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| Bridge Rapid, Ash River |
Cost will be R400 per person, all inclusive. Email explorers.wits@gmail.com for more info. Space limited.
Keep it tidy.
Tuesday, September 27, 2011
Ash River Rafting
Cost will be R400 per person, all inclusive. Email explorers.wits@gmail.com for more info. Space limited.
Keep it tidy.
Thursday, January 21, 2010
Joined Wits Explorers 2010?
So if you have been scamed into signing up for Explorers in 2010 here is how you can get your money's worth.
End of Block Party
12 March 2010
Alley between Flower Hall and Genmin Labs
Beginners Rafting
5-7 March
Orange River
Beginners Hike
12-14th March
Pub evenings every Wednesday 6pm
For more info on trips and activities keep and eye out for posters around campus, check your email, this blog and the facebook group: http://www.facebook.com/group.php?gid=5307039955
Thursday, January 07, 2010
Paddling from Joburg
Driving around JHB you will not think a paddling meka, if fact you would probably wonder if it is possible to paddle in JHB at all. And well, at first glace there isn’t, even at second or third glace there isn’t. But over the years I have found a few advantages to living in Joburg and being a paddler. We to be honest I would rather live in Natal but being in Gauteng
When it does get up the
Think Kayak, more over think Play boat, this is were the
Gatsien chute
Gatsien at 150 cumecs
Parys Town wave
The highveld croc is a hidden gem, less that 50km from Joburg this river boasts some nice rapids when there is water. If it pisses with rain head down the next day and you can expect a great paddle. There are a few dodgy low level bridges and weirs so it would be advisable to paddle with someone who knows the section. At low level there is a small shallow play wave that works, it is a great little spot to work on you playboating technique.
The Klip is another source of fun to be had close to Joburg , this one has a fair amount of water most of the year. The water is not all that clean so keep your mouth shut. While most of the river is generally used by canoeists there is one 5km section which is nice to kayak (and croc I suppose?). It is a great little paddle for beginners and better paddlers looking for something during the dry winter months. About half way down a great little playwave can be found, while it is better that the one on the croc it can only be accessed by paddling down.
A little further afield lays the Ash, a Gem… Fed by the Lesotho highlands water project this river flows all year round. The one down side is that the water is cold and paddling it in winter should only be attempted on a warm day, which in Clarens does not happen often. The section has a host of nice grade 3 rapids and one infamous grade 4, bridge rapid. If you plan on paddling the full section go with someone who know the run, there is some construction going on and currently the best drowning machine I have ever seen has been put in the flow which require a portage.
Park and play croc wave
Playwave on the croc
Unfortunately to find better action one needs to travel further to
If you need help learning to kayak or just need someone to paddle with give me a call, alas I sold out and got a job but I spend most of my out of Joburg.
Saturday, January 02, 2010
Olifants Dec 2009
Still blumpie, no sign of Eddy and leaving a camera to soak for 24 hours is a bad idea.... weird
Olifants or Umko, that was the question. The water levels convinced me that olifants would be a better option. However, at 9pm we still didn't have a plan for driveround. This was a slight problem as we were all set to leave at 11am the following day. Luckily Linda, a local from Hoedspruit, got hold of me and was keen to join for a paddle. First time facebook has ever been useful in my life. She, together with Lelani, helped us out with the driveround and the evenings accommodation. Thanks loads, you are life savers.
In normal explorers trip fashion we left on time, no not really. However two hours late wasn't a big issue given that the drive wasn't too far. We met up at Lelani's place opened up Al's keg and got into some good chill time. Stories of river carnage started flowing causing the newbies and Jo (who was about to embark on her first serious river in a kayak) to look a little nervous. Shortly after hitting the sack it started to rain rather hard. I woke up many hours later and it was still raining, I guessed we were going to be in for a wet big water trip. With the river already flowing at over 100 cumecs a solid nights rain could potentially make life interesting.
In the morning we packed our gear into our hosts bukkie and headed for the river.
Nipple caps, check.
Stuff in 4 crocs, check.
5 kayaks plus paddlers, check
Tents, nope... no tents, except for Chris who was being a pissy.
Water looking like chocolate milk, check.
Sufficient food, not really.
And we were off.
Don with the dirty water check
The first day is generally pretty flat so we set in for a long paddle to lunch and then the campsite. At lunch we stopped at what was previously a very small rapid. On this occasion however the little rapid had a monster hole with a nice surf shoulder. So with a little lunch down the hatch Chris and I headed off for a surf. While the others took the crocs into the hole for some spectacular swimming practice, a skill they would find in handy later in the trip. During lunch the muncher hole transformed into a perfect bouncy playwave. With a little effort the reeds provided some eddy service for a good play session. Al, who has paddling my creek boat, hopped into my flirt and ripped up the wave.
Lunch spot
"Eddy, here boy!" We couldn't seem to find out beloved little friend Eddy for swam past us on our previous trip. Silly little dog, hope something bad hasn't happened to him.
Now when I say chocolate milk I am not kidding. This water was incredibly dirty with silt. Far worse than on our previous trip. In fact the water was so dirty that everyone had mud caked on their faces. Hoping to get a tan I was incredibly brown by the end of the day, unfortunately it seemed to all wash off. (After a few showers I may add)
It was pretty apparent that the water was significantly higher than the last time we did this stretch earlier in the year. The river was flowing through trees, tiny rocky rapids were now big wave trains and our previous campsite was basically under water. It looked like it was 1.5m up, this would make for some interesting times in the gorge and rapids after.
We got to the campsite early and headed down the river to scout. The water was really pumping and contained some massive pourovers, which promised to beat the living hell out of anyone paddling into them. Oh well that was the next days problem, it was now time to set up camp and chill.
Chris and Dee had their little tent, Linda had what could be arguably described as handkerchief with poles, Al had his bivvy and the rest of us constructed two shelters out of fly sheets, crocs and ropes. In the end they looked pretty good however I wasn't too convinced how they would stand up in the impending rain. Of course we all seemed overly happy with our shelters and proceeded to drink tea, beer and cook some food.
Alas the rain never came. Last time we ran the trip it pissed with rain from 10 pm to 7am. Personally I think that was better. I don't even like being warm and dry when sleeping. Not character building enough.
The group at the campsite
Day two... Enter the carnage.
I woke up super early to a river with significantly less water than the day before. Quite possibly a metre less. So we packed up, jumped on the river and headed off to meet Lelani who was planning to join us for a paddle on the day section.
The first rapid provided some entrainment. Jo I don't like scouting Fisher took a swim at the first rapid of the day. Having only paddled the Vaal twice previously I was pretty impressed how well she had done thus far. Colin also provided some entrainment, swimming early in the rapid.
Don and Dee dodging the pour overs
The next rapid was looking pretty technical and was basically a game of dodge the pour over. Chris took and inter sting far left line and I took an equally interesting middle line. The crocs made it down with varying degrees of success.
We met up with Lelani on time, she was most concerned about the water level; saying it was over 200 cumecs. She and Linda teamed up in a croc instead.
The first rapid after the putin for the day section, known as double trouble, has two rather large holes. On our previous trip I plugged straight into these and narrowly avoided a beating. I somewhat cautiously eddy hopped down the entry. Chris tried to follow me but either missed the eddy I was in (it was small)or grew some balls, but he was soon seen doing a back loop in the second hole. I skirted on the left and told Al and Jo to do the same. Al did the same but Jo having a great kayaking surname decided to plug the holes square on. Well, lets be honest missing holes is for pissys. The general floor in her plan was her inability to stay up, which is an issue when you can't roll. Al, Chris and I all headed after her, rescued her and her boat and turned around to utter chaos. All the crocs had decided to not avoid the hole either. The scene involved 4 crocs and 8 people all swimming down the second half of the rapid. After some time we mopped up all the pieces and got going again.
For some reason Don and the rest of the croccers (also known as Goat Boaters) seemed a lot more keen to scout now, weird.
