the way. In reality, we only saw three crocs all day – but I must confess to a slight (and, I’m sure irrational), raising of the heart beat all day!

We pulled in to the final take out above Moemba Falls, cleared baboon shit from the rocks to sit and stare at the gnarly water of Lower Moemba. . While Ben, the only one with any inclination to run these falls, scouted the lines and rehearsed his strokes, I again returned to the ‘did I really know what I was doing?’ question. Yes, I think I did. I took some beatings, I took a swim, but I had enjoyed everything. Nyami Nyami (the Zambezi river god) had, perhaps, played with me a little but, in the end, had granted me a safe passage and a fantastic trip.

If your comfortable on grade 4 and have a really dependable roll then the Zambezi has to be an ‘ultimate’ trip. TheZambezi.com did us proud. Sven and Ben (and Muzza and Donna) looked after us well, both on and off the water, they organised all the logistics so that all we had to do was enjoy the paddling and the gorge.

If your up for it - get to it
(Published in "Canoeist" Magazine February 2003)

A Stroll in the (gnarly Scottish) Park

Easter 2002, I plugged into Chas’s Scotland week

Travelling up to Fort William on the Saturday I joined the party in a pub in town – a motley crew of 6 of various shapes, sizes and ages – but all with a desire to throw themselves down gnarly drops and falls. There was Chas Couchman, Tim Rex, Steph Druits, Andy Levick, Graham Dunn and (non-paddler) Tom.

For the 4 days I spent with this lot there proved to be more beer than water. Consequently, our paddling was limited to those runs that still work when rivers are low. The Etive, Roy Gorge, Fechlin and Spean Gorge, however, all provided for some great grade 3 to 4+ entertainment – lots of tight technical paddling, gnarly holes, drops and falls with names like ‘Head Banger’, ‘Multiple Choice’, ‘The Brothers Grim’, ‘The Constriction’, ‘Fairy Steps’, ‘Witches Cauldron’, ‘Letter box’, ‘Crack of Doom’, ‘Crack of Dawn’, and ‘Big Mans Falls’ (to name a few).
These runs are all short, very scenic, and characterised by blind corners and drops often requiring bank inspection and protection – and there are a few nasty undercut 5’s that are best portaged. We had plenty of back-loops, a few swims and scraped knuckles but Chas still insisted on describing most runs as ‘A Stroll in the Park’

Family River Fun

Over the last three or four years we have taken our summer hols in France - and these have always included a few days paddling the French rivers including the Dordogne, Ardeche, Ciron, Dronne, Chassezac, Lot and Aveyron.

While we always travel with a couple of kayaks, with 6 of us, these need to be supplemented with the hire of boats. We normally opt for the typical unsinkable plastic Rotomod canoes that seat 2 or 3 - but have hired more traditional 'old towns' and 'sit-on-tops'.

Confined to the school hols, some river sections are very crowded - the Ardeche, for example, is a real circus with fleets of yellow and pink plastic canoes (most manned by complete novices) floating (often up-side-down) in a constant stream of chaos. However, if you select your river section carefully you can end up with the river to yourself.

Last year we were in Aveyron and the Upper Lot - a river that is dam controlled and therefore allows for some good grade 2+ paddling even in the August school hols. We spent 4 separate days on the river - and when we got the dam releases right, the river filled as fast as the Treweryn and gave levels that were comparable with the Dart, with plenty of play waves, (but at 30 degC a much more enjoyable experience! - have you ever felt like diving in to cool down on a Dart trip!).

There’s a great play hole at Estaing (used for French Freestyle competitions) – Finny was catapulted a good 6’ off the boat when we went down this on sit-on-tops. At Entraygues, 15 minutes from our Gite, I found another play wave that I could enjoy all to myself, especially for early morning sessions before breakfast.

