The journey back to Kathmandu though only 60 miles or so
took about five hours. We ran into
traffic in the city, which is a mixture of multiple different trucks, busses,
three wheeled taxis, motorcycles, tractors, bicycles and the rare private
car.
The view the boats had traveling through Nepal, best seats in the house!
Beautiful Nepali countryside
Once back in KTM on my birthday I thought it would be a
party, unfortunately I was too tired to do anything. I attribute it to the 30th
bday. I made a few phone calls, ate some
dinner and went to bed after packing for the next adventure that would be for an
indefinite amount of time. I love trips
like this where all you bring is what you can take down the river in your kayak
including river gear, street clothes, sleeping bag and pad and food. We left early in the morning for the Trisuli
River. Before coming to Nepal my friend
Monica told me not to worry about the Trisuli River, its only class III and
mellow class III at that. When we
arrived, we found a swollen river, the trash circled around in the eddy in a
swirling mass all toward a big whirlpool and an eddyline about 2 feet
tall. I was guessing the CFS at
somewhere around 100,000 cfs thought it could have easily been much more. We played our way down the river and I paddled
waves bigger than I have ever seen.
These rapids on the river that I was told to skip made Hermit on the
Grand look like nothing. It was
awesome! So much fun! Overall the difficulty was class IV or so but
the features were amazing, most impressive the whirlpools, boils and eddylines –
oh and the waves that could swallow a bus.
We ate lunch at the luxurious Royal Beach Camp, an amazing riverside
camp with enormous beach, tents and cabins on the riverside, as well as a
restaurant and palapa bar.
Royal Beach Camp beach
another view of the Royal Beach Camp beach
The Trisuli is where Subash got his start. He would walk down the hill 45 minutes from
where he lived on his parent’s farm on the hillside to play in the river. As kids they would swim in the river during
more manageable flows and when he was 14 he got started kayaking. He soon fell in love with the activity that
changed his view of the river he could see dominating the valley below his home
and he came daily after school. Because of
the low elevation of the area the river is runnable year round, low water means
clear blue water and world class play features, monsoon means a massive river
hundreds of thousands of cfs. He assured
me that the flow we paddled it at was nowhere near as high as he had seen it,
telling me that in the summer when there is no work they often do full moon
floats of the big raging torrent. He
also told me that when he was a kid there was a flood that was huge, I don’t remember
the flow in cumecs but it worked out to be just a few cfs shy of a million cfs
by estimations. We had fun on the Trisuli, it was relatively
chill but HUGE and beautiful and the river has a lot of history in Nepal.
Every year on the Trisuli a kayak competition is held that
was for years sponsored by the British company Peak UK. The competition was a mixture of slalom,
freestyle and boatercross and it sounded like an awesome party with live music
every night, bonfires on the beaches along the river and everything else you
could imagine comes along with a proper boating festival. Three years in a row Subash’s boss, Maila
Grunig, the owner of GRG won the competition and a new boat from Riot who was
one of the competition sponsors. This
past year, after training hard on the freestyle in a 10 year old Prijon boat
and training hard every day when other people were off having fun, Subash won
the freestyle, and took 4th in the slalom and 6th in the
boatercross (or maybe the other way around) and took 1st place
overall at the event. He won the ability
to say that he was the Freestyle Champion of Nepal; he also received an award
that was Rider of the Year.
We stayed the night on the banks of the Trisuli River after
doing the upper and middle sections, repeating the more exciting middle again
the next morning. The takeout is at the
confluence with the Myrsyandi River, probably one of the most famous in all of
Nepal for its miles of continuous class IV/IV+ boulder gardens in a sparsely populated
agricultural valley with breathtaking views of Annapurna. If you talk to people anywhere in the world
and ask them what your favorite river is, there is a good chance that the Myrsyandi
will be on top of the list.
