Come December more European or American kayakers show up at the hostel. Having paddled the Lower Trancura maybe 25-30 times by now, I am definitely ready for a change, so I team up with Rodolfo (my hostel’s owner) and a group of rowdy American kayakers to paddle the Upper Palguin, a very short section of only 500 metres that consists of only three major drops/waterfalls. But with the put-in and take-out being so near to each other, most people do multiple laps in a row.
Not me though. Lacking the conviction that I can pull off the crucial move on the first double drop, and it scares the shit out of me. I decide to walk that one. The second (4 metre) and third drop (6 metre) are not really walkable though and I make it down although the way I do lacks any sense of style. I don’t really care though. These are the first big(ger) drops that I’ve run after the 22 Saltos experience, so I consider not losing my boat a definite win.
Some days later I join Oli, Alex and Chito who are invited a two-day rafting trip on the río San Pedro organised by Ben May, who coincidentally wrote the guidebook on Chilean rivers. It’s a tranquil, but lovely and scenic river with the occasional rapid. But mostly it’s just playing in whirlpools or having a beer at the beach. Good times.
Being so close to río Fuy, we decide to paddle this one too. In the books described as a class III but with the water level now, the first part of the section is definitely a good class IV now. Definitely made my heart race and even skip a few beats, but even more so it’s an absolutely stunning river.
Then Oli, Alex and I head off to the north where the guys want to run some waterfalls. We end up at the 10 metre high Blanco Sur. I try to talk myself into running it, but somehow I cannot convince my mind of the sanity of it. It takes me a full night of semi-sleep, waking up numerous times, visualising the lines and moves I have to make. It helps, the next morning I actually feel ready. This doesn’t mean I’m not nervous, but once I get on the river just above the waterfall, I calm down and get into the zone.
It turns out to be the perfect waterfall, as people had predicted. Easy approach, perfect lip, soft landing. It’s amazing. But still… when minutes later I’m by myself in the pool below, with the boys running back up for another lap, I can’t help but feel that the excitement I feel is only barely higher than the stress I experienced.
So I definitely choose not to run 15 metre high Tomatita waterfall. Only Oli runs it, even though you can tell he’s not really feeling it. In the end, he swims after not being able to roll back up. But not much lost. On we go!
We head to Truful, an absolutely beautiful, continuous class III, river. It starts in an impressive canyon next to the Parque National Conguillío, with snowcapped volcan Llaìma towering above us. It’s only now that I realise I’ve been here before, when I had just arrived in Chile and on my way to Pucón. It shows how well prepared I was back then (and probably still am), since I never realised these rivers and waterfalls could be paddled.
Back in Pucón, Alex is “meeting up” with a girl he met during Puesco fest, so we won’t be seeing him for a couple of days. Oli and I, however, meet a group of Norwegian kayakers, who are basically planning to do the exact same thing we just did, and decide to team up with them. Just because we can.
So we run Blanco Sur again, this time with wayyyy less stress, then head to Tomatito to see the guys run that with style, and then to Truful. Being young, avid paddlers the boys have a long hard look at the Truful cascades, but eventually decide not to run it.
All of us then meet up with some British kayakers to paddle the río Llizan. This river is new to me and proves to be a proper class IV creek, and it is simply too difficult for me. Most of us portage the canyon at the beginning, but then the next two rapids are where I reach my mental limit. I can’t do this anymore. I am so fucking scared. It takes all the fun, and drains my energy, leaving me a mental wreck constantly on the verge of a mental breakdown.
It’s crazy how I’ve been pushing my limits for weeks now. And I’ve probably been more scared, really scared, in the recent weeks than in the past 10 years. Up until now, I’ve been able to persevere, to find that what I thought was my limit, actually wasn’t. But I can’t do it anymore. I simply can’t. I was scared at the Palguin, then I was even more scared at Blanco Sur and now I’m even more scared here. It’s too much. I don’t need any of this. I’m too old for this stuff.