There are a few more small rapids before we hit the rapid of untold chaos, long drop. At first inspection this rapid really didn't look too hard. Yes the centre of the rapid had some interesting features but they where all easy to miss on the right. Myself and Chris headed down without too much hassle. Jo once again on Al's tail once again hit a hole off line. However this time she did not just flip and get flushed. Basically she had her first real beating. Her deck popped and she swam the rest of the rapid. I think she thought I was joking when I said she would be drinking booty beers.... Assumption is the mother of all fuckups
Don and Dee on the rapid of untold chaos
Also the last photo my camera ever took
Enter the crocs. Lelani and Don made it down without too much hassle, although Don did try go for the olde backwards sideways wrap toward the end. Chevonne thought it would be a good idea, which it was, to keep really far right. She kept so far right that she got stuck on many a rock on the way down. While getting of the rocks she pushed herself into the main current and got pushed even further left, heading straight for the hole Jo had just been beaten in. Lynnell, her motor, thought it seem like a shit place to go and pulled out a bit of back paddle action just before dropping in the hole. This pretty much sealed their fate, the hole flipped them and pulled chevonne back for a beating. Luckily the beating didn't last too long and all the people and equipment washed out. Pat and Colin, having seen this, decided they would try a slightly more left line than the one Chevonne used and failed...horribly Unfortunately their line was, well, crap. They flipped pretty early on and had a rather unpleasant swim down the rest of the rapid. My heart was in my mouth of a moment when Pat plugged into a massive pourover in the middle of the river. Thankfully he popped up on the boil line and washed out, close call.
After the rapid of untold chaos I decided it would be a pretty good time for a breather, so we stopped for lunch under a tree surrounded by cow shit. It was at this point when my mind thought of my camera, well my dads camera I was borrowing. During one of the swims I put my camera down to seal launch into the river to help pick up the pieces. What I had not done is put it somewhere sensible or gone back to get it. Being not too far from the sport I ran back and looked for the missing kit, but alas I couldn't find it..... bugger.
Losing a rather expensive camera that wasn't mine put a slight damper on my mood. And pretty much paddled to the take out without scouting and avoiding all entrainment.
Then we got out..... Still no sign of Eddy, getting very worried.
Ah sod it I am bored of writing this report now, it is a gay game I don't even like that game (Don Tye, 2006)
Oh yes, I paddled the section the following day with Al and Lelani to find my camera. I found it, but not the working bits. If anyone comes across the working bits of my camera can they please return them to me. Luckily the SD card, although full of mud, still worked. And hence the photos.
Appendix A
First For Jo:
- First bossie
- First real river
- First real beating
- First booty beer
Tuesday, October 20, 2009
Montrose Falls
After annual dinner I headed down to the lowveld with Adrian (a really old explorers member) and Brendan a kayaking mate. Thanks to the water release for the canoe race there was sufficient water to run Montrose falls on Sunday. Al and Chris met us there.
Me heading down first
Al styling the drop
Chris trying it out in a playboat
Adrian Vroom
Al jumping off the top of the 20m
Tuesday, October 06, 2009
Ash 3-4 October 2009
Pre Ash beers at the pig
Neil: Oh what's up Don
Don: Fine thanks and you
....(represents beer and general chit chat)
Neil: Stacey, do you know Don has a habit of swimming a lot
Stacey: (Nervous smile)
Don: I'm getting better
......
.....
Chevonne: stop talking about blumpies all the time
Everyone: Happy birthday Al
......
Al: I'm going to run bridge. Neil you must call me a pissy if I don't
Neil: sure thing
..........
...........
............
Chris: Dale do you want paddle on Sunday?
Dale: Sure
Chris: Ok so my plan is stay sober tonight, work tomorrow, go to the engagement party, leave early, pick up Dale from his party and drive to clarens.
Marco: (A huge rant which I will shorten to)Whatever!
Chris: Watch me!
Marco: fine the bet is six beers
.....
Neil: Later chaps off to get some sleep
So the plan as it stood on Friday afternoon; Jo and Jeremy are already on there way to Clarens. I would drive down at 4am the sat morning. I will do the 80km MTB race and Jeremy the 50km race. The rest will leave wits at 7 and paddle to bridge. Jeremy and I would meet them after the race. Chris, would drive down with Dale after the engagement party and join us for Sundays epically long paddle.
So, 4am comes, I wake up.... get in the car and start the drive. I turn back to get my wallet, and head off again. I arrived in Clarens and started the race. Since my race took a long time, somewhat due to the distance but mostly due to the fact that I am not very good at doing that distance at any great speed, I didn't run the river with the group on Sat morning. So basically I have no idea what happened until I met up with them later in the day at Alles rapid.
-------Enter don's report of what happened up to that point
-------
So I met up with the crew. The crew being Don, Stacey, Keren, Al, Nick, Jo, Pat, James and Colin. Stacey and Keren were sitting on the bank looking warm (no not really) but full of smiles. The rest were running alles a few times creating general chaos. Jeremy was supposed to be part of the crew, but due so miss communication (on my part) he ended up chilling at the backpackers.
Feeling like heman, I decided to go for a quick play in the stop wave at alles. Come on how tired can four and a half hours of mountain biking make you. After carrying my boat to the rapid I realised the answer, pretty damn tired. I had about three surf(none of which were any good) before throwing it in a heading down the rapid. We all paddled down to Bridge however no one really seemed to have the intention of running it. I was quite keen (since I really hate walking away from it) but realised it was probably a bad idea when I attempted to get out my boat. Apparently doing a long MTB race before cramming your legs into a tiny boat then paddling in cold water makes for a fantastic cramp mixture. A much entertained Jo helped me out out my kayak before I ran around in the mud for a while feeling and looking like a retard. So between the fact that my body was not working and that I wouldn't be able to get out my boat at the bottom I decided to give it a miss. Due to the cold and promise of tomorrow no one else was keen to run the rapid, so we opened some beers packed up, chilled and headed to Clarens.
At the trusty old backpackers we all set up camp. I, not having a tent (a situation I would regret later), passed the now freely flowing beer around. Nick and James made a fire and cooked the wors.
At this point I started to wonder about explorers. Good food, pretty girls.... what the hell is happening?
Thankfully the general discussions and banter haven't changed. With the beers, box wine and Heineken (apparently it is different to beer) we digressed into loud bunch who laugh at toilet humour and sexual innuendo (sometimes not so innuendoish). In drips and drabs we all headed off to the pub where much the same a happened.
Chris, who should have been driving to the Ash now, pissyed out (or came to his senses) and went to bed.
So, bed time. Sure sleeping under the stars will be fine. What the hell does the weather service know anyways.
A few things we where glad about
I was glad it didn't rain
I was glad I didn't check how big Don's tent was when opting to sleep on the floor in the pub when it started to not rain
Keren was happy that Don's tent didn't leak and her sleeping bag didn't get wet
Don was pretty happy he never left is shoes outside.
So in the morning it pretty much kept on raining. The kind of rain that you hope will stop, but you really know it won't.
Now the one thing about the Ash is this, it is cold. Not just a little but cold, proper cold. If it is nice a sunny out getting splashed is nice and refreshing, rolling gives you an ice cream headache while swimming knocks the wind out your chest. If, however, it is not nice and sunny.... Say windy and raining for instance... the Ash basically becomes complete misery.
The generally feeling one got in our morning camp was that paddling would be complete misery so needless to say no one was up early and into their wet kit. In fact we pretty much sat around looking at the rain thinking about our beds.
We all headed off for breakfast, pancakes and waffles at a local spot. Rejuvenated by food, warmth and banter we decided that we would give some paddling a bash. The general consensus was to head to bridge and run it.
We all headed up to Alles to get "warmed" up before hitting bridge. Al, who wasn't looking too keen on the idea of bridge was convinced when I told him I would run it. Bravely he asked me to run safety and without scouting again he headed into the drop. Al hadn't run it before so doing it in this weather was top notch move indeed. He styled through the entry but was knocked over in the drop, rolled and was shortly knocked over again. He rolled quickly just before hitting the shelf and made the window on the right. Nice one Alan.
I headed down next without too much hassle this time.