Unfortunately there have recently been a few dams constructed on the
river obstructing what was once a five day run. Either way the ultra high flows only allowed
us to paddle the rarely done lower canyon that is gorgeous, very steep and
quite committing despite its “roadside” nature – the road is about 500 vertical
feet up out of the canyon from the river but super fun! At this point this was the biggest we
whitewater we had seen but was all read and run class IV/IV+ with steep rapids,
huge, massive breaking waves, some scary whirlpools and eddylines and a constriction
wave set that came together in an amazing display of way too much water trying
to fit through the narrow canyon. It
would build and converge in the blink of an eye as the waves ricocheted off the
canyon walls and came together, exploding in the middle of the river forming a
wave that was 30 or 40 feet tall one second and a gaping maw the next. I’ve never seen a river feature like it. The
run was 7 miles or so but it only took us 40 minutes and before we knew it we
were drinking beers at the same takeout we had been at only just over an hour
before, looking for a bus to Pokhara.
Unloading some cerveza and trying to hold on tight
Another awesome shuttle ride
Mystical morning yoga beach
Oh boy, that thing is huge!
Lower Myrsyandi canyon, its big in there!
god of something at the Trusuli/lower Myrsyandi takeout
The local grub...
take out beers before loading the bus to Pokhara
The bus ride to Pokhara was another classic example of the
local Nepali transit system. The drive
is 90 km to the idyllic but quickly growing lakeside town with views of the
Annapurna Range 7000 meters above. In
the states that’s a quick hour drive on a road of similar conditions but here
we were lucky enough to find a local bus.
The bus stopped about every 12 feet to pick up someone or drop another
off, everyone including schoolkids – yep we were on the school bus as
well. At one point the bus stopped on
the side of the road and they told us to get off, they informed us that they
decided that though they had agreed they were going to go to Pokhara originally,
they would turn around now, business was that good. We switched to another bus of similar style
that was jam packed with locals all looking at me like I just came off
Mars. It was a really fun ride actually,
despite the terrible seat and we arrived in Pokhara just before dark after
somewhere between 6-7 hours. Yep, that’s
an average of about 15km per hour….that’s about 8 miles an hour.
This is a highway legal vehicle, very utilitarian and awesome but one of the reasons the Kathmandu air is so nasty and why it takes so long to get everywhere
We arrived in Pokhara and immediately felt at home. I was in a $4/night comfortable hotel room
next to where Subash’s friends own a rafting company and we went straight to
the local restaurant where all the Nepali river guides hang out for a Dal Baht
and some much deserved beers. We hung
out with a few of his friends who have been guiding rivers around the country
for 15 years or something, we talked about everything from boating, politics,
the geomorphology of the Himalaya and the beers flowed freely. We drank some Roxy, the local Nepali wine and
some vodka and Sprites, which is apparently a local favorite. By the time we decided to get out of the
restaurant, or rather we were encouraged to leave because they wanted to go to
sleep it was after 11 but after the drinks we were all excited and wanted to
make more new friends and I wanted to practice my newly learned Nepali. We attempted to go to the bar but were turned
away everywhere, apparently the night life shuts down at 11pm and everyone goes
to bed. I was sure we would try again
before we left Pokhara, so without anywhere to continue our night we dejectedly
went home and to bed.
The next day was mellow, we slept in and went to the Upper
Seti mid-morning. This river was much
smaller and though still really high made me feel like home. It was much more like a creek or small river,
the river a beautiful blue glacial milk flowing off Annapurna not far
away. The rapids were mostly class IV/IV+
with the occasional rapid that was depatedly a bit harder. It was a hoot, ripping down the mountain so
fast we hardly had time to stop and appreciate the incredible beauty. At one point, Subash was leading in a
playboat, got stopped in a hole and decided to do some violent cartwheels, I
boofed over him and the next few sticky ledge holes stopping 50 yards or so
downstream to watch him claw his way out of each hole only to get stuck in the
next because he didn’t have enough speed in his trusty Bliss Stick Rad that he
made look really fun on the big water, playing freely doing all kinds of
downstream play moves. This craft clearly
wasn’t the best craft for the high water Upper Seti, though the Nepali
freestyle champion made it work. I found out soon afterward that this river was home to some waterfalls I'd seen in pictures, this recently discovered gorge is not far upstream, offering some amazing creeking that I was assured was WAAAY to high for this time of year. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RpJeQjmhKwc The video is Josh Nielson, from NZ I believe.
Upper Seti River valley
One of the many Seti river gorges
dance party at the Seti takeout
After the Seti we had a mellow evening in Pokhara, ate some
Daal Baht with our hands and prepared for a trip the following morning on the
Kali Gandaki. The Kali Gandaki is a
very well known rafting run that,l like the Myrsyandi, has recently been
shortened by a large hydropower project.
