Bhutan - Drangme Chhu

Of all the countries I’ve traveled to, Bhutan was the one that people knew the least about. In fact most people didn’t even know where it was, only a few venturing a correct guess at Asia.



Kayakers of course know Bhutan as the Hidden Kingdom in The Himalaya, The Elite locale of kayaking for a privileged few and the last frontier in Himalayan first Descents. As the only Buddhist state in the world, Bhutan until recently had a policy which closed it from foreigners and tourists. It has now relaxed rules over the last four decades or so to permit a low impact high revenue Visa policy for Tourists. This means annual numbers are capped and Visas are pricey, so it’s hard to access for rat bag kayakers. I was fortunate however, to be invited by Marc Goddard of Bio Bio Expeditions to join as videographer for their Drangme Chhu Expedition in November 09.



Brainchild of chain smoking Kiwi, Dave Allardice, The Drangme Chhu is one of Bhutan’s last great un-run rivers. In an attempt to verify its commercial viability Dave and Marc had collaborated for nearly three years to get the trip up and running. Postponed in 2008 due to Indian insurgent activity on the border at the proposed take out, things had settled in 2009, so with a full batch of rafting guinea pigs and kayakers we landed in Thimpu, Bhutan.
Most capital cities in Asia fill the ears with incessant traffic, the nose with the products of that traffic and sights that range from charming to alarming. So to be in a capital that is peaceful is very welcome, with a population of just under 10,000 (half a million in Bhutan total) Thimpu sets the scene for the experience in Bhutan, tranquil, and surprisingly serene for this part of the world.



As with all river trips there is a combination of driving, hiking, discussion and faff before getting wet. Most of the logistical problems in Bhutan are limited to long drives over never ending passes which are a fantastic way to witness the diversity in ecosystems as the roads charge skyward for hours and then plummet alarmingly back down to valley bottoms again. It took us two days of driving to reach the put in of The Drangme Chhu at Trongsa. And right of the bat, aftershocks from a recent earthquake reinforce the groups ant size insignificance in This Himalayan environment.



Dave is not really sure how long the trip will take but has allotted about 7 days. So after day one of fairly continuous, significant pool drop class 5 we’re concerned about progress as we haven’t even reached the rapids that are marked on the map.
But like life, the journey of a thousand steps begins with the first one and so on day two we push off drifting under the ubiquitous foot bridges lined with Buddhist prayer flags and start breaking the river down one horizon line at a time.



Representative of most Himalayan runs the river evolves into classic pool drop rapids around massive boulders driven South by millenia of Himalayan monsoonal flows. And all is going well, tight lines, good communication and maybe a little luck until midway through the third afternoon. A long boulder field is punctuated by a large ledge hole. After a discussion filled with many different opinions the group decides to send Pierro first, who muscles through it.
He’s followed soon after by Dave, in his paddle boat, with not quite the same results. Catching the edge of the hole with a little angle it re-enters swiftly as it is turned and then violently flipped, raft #2 in the water and Marc on his way. While Marc takes a more central line, a stern mounted Oar frame gives him a little more momentum. Although this carries him through, the hole still wants tribute and so it spins the boat and the paddlers on the upstream edge cartwheel into the water. This is big carnage, one full raft of swimmers disappearing into the pool below which is followed soon after by the next rapid and now Marc trying to save 3 of his team.
This is a serious situation and as trip videographer…I’m delighted.




Needless to say the Bio Bio/ Ultimate Descents safety net swings into action with a combination of Safety Kayakers, cata-rafts and other rafts. The group is safely mopped up before they disappear off down stream, so they can lick their wounds and formulate war stories.

And as our group bonds the river matures from angry and desperate to more languid rapids in pristine Jungle until it finally flattens just shy of the Indian border. Here we jump in Indian Military vehicles to shuttle out into India, along the border and back into Bhutan in a neighboring catchment. And it is this juxtaposition, the franticness of India versus the composure of Bhutan that reminds us the serenity we have witnessed in Bhutan.

We’re back in Bhutan and we love it!

Thanks to Marc, Dave, Larry and Scott Maguire at The North Face.

Madagascar – Where The Wild Things were.