Next the crocs came down one by one.
The infamous croc swim team pair, Don and Jo, headed down first. They styled it without too much hassle. I am a little worried that Don didn't swim at all this trip. It is completely against his nature.
Pat and Colin went next and tried a less orthodox approach, spinning the boat at the top, heading down the rest backward and hitting the hole sideways. Although they swam the hole didn't dish out much carnage due to the low Sunday level.
Lastly Nick and James ran it, and made it without too much hassle.
In high spirits after doing some paddling we packed up and made lunch. Lunch turned into a Nick, Pat and Neil food fight. I think Nick ended up worst off.
Good trip, good times.
Postscript: The tale of Chris.
Chris didn't stay sober on Friday night, not even a little bit. In fact he got so hammered he only woke up at 4pm on sat. Needless to say he didn't want to drive to the Ash on Sat night after a second party.
Neil: Oh what's up Don
Don: Fine thanks and you
....(represents beer and general chit chat)
Neil: Stacey, do you know Don has a habit of swimming a lot
Stacey: (Nervous smile)
Don: I'm getting better
......
.....
Chevonne: stop talking about blumpies all the time
Everyone: Happy birthday Al
......
Al: I'm going to run bridge. Neil you must call me a pissy if I don't
Neil: sure thing
..........
...........
............
Chris: Dale do you want paddle on Sunday?
Dale: Sure
Chris: Ok so my plan is stay sober tonight, work tomorrow, go to the engagement party, leave early, pick up Dale from his party and drive to clarens.
Marco: (A huge rant which I will shorten to)Whatever!
Chris: Watch me!
Marco: fine the bet is six beers
.....
Neil: Later chaps off to get some sleep
So the plan as it stood on Friday afternoon; Jo and Jeremy are already on there way to Clarens. I would drive down at 4am the sat morning. I will do the 80km MTB race and Jeremy the 50km race. The rest will leave wits at 7 and paddle to bridge. Jeremy and I would meet them after the race. Chris, would drive down with Dale after the engagement party and join us for Sundays epically long paddle.
So, 4am comes, I wake up.... get in the car and start the drive. I turn back to get my wallet, and head off again. I arrived in Clarens and started the race. Since my race took a long time, somewhat due to the distance but mostly due to the fact that I am not very good at doing that distance at any great speed, I didn't run the river with the group on Sat morning. So basically I have no idea what happened until I met up with them later in the day at Alles rapid.
-------Enter don's report of what happened up to that point
-------
So I met up with the crew. The crew being Don, Stacey, Keren, Al, Nick, Jo, Pat, James and Colin. Stacey and Keren were sitting on the bank looking warm (no not really) but full of smiles. The rest were running alles a few times creating general chaos. Jeremy was supposed to be part of the crew, but due so miss communication (on my part) he ended up chilling at the backpackers.
Feeling like heman, I decided to go for a quick play in the stop wave at alles. Come on how tired can four and a half hours of mountain biking make you. After carrying my boat to the rapid I realised the answer, pretty damn tired. I had about three surf(none of which were any good) before throwing it in a heading down the rapid. We all paddled down to Bridge however no one really seemed to have the intention of running it. I was quite keen (since I really hate walking away from it) but realised it was probably a bad idea when I attempted to get out my boat. Apparently doing a long MTB race before cramming your legs into a tiny boat then paddling in cold water makes for a fantastic cramp mixture. A much entertained Jo helped me out out my kayak before I ran around in the mud for a while feeling and looking like a retard. So between the fact that my body was not working and that I wouldn't be able to get out my boat at the bottom I decided to give it a miss. Due to the cold and promise of tomorrow no one else was keen to run the rapid, so we opened some beers packed up, chilled and headed to Clarens.
At the trusty old backpackers we all set up camp. I, not having a tent (a situation I would regret later), passed the now freely flowing beer around. Nick and James made a fire and cooked the wors.
At this point I started to wonder about explorers. Good food, pretty girls.... what the hell is happening?
The Ladies looking warm
Chris, who should have been driving to the Ash now, pissyed out (or came to his senses) and went to bed.
So, bed time. Sure sleeping under the stars will be fine. What the hell does the weather service know anyways.
A few things we where glad about
I was glad it didn't rain
I was glad I didn't check how big Don's tent was when opting to sleep on the floor in the pub when it started to not rain
Keren was happy that Don's tent didn't leak and her sleeping bag didn't get wet
Don was pretty happy he never left is shoes outside.
So in the morning it pretty much kept on raining. The kind of rain that you hope will stop, but you really know it won't.
Now the one thing about the Ash is this, it is cold. Not just a little but cold, proper cold. If it is nice a sunny out getting splashed is nice and refreshing, rolling gives you an ice cream headache while swimming knocks the wind out your chest. If, however, it is not nice and sunny.... Say windy and raining for instance... the Ash basically becomes complete misery.
The generally feeling one got in our morning camp was that paddling would be complete misery so needless to say no one was up early and into their wet kit. In fact we pretty much sat around looking at the rain thinking about our beds.
We all headed off for breakfast, pancakes and waffles at a local spot. Rejuvenated by food, warmth and banter we decided that we would give some paddling a bash. The general consensus was to head to bridge and run it.
We all headed up to Alles to get "warmed" up before hitting bridge. Al, who wasn't looking too keen on the idea of bridge was convinced when I told him I would run it. Bravely he asked me to run safety and without scouting again he headed into the drop. Al hadn't run it before so doing it in this weather was top notch move indeed. He styled through the entry but was knocked over in the drop, rolled and was shortly knocked over again. He rolled quickly just before hitting the shelf and made the window on the right. Nice one Alan.
Al Going for a crazy move down the drop. He was trying to style it for the ladies
Not really working out for him
Making it down the slide and hole, nice one AL
I headed down next without too much hassle this time.
Next the crocs came down one by one.
The infamous croc swim team pair, Don and Jo, headed down first. They styled it without too much hassle. I am a little worried that Don didn't swim at all this trip. It is completely against his nature.
Umko swim team captains, Jo and Don
Pat and Colin went next and tried a less orthodox approach, spinning the boat at the top, heading down the rest backward and hitting the hole sideways. Although they swam the hole didn't dish out much carnage due to the low Sunday level.
Pat and Colin trying it backward
In high spirits after doing some paddling we packed up and made lunch. Lunch turned into a Nick, Pat and Neil food fight. I think Nick ended up worst off.
Good trip, good times.
Nick after a food fight
What a great time, later!
Chris didn't stay sober on Friday night, not even a little bit. In fact he got so hammered he only woke up at 4pm on sat. Needless to say he didn't want to drive to the Ash on Sat night after a second party.
Thursday, March 26, 2009
Umko
Umko, day1 swim scorecard:
No1 3 boats, 5 people
No2 1 boat 1 person
No2 1 boat 1 person
No3 2 boats 3 people
No5 1 boat 2 people
Arb rapid after lunch 1 boat 2 people
Arb rapid with playspot 3 boats 4 people
So after no planning, the trips sea-sawing between going and not going and even where we where going, we left for the umkomaas on Friday afternoon. Thanks to a general lack of experience of the trip on Thursday, taking beginners just wasn't possible. But in the end would have been ok....
So after no planning, the trips sea-sawing between going and not going and even where we where going, we left for the umkomaas on Friday afternoon. Thanks to a general lack of experience of the trip on Thursday, taking beginners just wasn't possible. But in the end would have been ok....
The drive down is long as usual, we headed down in two cars. Chris Green, Chris Crogan, Don and Myself in one car and Jo, Rob and Paul in the other. We left a bit earlier and stopped in Mooi river for a beer and some supper. The other car met us there with not three but four people walking into the pub. The fourth, a rather boozed looking Alan grant, had decided at the last minute to come despite better judgement. Al had two test and and assignment the following week, he also didn't have any stuff. All he had was a dodgy sleeping bag he found in the storeroom. What a legend.
So we got there late after some driving in the mist. Apon driving down the steep incline to the campsite the kayaks seal launched off the roof onto the bonnet then the ground. The entire roof rack had come off. After we finished pissing ourselves we decided to stash the boats in the bushes and get them in the morn.