The trip is still amazing, a three day wilderness trip through an
amazing jungle canyon with huge rapids, beautiful beaches and monkeys swinging
from the trees. This was to be the first
Kali Gandaki trip of the year because the water is still questionably high for
rafting and a big night of rain could leave the group stranded in the middle of
the canyon, clinging to the canyon walls hoping the water doesn’t wash everyone
away. The company that we were tagging
along with, Swissa, caters specifically to Israeli tourists and if any of you
have traveled internationally in Asia or South America, you know that these
tend to come in packs. Swissa found it
hard to turn away 20 paying clients despite the fact that trips aren’t usually
run for another few weeks so they sent a kayaker to do a scouting mission of
the river before the trip. He found a
great flow on his reconnaissance mission to the river and so it was a go. I was excited to have a chill trip on the
river, take it slow, have someone else cook food and hang out a bit. We met at the boathouse at 630 to load
everything for a close to 40 person, 3 night trip on top of a chartered 1970s
schoolbus. It was a fun dynamic, two
guides, a gear boat captain, the lead safety kayaker, and the head chef that
barked orders at the seven other young aspiring safety kayakers, seven extra
paddlers, and video guy who were also the ones brought along to do all the
dirty work unloading and loading rafts, setting up camp, and prep cooking. Subash helped and I tried to get in whenever
I could but at this point everyone was wondering why some random white guys was
at their boat house getting in the way, not eating warm, fresh pastries and
coffee with all the paying clients. It
was an impressive load once it was all roped down (no straps involved
whatsoever) and by 8am we were trying to get the always late Israelis on the bus
so we could head to the river.
A three to four ride through the beautiful Nepali
countryside, up over a big ridge and down along the Modi Khola (an awesome
class IV/V run that was questionably too high) led us to the river where we
unloaded everything, blew up the boats three 16’ expedition NRS rafts with a
single barrel pump, carried everything down to the river and geared up while
the clients sat in the shade and ate tuna salad, yelling “Lama Kacha” as their
key phrase every 2.2 seconds.
”Lama
Kacha” (pronounced lama caca) means “why like this” and is their
favorite phrase in the Hebrew language, used at least 10 times as much
as any other phrase. I started gaining
my rapport with the guides when we stopped for Daal Baht on the way to the
river, the guide pit stop and I sat down with them to eat, digging in with my
hands, then buying them cigarettes afterward.
At the river, I blew up rafts for an hour or so with their single barrel
pump and laid out helmets and PFD and carried gear to the river. They were starting to warm up to me. The Israelis were confused, wondering if I an
employee or a paying client. I did a
good job of avoiding the question, knowing that if I answered the truth – “really
I’m neither, I’m just here to get a free rafting trip with your hard earned and
saved money,” they wouldn’t warm up to me too much. After an eternity, we were on the
water. We rafted through some awesome
ocean sized waves and about a mile in got to the two biggest rapids of the run,
exciting nearly class V big water rapids with terrible consequence that the
rafters lined. Camp was shortly
afterward, about three miles into the run.
It was a beautiful beach in the jungle, a spring came off the wall
providing fresh water for cooking and washing off the gritty river water and we
got to hang out and enjoy the rest of the day on the riverside paradise. It was awesome to see how the Nepalis set up
camp, cooked, and did everything involved in multi day rafting trip with very
few of the “necessities we have in the states.”
They dig a hole for the groover in the sand, use rope for everything,
make their own tents and shelters from locally sourced materials, make their
own oars from trees in the jungle, make their own drybags from old rafts, make
their own tables and dish strainers (starting to see a trend here?). There was even a helmet that I persuaded the
trip leader not to use that had been cracked and stitched back together with
about 40 wire stitches.
