The Paddler ezine WW kayak collection 2013 | Page 173

as we continued to paddle downstream imagining
what may lie ahead. Again we could see the
canyon walls closing in. Upon reaching the last
possible eddy, we took a glance downstream to see
that this was just another mini canyon. The gorge
opened back up within 200 yards from the
entrance. After paddling through this short mini
canyon, we consulted the GPS. We all felt as
though we had travelled more than 2km, and as
Ryan dialled in his reading, we all anxiously waited
for the good word. “Our little buddy here is telling
us we are beyond the gorge.” We all looked at each
other dumbfounded. How could that be? The
cartographer must have been making up for lost
gradient along the way. With such steep canyon
walls, and no other access to the river corridor,
obtaining readings from the air must have left the
map makers to do their best guess work.

Where was the suffering?

We immediately took a break for lunch where
we lounged like lizards for a few short
minutes before the sand flies made
a timely arrival for their

gringo feast. I was left with both of a sense of relief
and a feeling of “where’s the beef?” We had prepared
for absolute battle. That’s not say we had not
paddled through the most amazing canyon of our
lives but where was the suffering? As far as we were
concerned, this canyon had been crafted by the
Incan gods to be explored by a kayak. Perhaps we
had paid our dues by simply arriving at the put-in.
After lunch we put the hammer down and set our
jets to paddle out the last 30km to the town of
Chinivato. After a few miles we came upon a few
dugout canoes along the bank, which lead us to
believe it would be flat water out to civilization.
There was also some large-scale machinery and it
looked like a group of workers were taking rock
samples from the canyon walls. Later we discovered
that a dam is slated to be built in the heart of the
Pongo De Aguirre by a Brazilian company. It should
be completed by 2013. As we pondered the heartbreaking ramifications brought on by a dam,
blocking the flow of such a powerful river, a big and
brown water tributary entered the river, which more
than doubled our water flow. Immediately after
being greeted by this new tributary we were thrown
right back into the action – 20kms of continuous
class V rapids.

Nate’s endearing smile said it all

Watch the video

During this last section of river we did not s cout or
even stop as we navigated the read and run rapids. I
had the luxury of following Ryan, silhouetted in the
sun. After running one drop, I turned to see Nate
drop blindly into big, meaty hydraulics, which I had
intentionally missed. After popping out, Nate’s
endearing smile said it all. This was a perfect
moment. We had accomplished our mission. At the
same time, our adventure was just beginning. We had
many more rivers to run in Peru. For everyone in the
group, this is what kayaking is all about. Rather than
competition or running 100-foot waterfalls, an
accomplishment, which completely transcends the
individual and forms unbreakable bonds among
friends. It’s about a simultaneous inner and outer
journey, and for a moment, you can feel the pulse of
the earth through its veins… the river.
Upon reaching the take out we could see there was
a well travelled road with trucks and buses going
towards Tingo Maria and Huánuco where we had
started the trip three days prior. There was no way I
could imagine that we would be back in Huánuco,
at our posh hostel, with only a four-hour bus ride
over the summit which separates the Andean alto
Plano from the jungle. Our ideal river experience
was to be made true with a cheers of delicious
Pilsner beer, ironically made in the Barrio de Callao
where, a mere week before, I had travelled the
docks, grappling with Peruvian customs officials to
free our kayaks for our mission down the Rio
Huallaga.

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