Saturdays paddle was good. The level was a lot lower than I was hoping for but still good. It was not all bad as Chris is new to kayaking and the river would be pushing his limits.
I headed down to the eddy above no 1 with the two chris', who were in kayaks. The rest where paddling crocs, even Al who's kayak was securely at home.
I checked out the drop, and after a rye smile to the two in the eddy pissed down. Yes it was a big hole and I new Chris Green wouldn't have paddled anything this big. Crogan made it down with no hassle and gave Chris the thumbs up. He cam down and with big eyes hit the hole. He flipped and swam, but non the less had a massive smile. The crocs came down next; Al made it down no hassle, Don and Jo swam as did Rob and Paul.
Don and Jo, swim 1 rapid 1
The rest of the rapids were filled with swim time and nice action. There are a few nice play spots along the way, which Crogan and I spent some time on.
Chris styling No.4
Enter 5&6, which is one rapid, probably the biggest on the section. At this low level the rapid is quite easy however a little technical as one has to run the pinnacle (right) line. With more water a chicken line opens on the left, which for croc is a better option. I went first and headed left of the pinnacle, as despite looking more difficult proved to be not too much hassle. Crogan and Chris headed down the right and made it easily. Al, Rob and Paul made the right line in their crocs without an issue. So, Don and Jo..... Crogan and I thought it would be a good time to flash them as the paddled past, off with the pants and we were running safety. The headed down and manged to flip, in true team chaos style on the reaction wave on the pinnacle rock. So, jumping over rocks while trying to pull up my pants we scampered to our boats to pick up the pieces. Jo may have got a rock in the ass, which made a fantastic bruise.
Me heading left of the pinnacle
Al cruising the right line
Apparently most of the trip never read my mail about the lunch plan, claiming they never got it. Most replied to said mail I would like to add. So the little lunch was split amongst the group, but we had a dry barrel of beer to look forward to come the take out. The rest of the river went along in similar fashion with the odd swim at unnumbered rapids.
One rapid in particular caused much chaos. Seeing a few waves and not much of difficulty I stopped to play and sent the rest down expecting everyone one to make it. Well, when I turned around there where no less than 3 boats without paddlers and a bent paddle. Not entirely sure how that happened but there must have been some sneaky feature in the path.
After some looking for the take out we, stopped paddling with time to spare. What was a cane field and a lapa is now a field due to a land claim on farm. So with the extra time we craked open our barrels of beer and started beering. In high spirits we climbed on the bukkie and started back, drinking more beer. What is generally a long cold shuttle turned into an epic party bus. We stopped in Richmond for more beer, where rob ripped apart a massive weed bush. The party bus continued with much urination during flight, except Crogan who stood most of the time at the back holding is pecker. The night proved to be a massive sleep fest.
On Sunday we opted for a shorter section with a easier shuttle so we could head off earlier. We put in above highover and paddle to 3.5. With a slightly lower level and everyone knowing the river we made it down with a lot less hassle.
Thanks guys and girl. Awesome trip, awesome mates, awesome times.
Saturday, January 24, 2009
Olifants
Penge (Or maybe the steelport) - Manoutsa
Are we Human or are we blumpie? ... Blumpie
On my drive back from Namibia, Chris while calling all the people in the world because he was home sick (or bored, one of the two), put Chevonne through to Al. "We're going to paddle the Olifants, you want to come?" she asked. "Any water?", I enquired, apparently there was, so a little paddle down the Olifants seemed like a great my to spend my newly found time and the last of my money.
Totally disconnected from all organisation, I happily headed off on this trip as one of the hanger-onners.
Haven't really been a hanger-onner on a WEES trip in quite some time, I quite enjoyed the experience. Don and Chevonne did a pretty damn good job at sorting out all the logistics. Chevonne also bought all the cans in the super market, which we had to pack into the crocs. While I gave her tons of abuse about the quantity of shit I did rather enjoy the meals.
So after making the trip late thanks to some police admin, Laura and I headed up in my car to meet Chevonne, Don, Al and Nick on the road. Thereafter, we headed off to find our trusty driver, Juugh, or something like that. Five or six U turns later and we found the man, all piled into his vehicle and headed to "Penge". "Penge" turned out to be the confluence with the Steelport, which is 20 km downstream from where we planned on putting in. The first thing that struck me was that the river was flowing the wrong direction, it also seemed to be smaller than was I was expecting. I initially suspected we where on the banks of the Steelport. Jugh assured me that with was the Olifants, feeling a little disoriented I took his word for it. He also commented my Flirt (play boat) was not a great choice of boat for this river. I thought we may have some interesting times on our hands.
He packed all the stuff in the world into the crocs, our supplies included many many cans, 20L of drinking water and no tents. These croc were not light. After an entertaining mating display from some donkeys we headed down the river.
Since we putin at about 4pm we decided to camp as soon as we found a good spot, which as it happened was about 15 minutes later. Our first camp site was under a large fig tree, between two rock fall spots. We erected our shelter and headed off to do some bouldering on the nearby cliff. It started to rain hard, so we all piled under the shelter and drank good olde OBS. Thankfully it stopped raining and we were able to get a good nights rest.
The following morning we all packed the gear in the boats and set off on the river, which we had now figured out was in fact the Steelport, ready for a day of big rapids brought on by the evenings rain. These rapids never came, basically we drifted down the fast flowing flat water admiring the scenery. After some paddling we decided to head up to a cave on a nearby cliff. After a dodgy scramble we made it, it wasn't the opening to a massive cave system we had hoped for. But the view was well worth the walk. A bit more flat water, some lunch, more flat water and we were looking for the next nights camp site. We stopped at one spot, which was nice but could have proved lethal if it rained. So with much objection from Chevonne we moved on.
The campsite we found was nice, a few trees to and some sand. We set up a shelter in preparation for the rain that Chevonne was adamant would miss us. After watching Nick eat some way too hot for him mild curry we all turned in for what was to be a moist night. At about 10pm the rain started. I climbed in my survival bag, Al in his bivvy and the rest in the not quite big enough shelter. At first the rain was soft and the only interruption in slumber was Chevonne trying to wake the gates of hades with chit chat about Don's newly formed bed lakes. The rain did not stop after it got harder nor did it get more cumfortable in my now cold and wet too-short plastic survival bag. No, it didn't stop raining in the morning either, so we had to pack up in the morning downpour worried that river would flood.
After some paddling the rapids arrived. The first section of rapids are caused by a narrowing in the gorge. They weren't too difficult and we pretty much bombed down without too much hassle. The next drop was a little more interesting, with a large pour-over at the bottom of the rapid, we scouted this one and ran it without too much hassle. Nick swam, but thanks to his black plastic bag top was able to get back in the boat mid rapid and captain his boat away from the retentive feature.
The best action is at the end of the section after the putin for the single day section. However, the scenery isn't quite as good as the upper flatter bit. The first rapid looked at first like a nice wave train. However, suspecting something "interesting" at the bottom, so I told Al and the crocs to stay in the eddy above the drop. It started off nicely but about half way down I could see things were getting interesting. I went right, should have gone left, and plugged into a rather large hole, almost got back-flipped and plugged into the smaller one below. First little bit of excitement for the morning. The spectacle from above had the rest of the group head down to check out the rapid. They all went left and missed the holes, how boring. The rest of the drops to the take out were nice read and run grade 3s and one long one pushing grade4. After some more paddling we arrived at the weir, which is the take out for the section. We paddled down the canal to the Manoutsa campsite where we spent the night and drank some beer. Below the weir is a nice looking grade 4 rapid, we gave it a miss due to the calling of cold beer and a cold nights sleep.
In the morning packed up and headed off to get our cars. Great trip, great section of water, good level, incredible scenery.
Are we Human or are we blumpie? ... Blumpie
On my drive back from Namibia, Chris while calling all the people in the world because he was home sick (or bored, one of the two), put Chevonne through to Al. "We're going to paddle the Olifants, you want to come?" she asked. "Any water?", I enquired, apparently there was, so a little paddle down the Olifants seemed like a great my to spend my newly found time and the last of my money.