Camp was amazing again, we arrived to a stream flowing through camp into a clear, warm pond of water and after setting up camp we all cleaned off in the lake. I realized that it was actually a part of the river, we were on an island and the creek a small part of the river. We all hung out while the Nepalis cooked and warmly greeted some local villagers that brought a basket full of beer, spirits, cigarettes, Roxy (homemade wine) and chocolate. The guides quickly bought all the cigarettes, we got a few beers and all the Roxy. Shortly after the villagers arrived, it started to sprinkle. The guides, a few of the helpers and the custies sat under the tarps, singing traditional Nepali songs, playing on the drums and drinking the Roxy while some of the crew cooked. It kept coming, they cooked in the rain and by the time the food was coming it was pouring. Dinner came, a few more sips of wine and I laid back under the tarp, fat and happy, fast asleep. Sometime in the middle of the night, in mid dream, I could hear the gear boat captain yelling frantically. I shot up and ran to the river to find that it was a raging torrent. We had pulled the rafts about 30 feet from the river but they were floating and not too far from making their way down to the takeout without us. I was lucky, very, very, very lucky. I had pulled my kayak up about 25 feet from the river, laid my gear all out to dry and didn’t think about it again. It hadn’t rained hard in days, I was ready to hang out and it didn’t even occur to me to pull my kayak up the hill to safe ground. Someone had woke up a few hours earlier to pee and say my kayak dangerously close to the river, they threw my gear my boat and drug it up the hill. When I got there, the place where I’d left it was well underwater and the kayak was again not far from the river. I must have been lucky that day, or my karma was good for making such good friends with everyone, or something but I didn’t lose my kayak, paddle, helmet, pfd, skirt, drysuit, first aid kit and wrap kit inside a watershed, or my spare paddle - my only loss was my third pair of socks since arriving in Nepal – I just couldn’t keep track of these things. I helped the guides hoist the rafts way further up onto our island and went back to bed, feeling an incredible sense of relief.
Getting ready at the putin, were packing boats, the crew eating something with Tuna in it
Camp 1, see the homemade oars, homemade shelter (spelled saltar in Nepali English), and gorgeous beach
The rafts, pulled well up out of the water
The second day was a legitimate day on the river and it was awesome! We slept soundly, well as well as can be
asked, I was sandwiched between 12 or 15 Nepalis all sleeping under one long
tarp. We were happy it didn’t rain, the
river was big but very manageable and we floated for the majority of the day
through big fun waves, avoiding massive ledge holes every so often and enjoying
waterfalls coming in from all directions, springs coming out of the walls and a
dramatic jungle canyon. I understood why
this was considered a classic. Kali
Gandaki it is said means something like black river and it surely lived up to
its name, heavy, dark, sediment laden water but apparently during the majority
of the rafting season, the water is clear blue and warm – which sounds like it
would only add to the appeal. We had
some fun carnage, one of the rafts flipped in a big wave hole that they
intentionally gutted and the 10 safety kayakers fought for a chance to help out
the rafters, it was great.
cool confluence shot, every major confluence is a holy site where they have temples, shrines and if you're lucky you may even get buried there
waterfalls are pretty, imagine living there?
storm building but no one is paying attention, too much fun!
Camp was amazing again, we arrived to a stream flowing through camp into a clear, warm pond of water and after setting up camp we all cleaned off in the lake. I realized that it was actually a part of the river, we were on an island and the creek a small part of the river. We all hung out while the Nepalis cooked and warmly greeted some local villagers that brought a basket full of beer, spirits, cigarettes, Roxy (homemade wine) and chocolate. The guides quickly bought all the cigarettes, we got a few beers and all the Roxy. Shortly after the villagers arrived, it started to sprinkle. The guides, a few of the helpers and the custies sat under the tarps, singing traditional Nepali songs, playing on the drums and drinking the Roxy while some of the crew cooked. It kept coming, they cooked in the rain and by the time the food was coming it was pouring. Dinner came, a few more sips of wine and I laid back under the tarp, fat and happy, fast asleep. Sometime in the middle of the night, in mid dream, I could hear the gear boat captain yelling frantically. I shot up and ran to the river to find that it was a raging torrent. We had pulled the rafts about 30 feet from the river but they were floating and not too far from making their way down to the takeout without us. I was lucky, very, very, very lucky. I had pulled my kayak up about 25 feet from the river, laid my gear all out to dry and didn’t think about it again. It hadn’t rained hard in days, I was ready to hang out and it didn’t even occur to me to pull my kayak up the hill to safe ground. Someone had woke up a few hours earlier to pee and say my kayak dangerously close to the river, they threw my gear my boat and drug it up the hill. When I got there, the place where I’d left it was well underwater and the kayak was again not far from the river. I must have been lucky that day, or my karma was good for making such good friends with everyone, or something but I didn’t lose my kayak, paddle, helmet, pfd, skirt, drysuit, first aid kit and wrap kit inside a watershed, or my spare paddle - my only loss was my third pair of socks since arriving in Nepal – I just couldn’t keep track of these things. I helped the guides hoist the rafts way further up onto our island and went back to bed, feeling an incredible sense of relief.
gifts from the villagers
Waiting for the groover is the same in Nepal, except this is just a hole in the ground, you can pee, poo and throw your tp in there. You can also see here that were on an island, the main flow headed to the left and the side channel to the right where the clear pond was the day before.
