Pakistan Day 13-16

Posted in Blogroll - by snapdragon, on 27/02/2009

Our team was happy to camp on yet another perfect sandy beach by the Indus. Boulders of large proportions littered all the beaches, offering up snug little alcoves for us to sleep in. We awoke full of expectations, and fired up because of the standard set by Ben Stookesberry and Phil Boyer the previous day.

On the water with the whole team again we ran some nice read and run for a short time before arriving at the first considerable rapid which was, rather considerable. The main line ran into an absurdly large backed up hole, and there was a “sneak” that sloped down into the hole too…I wasn’t sure what the boils would do.

In the name of keeping our portages down, and just being Ben Stookesberry, he fired away at the big sneak line while we portaged, and he had no issues with slaying another beast.

Our day went by quickly as we scouted more rapids and made typical big water “stay the hell away from that hole!” moves. The canyon was deep here, blocking out any trace of direct sunlight, so no zoom lens for me, but the photos do show the dwarfing size of the rapids.

At this point we were all starting to feel at home in the big water. Deep in the gorge we found some of the most epic waves we had ever seen, all large enough to cause second thoughts. We regressed back to grade school and taunted each other with the immortal “I will if you will” wave surfing challenge, and we all ended up trying out some sweet waves and almost getting accident surfs on some of the lead in moves. We were glad to have another day of the river behind us, and be that much closer to the confluence with the Gilgit River, our eventual take-out that was taking much longer than expected to attain.

On our fourteenth day in Pakistan we weren’t too surprised to have more long scouts of big rapids.

Early on we took a look at an unusual Indus rapid. On most rivers it would just be a gravel bar riffle. Proportions change on the Indus, we felt like miniatures, the “gravel bar” was big enough to contain sieves. Eventually a satisfactory line was found and we all came through
with no problems, to arrive at the lip of the next major rapid only too soon.

The already tough rapids had looked like nothing from the road, but soon enough we were perched above a rapid noted during the road-scout . We said that it looked like an easy move, a consistent mistake for our group.

As each team member ran the drop they would our view would be blocked by a larger boulder, and each one was upside down when they returned to view. It was obvious the hole wasn’t retentive, but the hit was more akin to running a waterfall, cartwheeling everyone on contact. Not quite the big fluffy thing it looked like.

High above we saw a rapid that looked terrible, and our assumption of a portage was correct. The river funneled down and cascaded over what was sure to be a pile of rocks. Phil Boyer in the bottom of the picture helps put it in perspective, the mighty river narrowed to thirty feet wide while cascading forty feet over a pile of rocks.

Goliath center holes blocked any direct route, and going down the right required climbing over a few feet of boils, no easy task. What truly concerned us about the right side was a possible pocket hole at the bottom.

Phil Boyer proclaimed it safe and probed down the right side with results that while not exactly inspiring, did prove that the rapid went, but coming through the bottom without rolling was an unlikely prospect. Chris Korbulic and I followed with varying degrees of success, each rolling on the frigid glacial water. Ben Stookesberry had eddied out on the left and found a line with a beautiful boof perpendicular to the flow.

Past the frightening drop we paddled a quick bit of read and run, glad to greet Roland Stevenson and our drivers, ready for some Chai and Dahl, knowing the following days whitewater wouldn’t disappoint.

Having a campfire with breakfast made it harder for us to motivate. It wasn’t mentioned, but in the air there was a feeling that we were near the end of this chapter of the Indus. Our desire to finish was larger than our want for creature comforts, and after the first splash in the face, downstream progress was our only focus. We started off the day with several kilometers of high quality read n run, only too happy to be working our way down river. Only too soon we were forced to scout what had looked like an epic rapid from the road.

Water ramped through a narrow section of river and pulsed over haystacks, plunging over a mighty folding ledge sending all surface water into the wall. Literally into the wall. Ten to fifteen foot deep pockets existed in the wall, and with a heavy heart we knew it was another portage. It appeared impossible to escape contact with the wall, and none of us desired to become a permanent feature of the Indus.

As we portaged over the rocks the terrain pushed us higher and higher, eventually near the road. Chris had been feeling ill again, and decided that some downtime would help his heath more than a lengthy portage. I wavered on the fence, but lacking a good excuse decided to continue downstream with Ben and Phil. We performed a dubious seal launch and quickly had to exit our boats again.