Totally disconnected from all organisation, I happily headed off on this trip as one of the hanger-onners.
Haven't really been a hanger-onner on a WEES trip in quite some time, I quite enjoyed the experience. Don and Chevonne did a pretty damn good job at sorting out all the logistics. Chevonne also bought all the cans in the super market, which we had to pack into the crocs. While I gave her tons of abuse about the quantity of shit I did rather enjoy the meals.
So after making the trip late thanks to some police admin, Laura and I headed up in my car to meet Chevonne, Don, Al and Nick on the road. Thereafter, we headed off to find our trusty driver, Juugh, or something like that. Five or six U turns later and we found the man, all piled into his vehicle and headed to "Penge". "Penge" turned out to be the confluence with the Steelport, which is 20 km downstream from where we planned on putting in. The first thing that struck me was that the river was flowing the wrong direction, it also seemed to be smaller than was I was expecting. I initially suspected we where on the banks of the Steelport. Jugh assured me that with was the Olifants, feeling a little disoriented I took his word for it. He also commented my Flirt (play boat) was not a great choice of boat for this river. I thought we may have some interesting times on our hands.
He packed all the stuff in the world into the crocs, our supplies included many many cans, 20L of drinking water and no tents. These croc were not light. After an entertaining mating display from some donkeys we headed down the river.
Since we putin at about 4pm we decided to camp as soon as we found a good spot, which as it happened was about 15 minutes later. Our first camp site was under a large fig tree, between two rock fall spots. We erected our shelter and headed off to do some bouldering on the nearby cliff. It started to rain hard, so we all piled under the shelter and drank good olde OBS. Thankfully it stopped raining and we were able to get a good nights rest.
The following morning we all packed the gear in the boats and set off on the river, which we had now figured out was in fact the Steelport, ready for a day of big rapids brought on by the evenings rain. These rapids never came, basically we drifted down the fast flowing flat water admiring the scenery. After some paddling we decided to head up to a cave on a nearby cliff. After a dodgy scramble we made it, it wasn't the opening to a massive cave system we had hoped for. But the view was well worth the walk. A bit more flat water, some lunch, more flat water and we were looking for the next nights camp site. We stopped at one spot, which was nice but could have proved lethal if it rained. So with much objection from Chevonne we moved on.
The campsite we found was nice, a few trees to and some sand. We set up a shelter in preparation for the rain that Chevonne was adamant would miss us. After watching Nick eat some way too hot for him mild curry we all turned in for what was to be a moist night. At about 10pm the rain started. I climbed in my survival bag, Al in his bivvy and the rest in the not quite big enough shelter. At first the rain was soft and the only interruption in slumber was Chevonne trying to wake the gates of hades with chit chat about Don's newly formed bed lakes. The rain did not stop after it got harder nor did it get more cumfortable in my now cold and wet too-short plastic survival bag. No, it didn't stop raining in the morning either, so we had to pack up in the morning downpour worried that river would flood.
After some paddling the rapids arrived. The first section of rapids are caused by a narrowing in the gorge. They weren't too difficult and we pretty much bombed down without too much hassle. The next drop was a little more interesting, with a large pour-over at the bottom of the rapid, we scouted this one and ran it without too much hassle. Nick swam, but thanks to his black plastic bag top was able to get back in the boat mid rapid and captain his boat away from the retentive feature.
The best action is at the end of the section after the putin for the single day section. However, the scenery isn't quite as good as the upper flatter bit. The first rapid looked at first like a nice wave train. However, suspecting something "interesting" at the bottom, so I told Al and the crocs to stay in the eddy above the drop. It started off nicely but about half way down I could see things were getting interesting. I went right, should have gone left, and plugged into a rather large hole, almost got back-flipped and plugged into the smaller one below. First little bit of excitement for the morning. The spectacle from above had the rest of the group head down to check out the rapid. They all went left and missed the holes, how boring. The rest of the drops to the take out were nice read and run grade 3s and one long one pushing grade4. After some more paddling we arrived at the weir, which is the take out for the section. We paddled down the canal to the Manoutsa campsite where we spent the night and drank some beer. Below the weir is a nice looking grade 4 rapid, we gave it a miss due to the calling of cold beer and a cold nights sleep.
In the morning packed up and headed off to get our cars. Great trip, great section of water, good level, incredible scenery.
Wednesday, July 02, 2008
Beginners Hike 2008
The Beginners Hike, 2008, Injusuthi Again
I had a brilliant idea for this trip report that failed horribly. The idea was to use everyone on the trip to do a bit for the trip report, and then put all the little bits together to create a report that brings everyone’s view together to create a holistic multi-faceted approach to trip reporting. Of course no one actually did their bit, so this report is made of two views, that of mine and that of Mike Demers. Let us start with Mike’s introduction:
“Hey Hoosain,
Here is a small part of our trip report. Hope no one else wrote about
the beginning part yet. Feel free to make it more Brittish/SA if I
made anything sound too American.
Michael
On Friday March _, 2008, Hoosain, Laura, Sara, and I left Wits in
Joanna's nice red car. Our ride to Harrismith and Injasuthi was
uncharacteristically quiet and our group would retain the reputation
as the "quiet car" for the rest of the journey. We left Wits at around
2:30pm, and although Willem's Jeep-load of Explorers did not leave
campus until 5:00pm, they arrived at Injasuthi merely half an hour
after us. This incredible folding of space and time can be attributed
largely to Willem's encyclopedic knowledge of KZN back roads – a
considerable advantage to the other car – and our own groups wasteful
use of 2.5 hours at the Nando's and surrounding biltong shops in
Harrismith.
As darkness fell, we found ourselves on a dark road that we could only
know was on a hillside from the position of lights in the settlements
below us. Somnambulant figures appeared and reappeared out of complete
darkness. Even late at night, our road was an active pedestrian
thoroughfare connecting village residents with a shebeen located at
the road's entrance. Several dogs were also observed in the area. When
our car's engine overheated, we took a break of 30 minutes to allow
its internal workings to "chill out." Initial attempts to summon one
or more of the township dogs were made by one Explorer, though
actively discouraged by others. In the quiet night, we could hear the
nearby river.
Arriving at the Injasuthi park gate, Hoosain was the first to climb
over the fence and make a first pass at finding a security guard to
unlock it for us. He returned after not finding it at first, and I
went up the hill with him, but found nothing again. On the hill our
cell phones were able to access Vodacom service, and we called Willem
to confirm that there was indeed a hut with security guards. Walking
back up the hill, further along a divergent path not taken last time,
Hoosain and I encountered a group of abandoned-looking huts. We yelled
for about 5 minutes, sounding ridiculous. Finally, a guard came out
with a machine gun over his shoulder to unlock the gate for us. At the
foot of the hill, we waited for Willem's car, as we knew from our cell
phone conversation that they were only 30 minutes away. Negotiating
with the guard (a first for me: bargaining with a person with a
machine gun whose first language is not English) we waited for Willem
and then drove to the camp where we laid out sleeping backs on the
grass.
Waking the next morning, everyone was surprised to see that we were
actually in the middle of the Drakensberg Mountains (at least I was).
Signs posted at the bathroom warned us to beware a "problem animal," a
baboon that was known to take campers' food. After liberally applying
sunscreen and a quick breakfast, we were off to the trail for what
would be, at times, an arduous trek to the Marble Baths Cave.
“
The hike up to the Marble Baths Cave is quite easy or so I thought, but after the first km, many in the group thought otherwise. The hiking was fairly slow and chilled out. With odd outbursts of song from Cai, about a vulgar Engineer and his Wife. We stopped several times, collapsed out of exhaustion once and I spent a lot of the day convincing some beginners that the cave was just around the next corner. The higher we went the more radical became the views, ranging from lone waterfalls high-up hilly peaks &cliffs to sweeping backs of giant mountains.