Rainy camp
Obligatory group shot, missing all the hard workers
The next morning we woke up and it was still
raining. Other than the midnight trip to the river I hadn’t
moved in 12 hours or so but the river had come up substantially. My
guess was that the flow had tripled, it
was probably somewhere around 35,000 from the 10,000 cfs when we
started. Everyone got up slowly and I kept thinking about
how lucky I was, I could have lost everything.
I also thought about how we were lucky we weren’t upstream of the stout
day of whitewater we had done yesterday, in the much more gorged in
canyon. I talked to another guide that
morning and he said two times in 12 years, they have had to hike
everyone and
everything back to the putin from camp one because of rain in the
night. That would involve hiking everyone and
everything about three miles through the thick jungle on a steep trail
then,
because the camp and trail are on river right and highway on river left,
blowing up the boats again and trying to ferry across the swollen beast
before
going back home. I was thankful that didn’t
happen to us. We had a slow morning but
left camp and floated a quick hour or so through an amazing canyon to
the
takeout. Apparently before the dam, this
was the best part of the canyon, wilderness, very steep canyon but
mostly
flat. One guy told me in the 12 years he
has been running it they had seen jaguar near the river multiple times.
It was rad but the takeout came too quickly. The takeout is an
interesting sight, they were
building a road up the canyon and the evidence was very apparent, we had
a few
somewhat close calls with rockfall but only those straying too close to
that
side of the river. Actually the rocks
were at least a hundred yards away but they careened down the steep
canyon wall
and plunged in the river with fury, making a very dramatic sound. The
takeout was immediately upstream of the dam which was letting everything
through at the high flow and it looked terrifying. The takeout was a
bit of work, walking up a
road about 400 yards with waterfalling side creeks that smelled
curiously like
poo. I did a few trips but on the last
trip was ushered away, they assured me that I should go hang out with
the
guides, the porters would carry the heavy stuff. We loaded a jeep to
take the gear up higher
where we loaded the bus and had an uneventful ride back to Pokhara
through the
amazingly gorgeous Nepali countryside, beautiful river valleys, dramatic
mountains and rice paddies everywhere with the occasional village along
the way
on a great road. Too soon the trip was
over and we were back in Pokhara.
The wave in this picture was a 10 foot ledge hole yesterday when we got to camp
Jon the Spaniard and the rafters, you can see a big scar from the road construction on the left
Cool confluence shot
Nepali guardrail
the guardrail view looking back up the road, dont get too close, its a long ways down
porter carrying the 16' NRS Expedition raft with the full power of his head and daal baht of course. This raft weights somewhere in the range of 190 lbs
riding up from the takeout to the bus with the boys on the back of the jeep
The dam that changed the river and the valley forever
The next day we ran a new run that had just been found,
right outside of town, the Fursi Kola.
It was a warm, clear, spring fed stream that was in a beautiful little canyon with
waterfalls cascading in and a few great little rapids and canyons. Because of the spring fed nature, it only runs during the monsoon when aquafirs are fully charged and not flowing when most boaters are in town. While getting ready, we saw a few of the
folks from the rafting trip and convinced them to duckie with us. We had two Nepalis, one American (me), one
Spaniard, one Israeli and one Chilean.
After the big, muddy frothing river, it was awesome to boat in nothing
more than a long sleeve shirt and spend plenty of time intentionally upside
down, enjoying the clean water. This was
the last time I wore my drysuit on the trip.
It felt wonderful.
The Fursi Kola
locals on the river, water buffalo. they look kinda scary but they are docile and you get used to them, they walk the streets like people.
shameless product plug for the Karnali, this boat is perfect for Nepal. I guess its probably not a coincidence that Pyranha named it after one of the most famous rivers in the country...