So I climb out of my kayak, sit down by myself for maybe half an hour as the others continue downriver, and then walk back to the road. I’m done. I need some nice, easy kayaking again. Stressfree and fun.
We get a well-earned dose of fun at our wild camp that evening. It’s John’s birthday today, so we hang a kayak up in a tree, cover it in alumium foil and add a couple of lights. It’s the kayakers version of a disco ball. And let’s be honest: no real party without a disco ball.
We light up a nice little fire, drink some wine, and play loud 80’s music (which is apparently quite popular in Norway). It is so cool to have about six nationalities come together and unite in simple, but universal fun.
Generally this and a disco kayak should have been enough to make John’s birthday unforgettable, but it’s around midnight that his birthday reaches the status of “epic”. While were all dancing under the disco kayak to the tunes of Sister Sledge – He’s The Greatest Dancer (which applies to none of us), we’re suddenly startled an approaching police car flashing it’s lights. Apparently, we’re trespassing, making a fire and drinking in public… all of which is illegal in Chile.
With me being the only one speaking proper Spanish, I am unvoluntarily chosen to be spokesperson of the group (I know it’s probably not the right moment for it, but I feel somewhat proud of that, thinking about how far I’ve come with my Spanish). So while we hand in our passports, I explain to the officers what is going on, that it’s John’s birthday and that we meant no harm. John helps me out by speaking the only sentence he remembers from Spanish class he had in highschool: yo tengo mi cumpleaños el diez y nueve de diciembre. I stay away from trying to elaborate on the disco kayak though. I figure it speaks for itself.
At first the police explains that we will have to leave and go to an official camp site. They will even escort us there. When we point out that all of us are intoxicated beyond the legal limits and rather unfit to drive, they simply shrug and tell us not to worry about that. After all, they will be escorting us.
So with a free pass to drink and drive, they make us pack our stuff. I’ve noticed one of the police officers is barely able to keep a straight face, and sense that they think we’re kinda funny. Obviously, 12 drunk people gathering their stuff and taking down their tents, tarps and hammocks is a slow proces and after a couple of minutes I’m told that we should hold: the police is going to see the land owner and enquire whether it’s okay if we stay there for the night. Ten minutes later they return and we’re given the thumbs up: we can stay. But only for one night! So we extensively thank the police, giving them sincere abrazos and even kisses by some of the girls. Must be a good night for them as well.
Having not saìd anything about the music, we once agaìn turn up the base and party well into the night…
The next morning I’m still hoping for some stressfree paddling, but that’s not what I get even though we head back to the río Fuy again. To my surprise the plan is to do another section of the river this time. Once again being the lesser kayaker of the group, I am somewhat concerned about what I’m getting myself and for a brief moment I contemplate not joining the group, and putting in at the lower section. But then I figure, no guts no glory and I join them anyway.
What follows is probably one of the most exciting sections I’ve paddled here in Chile. Really fun continuous class IV water, although the fun part is probably the result of the adrenaline rushing through my veins. For me this is definitely survival paddling: I’m surviving but not really in control of what I do. And I’m super happy to see the bridge that indicates the start of the easier section that I’ve already paddled before.
We return to Pucón for a couple of days of well-deserved chill time. But now we run into German kayakers Rocco, Sebastian and Peter who are keen to paddle. So once again we set off. To río Puesco (which I do not run), to Upper Palguin (which I do run now), and to río Fuy once more. Admittedly, I spend alot of time faffing and playing pingpong as well, but man, this is so cool!!All in all, these weeks have been quite epic. I got to paddle so many rivers, met so many cool people, had so many laughs, drank so many cheap beers and ate way too much ice cream. I really don’t think life could get any better!
When we get back to Pucón I suddenly realise all of this has in some way been the result of reading that kayak magazine years ago. And so I make a promise to myself, call it a New Year’s resolution: when I get back to Holland I will spend more time reading… preferably on the toilet.
The Long Solo Down 
Plaats een reactie