At one time, on a particularly challenging uphill, the group then split in half decided to just plop down on the path in utter exhaustion and eat apples. The only person energetic enough to run between the groups, and please note, not walk, run, was Willem. It is almost like mother-nature turned her face away from us for that moment, as even though we’d heard of survival of the fittest, we wanted nothing to do with it. Sometimes I wonder how humans made it to that lone top wrung. Hmm
We made it to the cave in about 5-6 hours, after a hasty lunch, we headed down to the Marble Baths for an afternoon of swimming and chilling in the icy cold water of the Marble Baths. Everyone got wet and cold, and spent the afternoon as a neutralizer for the day of hiking preceding. An afternoon of utter languor! Quite heavenly now that I think back. And before I realized, the early night was over, the hike back was a breeze and we were leaving the beauty of the Berg for the bright lights and tuts and traffics of the city. If only I could stop time on trips, if only
.
I had a brilliant idea for this trip report that failed horribly. The idea was to use everyone on the trip to do a bit for the trip report, and then put all the little bits together to create a report that brings everyone’s view together to create a holistic multi-faceted approach to trip reporting. Of course no one actually did their bit, so this report is made of two views, that of mine and that of Mike Demers. Let us start with Mike’s introduction:
“Hey Hoosain,
Here is a small part of our trip report. Hope no one else wrote about
the beginning part yet. Feel free to make it more Brittish/SA if I
made anything sound too American.
Michael
On Friday March _, 2008, Hoosain, Laura, Sara, and I left Wits in
Joanna's nice red car. Our ride to Harrismith and Injasuthi was
uncharacteristically quiet and our group would retain the reputation
as the "quiet car" for the rest of the journey. We left Wits at around
2:30pm, and although Willem's Jeep-load of Explorers did not leave
campus until 5:00pm, they arrived at Injasuthi merely half an hour
after us. This incredible folding of space and time can be attributed
largely to Willem's encyclopedic knowledge of KZN back roads – a
considerable advantage to the other car – and our own groups wasteful
use of 2.5 hours at the Nando's and surrounding biltong shops in
Harrismith.
As darkness fell, we found ourselves on a dark road that we could only
know was on a hillside from the position of lights in the settlements
below us. Somnambulant figures appeared and reappeared out of complete
darkness. Even late at night, our road was an active pedestrian
thoroughfare connecting village residents with a shebeen located at
the road's entrance. Several dogs were also observed in the area. When
our car's engine overheated, we took a break of 30 minutes to allow
its internal workings to "chill out." Initial attempts to summon one
or more of the township dogs were made by one Explorer, though
actively discouraged by others. In the quiet night, we could hear the
nearby river.
Arriving at the Injasuthi park gate, Hoosain was the first to climb
over the fence and make a first pass at finding a security guard to
unlock it for us. He returned after not finding it at first, and I
went up the hill with him, but found nothing again. On the hill our
cell phones were able to access Vodacom service, and we called Willem
to confirm that there was indeed a hut with security guards. Walking
back up the hill, further along a divergent path not taken last time,
Hoosain and I encountered a group of abandoned-looking huts. We yelled
for about 5 minutes, sounding ridiculous. Finally, a guard came out
with a machine gun over his shoulder to unlock the gate for us. At the
foot of the hill, we waited for Willem's car, as we knew from our cell
phone conversation that they were only 30 minutes away. Negotiating
with the guard (a first for me: bargaining with a person with a
machine gun whose first language is not English) we waited for Willem
and then drove to the camp where we laid out sleeping backs on the
grass.
Waking the next morning, everyone was surprised to see that we were
actually in the middle of the Drakensberg Mountains (at least I was).
Signs posted at the bathroom warned us to beware a "problem animal," a
baboon that was known to take campers' food. After liberally applying
sunscreen and a quick breakfast, we were off to the trail for what
would be, at times, an arduous trek to the Marble Baths Cave.
“
The hike up to the Marble Baths Cave is quite easy or so I thought, but after the first km, many in the group thought otherwise. The hiking was fairly slow and chilled out. With odd outbursts of song from Cai, about a vulgar Engineer and his Wife. We stopped several times, collapsed out of exhaustion once and I spent a lot of the day convincing some beginners that the cave was just around the next corner. The higher we went the more radical became the views, ranging from lone waterfalls high-up hilly peaks &cliffs to sweeping backs of giant mountains.
At one time, on a particularly challenging uphill, the group then split in half decided to just plop down on the path in utter exhaustion and eat apples. The only person energetic enough to run between the groups, and please note, not walk, run, was Willem. It is almost like mother-nature turned her face away from us for that moment, as even though we’d heard of survival of the fittest, we wanted nothing to do with it. Sometimes I wonder how humans made it to that lone top wrung. Hmm
We made it to the cave in about 5-6 hours, after a hasty lunch, we headed down to the Marble Baths for an afternoon of swimming and chilling in the icy cold water of the Marble Baths. Everyone got wet and cold, and spent the afternoon as a neutralizer for the day of hiking preceding. An afternoon of utter languor! Quite heavenly now that I think back. And before I realized, the early night was over, the hike back was a breeze and we were leaving the beauty of the Berg for the bright lights and tuts and traffics of the city. If only I could stop time on trips, if only
.Friday, May 09, 2008
Monday, February 04, 2008
Gatsien 03/02
I landed on Saturday after what was a very long flight and wait at airport. Got hold of Chris (who was suitably rat-ass'd) and decided to head to Gatsien on Sunday to christen his new Wavesport EZG 60.
I convinced Laura to come too and the three of use headed down. Chris, who was looking a little more than hungover, hopped in the back and slept most of the way there.
We got there middayish and headed down to Gatsine, which, while not at an amazing level was still nice. We could all work on moves, with it not being to flushy or trashy.
Here are some of the pics:
I convinced Laura to come too and the three of use headed down. Chris, who was looking a little more than hungover, hopped in the back and slept most of the way there.
We got there middayish and headed down to Gatsine, which, while not at an amazing level was still nice. We could all work on moves, with it not being to flushy or trashy.
Here are some of the pics:
Saturday, January 12, 2008
VAAL @ 120 (9Jan)
When the Vaal goes to 120, you can't pass up the opportunity to get down there as soon as possible! Luckily, Nicklouse and Dwane the Dog were super keen and Dwane's girlfriend, Stacey, and their friends Damian and Kieran came too and it was festiveness all round.
Jhb was wet and miserable when we left and Parys was much the same when we arrived, fortunately the weather came to the party and the sun shone and the overhead freshness (that which we do not name!) was favourable. In fact so favourable that on the flats, between the freshness and the current, we never even paddled, just strapped the boats together and floated down.
Nick & Don trying hard not to do much on the float-down...
Big Daddy was good times, thanks Nick for making none of the eddies on the left so we didn't have a rope. Thanks Don for making the second one to cover our asses.
Nick in action... Don in action...
We did make a stop so that the boys could hop of the bridge going to the new golf course with the ugly ass fountain at the entrance - not that ugly ass fountains are uncommon in Parys!
The rest of the day was normal festiveness... lunch at Paradise, pity the hole was washed out. But the hole at Theatre made up for it, nice!! Gatsien was good times, but moving rather quickly so was a schlep back up river... especially for those who thought a swim was necessary.
Good times... thanks all!
Jhb was wet and miserable when we left and Parys was much the same when we arrived, fortunately the weather came to the party and the sun shone and the overhead freshness (that which we do not name!) was favourable. In fact so favourable that on the flats, between the freshness and the current, we never even paddled, just strapped the boats together and floated down.
Nick & Don trying hard not to do much on the float-down...Big Daddy was good times, thanks Nick for making none of the eddies on the left so we didn't have a rope. Thanks Don for making the second one to cover our asses.
Nick in action... Don in action...
We did make a stop so that the boys could hop of the bridge going to the new golf course with the ugly ass fountain at the entrance - not that ugly ass fountains are uncommon in Parys!
The rest of the day was normal festiveness... lunch at Paradise, pity the hole was washed out. But the hole at Theatre made up for it, nice!! Gatsien was good times, but moving rather quickly so was a schlep back up river... especially for those who thought a swim was necessary.
