ThePaddler 52
We had been on the water for three hours paddling through consistent class IV-V rapids before we reached our first portage. Arriving at the top of the incline I said, “Man, I’m not gonna lie, that hill kicked man ass.” Ryan gave a knowing, dirt-filled smile, which said, “We’re just getting started buddy.” After getting all six kayaks to the top of the plateau we gazed downstream at the encroaching canyon walls. On this particular portage we were lucky to find a flat bench that was only 500 feet above the river, where we could easily walk around the un-runable mini canyon below. Further downstream the canyon choked, which would make further portages much more difficult or impossible
Returning to the river, we started to make good time. Our team seemed to be working well together, getting into a good rhythm of ‘leap frog.’ This technique is where the lead kayaker scouts on behalf the rest of the group and gives verbal direction of where to run the rapid, allowing the other team members to stay in their kayaks. This method is fast but it can bite you in the ass if there is any miss communication. On a previous expedition my paddling partner swam through a rock sieve due to a misunderstanding of my hand signals. The character of the river was perfect for kayaking. Big round metamorphic boulders seemed to be placed just far enough apart to get our kayaks through. Aside from the water quality being utterly disgusting, the rapids leading up to our first night’s camp was nothing short of worldclass. After spending a week in Lima wrangling our kayaks out of customs, this first day of kayaking was sorely needed. At camp we cooked up our glorified prison food and relished on the fact that we had just paddled
some incredible whitewater. Our GPS waypoints led us to believe we had made 30km, and had dropped 500 metres. It looked as though we were well ahead of the previous group’s pace. We would be dropping into the unknown sometime the following day.
After getting on the river at 7am, the rapids became steeper and more consequential compared to the previous day. After two hours of making our way through countless class V drops, we had arrived at the Chockstone, the entrance to the first gorge. Fumbling around the slippery hunks of metamorphic rocks we found a good spot to gaze into the abyss. I was not alone in my apprehension, as many of the poker faces had changed to looks of serious concern. We were going to have to break the number one rule of whitewater kayaking: never drop into a vertical walled gorge without knowing what lies within. Scouting from above would be impossible due to the thick vegetation on either side of the river. The plan was to paddle into the gorge, committing as far as possible while staying within line-of-sight of each other. We would leave all of the high angle rescue gear out of the immediate inner gorge with Ryan and myself. With 11 days of provisions left and an ideal low flow, we all felt good about continuing downstream. Matthew Klema and Ben Luck volunteered to take the leap of faith first into the canyon. As he disappeared into the void, a sense of optimism began to sink in. “He must see something we can’t,” Nate muttered. This hope was confirmed when Ben, who had line-ofsight with Matt, gave us the hand signal that it was okay for the rest of the group to continue under the Chockstone, and into the gorge.
We were perhaps the first humans ever to see this magical place from river level!
As we paddled through the first inner canyon, there was an eerie sense of calm. We were anticipating the worst-case scenario – a boxed in waterfall or rapid with no possible portage or runnable route. We floated 800 metres through a vertical canyon before the limestone walls gave way to steep jungle hillside. Suddenly, out of nowhere, a 100-foot cascading waterfall came barreling into the river. It took me a moment to process the perfect beauty of it as it looked to be super imposed on the dramatic canyon.
We were perhaps the first humans ever to see this magical place from river level! The canyon’s ecosystem had made a dramatic change form a semi arid climate to lush jungle. While we could have spent hours in that spot, relishing the ambiance, we had to make haste. With two more gorges still to go, we knew that if we were forced to portage, it would take days. As the first inner gorge opened up, the whitewater began to pick up. We anticipated the coming of the second gorge while navigating a series of class V