In a lifetime of sleeping in cramped, miserable, sweaty locations this one probably takes the biscuit.
As I settle onto my Thermarest I get that sinking feeling which surely means it’s going flat. As I sink to the ground, a stubbly rice paddy, it becomes obvious that I’m not in a flat section of it. It’s intolerably hot in the tent but to open it up would let in Malarial Mosquitoes. And now the impending evening storm is sending the humidity right up. Just when I think I’ve hit the bottom the rain finds a gap and starts dripping on my face. It’s going to be a long night.
It doesn’t get much more off the beaten track than Madagascar. There are no direct flights from Europe, only flights via Africa or in our case Mauritius which means it’s not a regularly visited destination. So I feel privileged to travel there with Brad Ludden, Rush Sturges and Josh Bechtel.



And now we’re just over mid way through (125km) our first decent of The Betsiboka river in Madagascar, a trip master minded by Brad. Ludden runs ‘First Descents’ a Kayaking camp for young adults with cancer in Colorado. His aim while in Madagascar is to create a film documenting the trials and tribulations of a real first descent. So for this project we chose The Betsiboka River, Madagascar’s longest drainage, which starts just north of the capitol Antananarivo and heads off into the heart of The Island and is discharged into the Ocean off The North East Coast.



The Myth of Madagascar is a pristine, unique, unspoilt ecosystem. The truth is that the Country has been ravaged by over population, poverty and a devastating slash and burn farming practice that has deforested huge parts of the island.
Nowhere is this more obvious than along the Betsiboka catchment where every hill without exception is scarred by deep erosion gulley’s carrying precious top soil through to the ocean. And it is this that defines the river with the distinct Orange colour of heavy sediment load. A silt load that so high that normal river features are stained with sediment making it harder to read.




But that’s just another of the variables when you chose to explore, no guarantees and no cushy nights sleep. Having spent so many nights in grotty places you’d have thought I ‘d have gotten used to it by now. But I know that The Betsiboka river will soften up the aches, clear the fog from my head and make my spirits soar. The river, the only reason for all the masochism.
And it’s a cracker. After the initial 5 days of flat water the river has begun to gain momentum in its drop towards the Indian Ocean. It’s getting powerful too, the volume ramping up from around 2000 cfs at the put in to somewhere around 15000 cfs here over mid way and providing regular long Class 5 rapids.
In the end the trip becomes a real adventure when we realise somewhere along the way we’ve mislaid the last two maps and aren’t sure where the take out is…
Two edgy days after the end of the map and 280kms downstream from the put in we reach the last bridge before the ocean and call it a day as the river plummets over a 100m cataract. Seems as good a place as any to call it a day.

Thanks to Dan Armstrong for the Photos.

Huka Falls - North Island New Zealand

When I first came to New Zealand, Huka Falls was a tourist attraction drawing gawping crowds. Of course I was one of the gawping crowds but in my own little mind I was different because I was looking at the spectacular not as something to fill up my Cannon but as something to add to my quiver of kayaking experiences.
Guides and locals would tell stories of people who had perished falling into the 100m long cataract which ends in a 10 m fall. When I asked if anyone had paddled it, they all shook their heads knowingly , ‘Quite clearly that’s illegal and just silly’ or ‘No, no, that would be impossible. Although a lady who tried to commit suicide here was dragged so deep on the final falls by her dress that she survived the terrible tow back’.
Maybe that’s the future? Kayaking in dresses?
Well maybe not, but a lot has changed in the times since my first visit, where I walked away from the falls to come back later. Boats are better, Kayakers are better and I have more experience. And somewhat annoyingly it has become the backyard run for my little brother who kayaks it regularly. So after holding his wedding there temptation was too much and Huka transcended tourist attraction for me, - ORSM!

Class Five - New York Style.

If the traffic is running well (in NYC??) you can make it from Manhattan to the put in of The Popolopen in under an hour. First run in the last 5 years or so The Pop is classic class 5 creek and all the more so for being within a stones throw from an 8 million person megatropolis.
Like most North Eastern runs the Pop flows only after heavy rain or when snow packs decide to head South. So it was on a grey wet day that we found ourselves walking into the snow lined river this last March for 3 successive days. You have to make hay while the sun shines or paddle when the flow goes. This ephemeral little gem offers only 2 miles of paddling but you won’t feel short changed.