Thirty minutes of clambering over boulders and we could finally see the bottom of the rapid. Another thirty minutes of scrambling to find our boats and get setup. Phil chose to probe while Ben and I did our media roles. A three part, several hundred yard long rapid. Phil led the charge and we followed with admirable results, glad to have another big rapid behind our belts.

Boisterous cascades continued in pleasant open settings where we enjoyed running many rapids rapids and a feeling that ground had been covered. In the early afternoon we pulled into an eddy within easy walking distance of our nights accommodations.

We had skipped lunch on the river and welcomed a delicious meal with more variety than we had seen in a while, followed by an afternoon of enjoying life in a small town on Skardu Highway.

Although much of the area has cell phone coverage, our current location didn’t, and our driver’s son was in the hospital, so we drove a few kilometers to Haramosh, which had a land line and a few small stores.

We met Mr Zarir who said that although they teach English (Urdu and Arabic too) at the school, pronunciation was the hardest part, and he would be pleased to have us visit the school, read a book or two and talk with the students. We estimated that another day on the river and we would be near his school. We happily accepted his offer before heading off to our motel, looking forward to talking at the school in a few days.

In my short career of paddling, Pakistan wins the prize for the lowest cost of living once in country. Being a notoriously cheap kayaker, this motel on our fifteenth night was right up my alley at thirty cents per person. We never spent a night in a heated building while in Pakistan, so as an added bonus, it was nice and one warm.

Over cups of chai in the morning Chris decided his stomach still wasn’t up to par, so he would go media from the road with my old camera. Down at water level we got into the mix of things right away, after a quick hike through some goat herding…

While on the trip I really thought so many days of similar big water would blend together, and I would write about them in one big summary. Each day had its own challenges and stand out rapids, and on day sixteen one of the most memorable came early in the day.

The river split around a bedrock island, and rejoined into a maelstrom of waves, holes and folds, all leading into a fifty foot wide hole that could potentially surf a kayaker into a pile of boulders. After that it was simply a hundred yard long run out of monster breaking waves.

We would come down the alley way, wait to pass a lateral ledge, then drive far to river left, completely avoiding the monster hole. At least that was the plan.

Bhe Indus set the example for the complexity of scouting big water, and Ben quickly realized he wouldn’t be going left of the hole. He squared up and dropped in, disappearing for a tense moment but resurfacing clear of backwash.

Phil Boyer went left earlier than Ben, squared up and emerged from the hole unscathed, so I told myself it was really just a big class IV…as long as you don’t screw up. I gave a thumbs up and hiked back to my boat, knowing that it would be big and a lot of it would have to be figured out at river level. On a river of this proportions, features constantly change and luck can play a large role in lines.

I came into the boof hot and got enough of one to be stable and in control through the alley way. I knew the rapid was too long to paddle at full speed the whole time, and this seemed like a good time for a break, when Phil made the move through the lateral folding hole it looked pretty mellow.

As my bow dropped into the fold I realized it wasn’t going to be mellow at all, and I should have a lot more momentum but it was too late. I went deep and resurfaced upright but facing upstream. As I turned around a wave broke over my head and knocked me over, forcing a quick roll. I told myself it would be ok as I rolled up. While scouting I had liked a right of center line where the big hole looked more like a wave, so I lined up for the wave train. To my displeasure the first big wave broke as I came into it, and with no speed I was surfed to the left and once again, not facing the right direction and the hole was approaching too fast, and one last wave spun me around backwards. Thanks to the quick turning ability of the Hero, I was able to straighten out at the last second and drop in.

It felt like dropping into the base of a big waterfall, but I remembered what I had heard from big water veterans; tuck in tight and protect your skirt and paddle.

I surfed about fifty feet to the right in almost no time, and to my relief, came right out.

Our next cascade had looked very questionable from the Karakoram Highway, but from river level it looked friendlier than expected. Or perhaps the last rapid had just put things in perspective, but it was a beautiful boulder garden with quality moves.

Once past the gorgeous rapid we were happy to have two huge puzzles behind us, and the river split off from the road. Chris and Roland drove downstream to speak at the school while we finished up the section.

The corner revealed one more long scout, and my eyes widened but mouth stayed shut as Ben routed Phil through a big rapid, and Phil styled it with no problems.

The walls opened again, and gradient eased off, letting us get away lots of read n run with the occasional quick scout from shore.