Good times... thanks all!
Friday, December 21, 2007
Upper Umkomaas
Long weekends are like gold in a working man's life and I wasn't going to let this once go without some kind of trip. Unfortunately most people already had plans and could not make it. So in the end it was just Laura, Bryden and Myself heading down from JHB and Mike meeting us there from Umkomaas.
We drove down on Saturday morning as to avoid the late night drive, it didn't however help us avoid the traffic. Fortunately as the traffic started to get bad we turned off to Bulwer where we were met with heavy mist and put our Saturday paddling plans to bed. Our plan was to go and paddle either the Umzumkulu waterfall section or the Umko section below Lundies. I decided to go check out the waterfall section as I hadn't ever been there. After a lot of driving we found the put in on Stoke's farm, where a new camp site is being built, which, when finished will be great for paddlers.
As there was only two of us keen and we never knew the section and the weather was getting dodge we gave paddling the full section a miss. I paddled the first drop on the section which is a nice easy 3 metre waterfall right at the putin. I ran it twice although at this low level it's a piece of cake.
3Metre on waterfall section
We headed back to the Nip Inn at Bulwer where we were staying after a few close encounters with goats in the mist. The weather was really getting horrid and we opted for staying in a bungalow instead of camping. Maybe I am getting soft in my old age but a soft dry bed was great.
Mike met us there first thing in the morning and after many sorrys we piled into my bakkie and headed for the putin. The water was... drum roll.... low. Horribly low, well maybe not horribly but about as low as you would like to run it in a croc. I headed back to the Nip Inn and sorted out the drive round. We headed off and paddled the endless flat before the first gorge. This section has a nice set of rapids after an hour or so into the trip. It starts off with a largish one and is then fairly continuous with smaller grade 3 odd rapids before an nice technical one. At this low level not too many problems where encountered except for getting the croc stuck on the odd rock.
Mike and me surfing a small wave
We drove down on Saturday morning as to avoid the late night drive, it didn't however help us avoid the traffic. Fortunately as the traffic started to get bad we turned off to Bulwer where we were met with heavy mist and put our Saturday paddling plans to bed. Our plan was to go and paddle either the Umzumkulu waterfall section or the Umko section below Lundies. I decided to go check out the waterfall section as I hadn't ever been there. After a lot of driving we found the put in on Stoke's farm, where a new camp site is being built, which, when finished will be great for paddlers.
As there was only two of us keen and we never knew the section and the weather was getting dodge we gave paddling the full section a miss. I paddled the first drop on the section which is a nice easy 3 metre waterfall right at the putin. I ran it twice although at this low level it's a piece of cake.
3Metre on waterfall section
We headed back to the Nip Inn at Bulwer where we were staying after a few close encounters with goats in the mist. The weather was really getting horrid and we opted for staying in a bungalow instead of camping. Maybe I am getting soft in my old age but a soft dry bed was great.
Mike met us there first thing in the morning and after many sorrys we piled into my bakkie and headed for the putin. The water was... drum roll.... low. Horribly low, well maybe not horribly but about as low as you would like to run it in a croc. I headed back to the Nip Inn and sorted out the drive round. We headed off and paddled the endless flat before the first gorge. This section has a nice set of rapids after an hour or so into the trip. It starts off with a largish one and is then fairly continuous with smaller grade 3 odd rapids before an nice technical one. At this low level not too many problems where encountered except for getting the croc stuck on the odd rock.
Mike and me surfing a small wave
After the gorge the river flattens out and with nothing more than the odd wave train. Just about half way and when you are least expecting it there is a somewhat nasty drop at the bottom of an innocuous wave train. The croc gave this one a miss and Mike and I ran it. I went first, I over boofed, was pushed up against the wall and went over. Not too much off a problem as the channel is quite deep, just a little narrow. Mike's run was better although he also hit the wall.
My run down the narrow drop
My run down the narrow drop
We camped shortly after this rapid and got ready of a wet night. Mike and Bryden made an awesome fire, which with coffee, raised our spirits. Thankfully we had decided to take tents which made the night a whole lot more comfy as it rained on add off all night.
What the rain did not do was increase the level, so we headed off slowly down the river. The river goes into another smaller gorge again. There are a few nice rapids. There was one which was just too bony get the croc down, so Bryden paddle half of it and we lined it down the rest. Mike and I ran it with out too much difficulty.
After the gorge there is one small natural weir, avoid the left as the suck back is bad but at low levels you can run it pretty much dead centre. From here on the river flattens out a lot and it is a bit of a haul to the tale out. The heavens opened as we reached the first bridge, it was decided to get out there and deal with a crappy take out. Mike and I hitched a lift from a very generous truck driver. We landed up going through a road block and had to plead with the officers as to why there where 4 of us in the front of the cab. After much chatting we were let off and did the rest of the drive round.
Great trip, great river, more water would have been nice but what can you do.
Thanks okes for a killer trip, pitty more people didn't come. This is a great section for explorers trips, nice rapids, not too much flat and fairly easy logistics.
All photos by Laura Manley
What the rain did not do was increase the level, so we headed off slowly down the river. The river goes into another smaller gorge again. There are a few nice rapids. There was one which was just too bony get the croc down, so Bryden paddle half of it and we lined it down the rest. Mike and I ran it with out too much difficulty.
After the gorge there is one small natural weir, avoid the left as the suck back is bad but at low levels you can run it pretty much dead centre. From here on the river flattens out a lot and it is a bit of a haul to the tale out. The heavens opened as we reached the first bridge, it was decided to get out there and deal with a crappy take out. Mike and I hitched a lift from a very generous truck driver. We landed up going through a road block and had to plead with the officers as to why there where 4 of us in the front of the cab. After much chatting we were let off and did the rest of the drive round.
Great trip, great river, more water would have been nice but what can you do.
Thanks okes for a killer trip, pitty more people didn't come. This is a great section for explorers trips, nice rapids, not too much flat and fairly easy logistics.
All photos by Laura Manley
Tuesday, November 20, 2007
8 days, 2 rivers, 3 surfs and 2 broken paddles
Dave, Chris and I had planned to head down to the Bivane river to marshal the iThala challenge canoe race. The Bivane is full of nice grade 3 and 4 rapids in one of most beautiful gorges around. The later part of the river flows past the iThala game reserve and you can see some great stuff during the paddle.
Work however threw a bit of a spanner in the works, I was to be going to Durban the week after the race. With little time we organised lifts for Dave and Chris with Rob and Andy Mac who where paddling the canoe race, thanks guys! So we headed down on early Friday afternoon and arrived at Bivane dam shortly after sunset. We chatted to the guys organising the martials and headed off to bed as we had to be on the river at 5am the next morning.
Basically we had to get on the river early, paddle down to our martialling points, once the sweeps past paddle the remainder of the river. Well easier said than done as the section is 42km long and my point was 18km from the start, so I was expecting quite a haul. Too my surprise we got to our points very quickly, this due to the fact that the river flows well on the upper section with the best rapids. We read and ran most of the rapids which was great fun and at times was made interesting by the early morning sun in your eyes. I really enjoyed the paddle down, chatting to the other martails, who were a great group of guys.
I bid fairwell to Chris and Dave at my rapid who were to be stationed at the next big rapid, which is the biggest on the river.
Unbeknown to me but Chris had broken his indestructible Riot paddle at my rapid. I had the spare but he decided to paddle to his rapid and wait for me there. There where a few interesting rapids between and I'm sure he had an interesting time.
I met Dave at Chris at big drop, where, after scouting the drop all ran it. Chris was feeling a little apprehensive, understandably after breaking a paddle, but still ran the drop nicely.
From big drop to the end the river starts to flatten out a big with far less big rapids. We hauled down to the Pongola confluence where we where instructed to get out.
After some rather unpleasant admin to get out boats and lifts sorted out I bid fair well to Chris, Dave and Philip and headed down to Durban. Unfortunately I got there too late to paddle on the Sunday. I was working there so never had much time to paddle but in the afternoons I headed down to the beach to play in the surf. The surf was rather small but trashy non the less as all the waves were dumping. I still had a great time even though I'm rather crap when it comes to surf kayaking.