Today we put in and it’s clear that the snow is combining with the rain to surge levels in one direction – up. There is a short warm up before you get to the steeper section – Chutes and ladders, and it is at this stage that the rest of the group decides that it’s a little too feisty for them. It’s just too dam high quality for me to make the sensible grown up decision and so I push on, on my own, at least there will be a car at the take out for me.
With the river high and turning brown, eddies are getting smaller and are flushing out the back ends sooner. I’ve done this stretch many times and am happy to dinosaur it (long neck, no brains). My major concern is wood but most of it seems to be charging down river with me rather than blocking the way.



Committed on my own in the bottom of this dark dank tree lined valley everything disappears apart from the lines. My lines are mostly good, but the odd error, I clout my elbow on a rock, forces me to focus and paddle as clinically as I can.
And then I’m thru and dumped into The Hudson as The Pop finishes its hectic drop off Bear Mountain at its final confluence. This time my decision was validated by my survival and the exhilaration of running such a beautifully continuous and technical run. But soloing is not a smart decision and I shouldn’t get caught up in the delight of paddling what I love as a kayaker, beautiful continuous technical WW over my own personal safety.

F*** it I’m going to have another run.

Hokitika Heli Kayaking, New Zealand- Mungo Canyon

I’m reflecting on the day in the always stunning New Zealand wilderness from the doorstep of the DOC (Department of conservation) hut conveniently placed mid way through our two day river trip. Sand flies buzz around my head like the memories of another full day of world class, white water. Different strokes and moves, different Canyons and rapids repeat in my head but it is the crux of the Canyon that my thoughts return to.It is most kayaker’s worst nightmare, a horizon line that needs scouting that is flanked by vertical walls and with no way back upstream.

These are the realities of the complexity of kayaking the New Zealand Heli runs, steep boulder choked channels with irregular vertical walled gorges and the risk of getting trapped in them. More than most rivers around the world the rocks in these channels are in a rush to get to the Ocean and so the rapids often change from year to year.



Even with Dave Kwant who has paddled this section before we’re probing in the dark. I find a one boat eddy just above some large boulders on the right against one of the canyon walls. The current is slow enough that Kevin England can stay in the current but hold my boat in the eddy with the bow of his kayak while I climb out. Standing chest deep in the eddy on a small ledge I shuffle along underneath a boulder and then chimney 10 ft up the downstream side of this to get up on the Right hand bank. At least we’ll know what is coming now.

As I get a good look at the rapid, the group eyes me nervously from upstream, I could mess with them but I don’t need to, after a four foot ledge, the river splits in two. On the right it disappears under the rock that splits the river channel here - death. On the left a small slot will allow us to pass as long as we don’t drop too far right off the top drop, I can see a small eddy further downstream but am not sure what comes next.



I go first to try and spread some confidence into the sceptically received description of the line, these guys running it on my explanation alone. Everyone drops through fine, but then just downstream there is another large class 5 (easier to run than portage) with a boat sized eddy to catch at the bottom before the whole river disappears under a house size boulder that fell into the gorge god only knows how many years ago.

This is the crux section of the Mungo or Upper Section of The Hokitika, one of the many classic runs that pile off New Zealand’s Southern Alps, drawing kayakers from around the globe each year. The dynamic nature of these rivers means that they are in a continuous flux, moving with floods, creating new rapids, removing old ones, this is best summed up in Graham Charles’ Guide Book,

“The valley sides in the Hokitika are constantly moving and the yearly changes are phenomenal. If it has been more than a few weeks since anyone has been in, or if there has been a big flood treat any run on the Hoki as a first descent - your family will love you for it.”



But then that’s the appeal isn’t it? People have been here before several, if not many times. But it doesn’t feel like it. Continuous technical rapids made of water that you could bottle and sell, canyons that you can’t see the top of, all set in pristine (sand fly infested) wilderness, always providing something to be treasured. And so we take these risks knowing that two who came before us stayed here, forever.
But now it’s our turn and working as a team we scout, communicate, signal, portage and paddle ourselves through this incredible gift one rapid at a time. Slowly, scout by scout, stroke by stroke, rapid by rapid we made it through the Mungo Canyon, The Frisco canyons and the rapids in between and eventually arrive at the hut.
As I sit nursing my tea I look downstream along half a kilometre of class 5 before it disappears into another vertical walled canyon.
Yeah, tomorrow is going to be another spectacular day.

Thanks to Kev England for the Photos.