The Paddler ezine WW kayak collection 2013 | Page 172

ThePaddler 172

According to the map, our third and final gorge,
appeared to have the steepest vertical drop. Our
map showed three topo lines crossing the river
within the gorge, which could have been a 300-foot
waterfall. We would want a fresh start in the
morning if this scenario was to play out. We found a
small camp with a fresh water spring right at the top
of a very stout class V rapid. Though we wanted to
maintain our momentum we knew if were forced to
portage a 300-foot waterfall, we would need clear
heads and loads of energy. So we spent the rest of
the day setting up shelter, collecting firewood and
sipping on fine Pisco, which is strangely necessary
on all Peruvian kayak expeditions.

press of coffee, I noticed something was amiss.
“Where’s Evan?” As I approached his cocoon I
could tell it had been a long night. “You hurtin’
buddy?” “I’ve been ill all night, and I’m not sure I
can kayak class V and portage through jungle
today.” I looked over at the rest of the crew and
could tell they were rearing to go. We needed to get
on the river today. I talked him into taking a butt
plug pill and starting a course of Cipro. “Give me
an hour and I’ll be good to go. You’re just going to
have to carry my kayak for me today.” “Not a
problem, I’m sure Ben and Nate won’t mind.”

The nights are long in Peru, as darkness sets in like
a light switch at 6pm. Once night falls, the jungle
becomes alive. So densely filled with life, a high
pitch buzz fills the air and reverberates through the
deep canyon walls. Sweating in my 20 degree
sleeping bag, I tossed and turned with thoughts of
the third gorge and some of the close calls of the
day. All I could do was listen to the wild river,
cradled in the arms of an old canyon until the
constant roar of the rapid, lulled me to sleep.

From the map readings we were only 2km from
the entrance of the third gorge. As a team, we were
all mentally prepared for a portage of epic
proportions, apart from Evan. With nine days of
provisions left and 30km to go until the river made
its bend back to civilization, we felt, at the least, we
would not starve to death out here in the jungle.

Morning greeted us with clear skies and,
thankfully, a river that had not risen. As
we huddled around our one
French

Packing in Huanuco.
Photo: Evan Ross

The Pisco Sour is
Peru’s national
drink and is
made using Pisco
brandy, lemons,
sugar water, egg
whites, ice and
finished with
bitters.

Mentally prepared

After successfully firing a seal launch into the rapid
at camp, we entered a truly classic section of
whitewater containing juicy slot drops and
perfectly symmetrical ledge pourovers. All of our
stomachs were in our
throats