I left Durban on Friday and headed up to Clarens, I was hoping I could paddle in Natal but alas there was no water around. I was to meet up with Ernie and Dave Joyce to paddle the Ash on Sat morning which left Friday night free for me to chill. There as a massive party going down at the backpackers so rather than paying R100 to be kept up all night I chose to head to the end of town and sleep there.
I tried to sort out the permits before the other guys got there but there was some issue and we could not get them. Rather unimpressed we headed to the river and up in at bridge and paddled the rest of the section.
Monday, October 29, 2007
The Coast of Contradictions
The Coast of Contradictions
Only at the ocean, at the locks of Mother Nature’s temperamental tresses, can I get in touch with my emotions. Maybe it’s the consistency and cadence, of the ebb and flow, or the balance of trough and crest, such a magical metaphor, an eternal statement of truth, balance and beauty, the making of dreams. It’s believed by many that life originated from water, the salty depths of Neptune’s palace. Maybe this is the reason human beings who are in their means; migrate towards the palace each year. I feel an umbilical pull towards her, a yearning each year to be in her awesome presence, to prostrate on her golden shore, to greet her waves, to indulge in her breath. Mine is an infatuation, a passionate vogue.
I’m on my yearly migration to my summer grazing spot, the coast of contradictions. As my herd travels, we make stops every three hours to graze and refresh ourselves before we undertake our journey once again. I come from a grumbling herd of animals; the first hour we spend together of the journey, is longer than we’ve spent together in the last six months or so. Once again our alpha male and female are vying for the spot of group leader. The herd juniors taking key from the elders, start brawling, our animalistic instincts are inherited, and the genes of violence, pettiness and animalism win once again. In the eternal debate between nature and nurture, nature earns a brownie point.
Whenever I am a guest at Neptune’s citadel, I have an odd superstitious ritual. I walk towards her my hands at my sides, slightly apart. I walk straight towards the ocean’s bosom, without flinching at the cool water. It’s something deeply religious for me, deeply spiritual for me. I feel like it’s my connection with a power, power so awesome it causes this closed system of Life to occur. A Power of balance and majesty. It replaces the space of common ritualistic religion with a sort of connection. A sort of inner understanding of my place, my life in comparison to the world, the wild wind of change and destiny we call home, we call life.
I have arrived at the summer migration grounds, and it is time for us to adorn ourselves to attract mates, summer is the time when most human mating occurs. Many of the older members of the herd mate their original mates, but this fact is not really what interests me. It is the young members of the herd who are in search of their mates that are a matter of interest to me. The males seemed to have caught on to a mating trend of shedding most of their fur, but that of the tops of their heads. This fur they style in upward sorts. They also cover their eyes with dark reflective material. They tend to dress in small coverings in various designs made of synthetic material which cover the body from the bottom of the waist to various lengths around the knee. The females remove all fur except for that on the tops of their heads; they dress in odd outfits that cover their breasts and crotch area (which resemble 3 triangular shapes of material). They often were these outfits in bright colors to attract the male eye. The males often do mock physical activities to attract females, while females chatter in loud high pitched chants to attract male attention.
It is solely at the ocean that I can become in touch with my emotions. I seem to just let them build up, and the ocean seems to iron out all the tensions and stresses. I think it’s probably the reliability of the ocean and her waves that attracts me, unlike the land of metamorphosis, the raging rat race of existence. My tears flow easily when I’m at the ocean, when the waves wash over me, cleaning my soul. It is at the ocean I question myself, it is at my yearly migration I’m able to put myself into perspective. I felt like I was a jarhead in the Iraqi war, a distant nobody fighting a battle that I knew was worthless. I felt like I was a mere spectator in my life, a bystander a forgotten face at the meandering mall of life. What have I achieved for my life? What do I have to show? I question, I seek through the silky sand for answers to my philosophy. And like the exfoliating properties of the sand, I break away from the dead emotion; I shed the old to reveal a new me, a new beginning, a new chapter.
Take a trip to the coast of contradictions next holiday season, and after you graze and herd, take leave from the mundane. Take a lonely trip down to Neptune’s palace and other then the wonders of Mother Nature’s luminescent tresses, you might just find yourself.
Just some weird, abstract, random food for thought,
Peace
hoosain khan
Only at the ocean, at the locks of Mother Nature’s temperamental tresses, can I get in touch with my emotions. Maybe it’s the consistency and cadence, of the ebb and flow, or the balance of trough and crest, such a magical metaphor, an eternal statement of truth, balance and beauty, the making of dreams. It’s believed by many that life originated from water, the salty depths of Neptune’s palace. Maybe this is the reason human beings who are in their means; migrate towards the palace each year. I feel an umbilical pull towards her, a yearning each year to be in her awesome presence, to prostrate on her golden shore, to greet her waves, to indulge in her breath. Mine is an infatuation, a passionate vogue.
I’m on my yearly migration to my summer grazing spot, the coast of contradictions. As my herd travels, we make stops every three hours to graze and refresh ourselves before we undertake our journey once again. I come from a grumbling herd of animals; the first hour we spend together of the journey, is longer than we’ve spent together in the last six months or so. Once again our alpha male and female are vying for the spot of group leader. The herd juniors taking key from the elders, start brawling, our animalistic instincts are inherited, and the genes of violence, pettiness and animalism win once again. In the eternal debate between nature and nurture, nature earns a brownie point.
Whenever I am a guest at Neptune’s citadel, I have an odd superstitious ritual. I walk towards her my hands at my sides, slightly apart. I walk straight towards the ocean’s bosom, without flinching at the cool water. It’s something deeply religious for me, deeply spiritual for me. I feel like it’s my connection with a power, power so awesome it causes this closed system of Life to occur. A Power of balance and majesty. It replaces the space of common ritualistic religion with a sort of connection. A sort of inner understanding of my place, my life in comparison to the world, the wild wind of change and destiny we call home, we call life.
I have arrived at the summer migration grounds, and it is time for us to adorn ourselves to attract mates, summer is the time when most human mating occurs. Many of the older members of the herd mate their original mates, but this fact is not really what interests me. It is the young members of the herd who are in search of their mates that are a matter of interest to me. The males seemed to have caught on to a mating trend of shedding most of their fur, but that of the tops of their heads. This fur they style in upward sorts. They also cover their eyes with dark reflective material. They tend to dress in small coverings in various designs made of synthetic material which cover the body from the bottom of the waist to various lengths around the knee. The females remove all fur except for that on the tops of their heads; they dress in odd outfits that cover their breasts and crotch area (which resemble 3 triangular shapes of material). They often were these outfits in bright colors to attract the male eye. The males often do mock physical activities to attract females, while females chatter in loud high pitched chants to attract male attention.
It is solely at the ocean that I can become in touch with my emotions. I seem to just let them build up, and the ocean seems to iron out all the tensions and stresses. I think it’s probably the reliability of the ocean and her waves that attracts me, unlike the land of metamorphosis, the raging rat race of existence. My tears flow easily when I’m at the ocean, when the waves wash over me, cleaning my soul. It is at the ocean I question myself, it is at my yearly migration I’m able to put myself into perspective. I felt like I was a jarhead in the Iraqi war, a distant nobody fighting a battle that I knew was worthless. I felt like I was a mere spectator in my life, a bystander a forgotten face at the meandering mall of life. What have I achieved for my life? What do I have to show? I question, I seek through the silky sand for answers to my philosophy. And like the exfoliating properties of the sand, I break away from the dead emotion; I shed the old to reveal a new me, a new beginning, a new chapter.
Take a trip to the coast of contradictions next holiday season, and after you graze and herd, take leave from the mundane. Take a lonely trip down to Neptune’s palace and other then the wonders of Mother Nature’s luminescent tresses, you might just find yourself.
Just some weird, abstract, random food for thought,
Peace
hoosain khan
P.S. anyone interested in the Otto Trail?
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