This year (2001) we were staying 50 miles further East and tried the river Aveyron – which offered great scenery, plenty of chutes, a slalom course, and some pleasant grade 2 paddling

Nepal: Sun Kosi and Tamur

The Sun Kosi is billed by Peter Knowles as "one of the 10 best whitewater rafting trips in the World. Big rapids, warm water, beautiful scenery and great camping make this a classic multi-day river trip. A great trip for intermediate and advanced kayakers"

Kathmandu proved to have changed little in the 18 years since I had last been there - still vibrant, colourful, noisy, smelly, still the horns of rickshaws and the incessant approaches from street vendors "tiger balm / rickshaw / hashish / cheap hotel … sir" - I loved it. We spent a day sight seeing and organising supplies and kit before heading off to the river the following day - a short 3 hours away from the city.

The Sun Kosi flows East from Kathmandu, forming the watershed for most of Eastern Nepal. It drains the highest mountains in the world before emerging into the Northern plains of India where it joins the Ganges.

We put in near Balephi on the Upper Sun Kosi, some 30 kms from the Tibetan border. Our trip was to take us some 280 kms to Chatra, close to the Indian border.

The paddling starts gently and gradually builds up. The first two days at grade 2/3 give plenty of opportunity to warm up and get used to the volume of water. Each of the following days saw one or two major rapids (Meatgrinder, Hakapur, Jaws, High Anxiety, El Wasto, Jungle Corridor, Big Dipper to name a few) together with many smaller quieter rapids with play waves and friendly holes.

The volume of water increased as each major tributary joined us to reach around 800 Cumecs at the Jungle Corridor. This was BIG volume water - huge wave trains, swirling eddies, whirlpools, bus swallowing holes and grabby 'funny water'.

Once adjusted to this volume of water, however, the rapids proved, in the main, very straightforward - while there were huge holes to avoid the lines were generally obvious and were little more than roller coaster rides along huge wave trains.

There were exceptions of course. Hakapur (G5) is perhaps the meanest fall on the river and I experienced the kind of whooping you get from missing your line in big water - I clipped a hole at the run in, rolled up just in time to crash backwards into Hakapurs maw which promptly caved my deck in and off leaving me pirouetting vertically in a swamped boat with little option than a long hard crashing swim. (After watching my efforts all other Kayakers elected to walk this one!)

The Tamur flows into the Sun Kosi shortly before Chatra. Having completed the Sun Kosi we bussed up to Mulghat and spent a day running the 25kms back down to the confluence. This proved the best days paddle I think I have ever had - 5 hours of almost continuous big volume grade 4/4+ rapids. About 45 rapids in all, most 'read and runnable' but some requiring careful scouting.

By this stage I had learnt lots about paddling big water and Ash's Ashram provided a great finale - a long technical rapid with several 'must-make' moves - what a blast!

A normal day saw us paddling from around 10am to 4pm - under scorching sun. Nights were spent camping under the stars on fine sandy river beaches. Almost invariably local children would appear from nowhere and would sit for hours watching the goings-on. Evenings were spent preparing meals, sitting and chatting around fires with beers and Rum punch. Sometimes we shared beaches with dead bodies or large spiders on other occasions we would wander up to a local temple or shower under a waterfall.

We finished the trip with a another day in Kathmandu - washing the sand from our kit/hair, eating fine steaks, spending rupees and lapping it all up before we had to return to our real lives. I had crammed a load of fun, a wealth of experience and memories into a short two weeks I would advise anyone to do the same! You don't have to be a 'hair boater' to paddle in Nepal.

Top Slot Drop Fun

I hadn't paddled the Erme for a couple of years, and my last encounter with this steep, technical grade 4 gorge included a fairly frightening experience on what is know as the 'drop and slot' (I had vowed not to run that particular fall again).

I joined Victor, Andy and James from Poole Harbour CC for this year’s trip. Technically it was a Solent CC trip but, having tied my boat on the rack on the Saturday night Mike Tonkin phoned to cancel. Having then removed my boat from the rack, Victor phoned after 11pm to say he was going anyway. Increasingly, 3 clubs get together to muster up enough bods for this kind of trip.

It proved to be low conditions, just above 'paddleable' limit - but it still provided a lot of fun with some very tight and steep falls and much 'boofing' off slabs. The drop and slot was no problem.

But we found an even better gorge to paddle in the afternoon - awesome (but I have promised not to divulge it's location to anyone!!)