When we get up, the sun is just coming out. The golden-white peaks pierce the sky. The day before we didn't make as much progress downstream as we planned, so we need to catch up. We discuss the formation - two kayaks in front to find eddies large enough for the catarafts, then the catarafts themselves, and finally me - watching out in case there's trouble.
The morning starts with a mishap. Boris disappears over the horizon line of the first drop of the day, but doesn't show up in the pool below. We watch Slava get out of his boat, but he doesn't signal for help. So we keep watching. The minutes stretch as they always do when you know that something is wrong but don't know how bad it is. Finally, Slava and Boris emerge together and wave us on.
The river keeps us busy. As I cut across a tongue on one of the drops, the kayak hits something head-on and stops. For a split second I'm pinned under the current, but then the boat wiggles sideways, flips and floats free. The blow almost knocks the air out of me, which is bad because I'm upside-down. The first roll attempt fails, but on the second one I come up - to find myself on the lip of another drop, with just enough time to avoid the next hole. This is fun!
We are looking at the last Class V of the day. It's more than half a mile long. I walk along the boulders on the left shore, trying to see what we are dealing with. The river grows wide here, but then a boulder garden in the middle chokes it to a third of its width. Two holes guard the approach, one seems powerful enough to be dangerous, both should be avoided. Further downstream on the right there's a pyramid-shaped tooth of a rock. The water piles up on it forming a pillow, and next to it I can see a hole that looks like bad news. Then the river turns and flows towards the steep left bank. I can see a few large pourovers there, with enough room to slide between them. An ancient temple with a perfectly round white roof perched on the cliff face, overlooking the rapid. There is a footbridge across the gorge, and it hangs low under the weight of all the spectators. It seems like the locals are ready for entertainment.
After everybody walks down and looks at the rapid, we try to form a plan. The more we talk about it, the more it looks like an old puzzle about crossing a river with a goat, a wolf, and a head of cabbage. We need to set up the safety ropes and the cameras, run the rapid, and to be out of here before the nightfall! It takes a good fifteen minutes to walk the length of the rapid, and it's already late in a day. Finally, the "film and safety" crew takes the ropes and the cameras and starts walking downstream. Slava and I wait for a while to give them the head start. He tells me to watch out for two large holes on the bottom of the last drop. Then we slide into the current together. We'll watch each other in the water, and then set up safety for the rest of the group.
We paddle alongside for a while, then separate to avoid getting into each other's way. The first hole is easy to avoid. We catch an eddy in the center to get our bearings, and then start into the main drop. The pyramid rock is downstream on the right, a perfect visual cue. I cross the main current heading towards the pyramid. It seems that, if I'm too far from the rock, the current will push me into the bad-news hole. If I come too close to the rock - I'll bounce off the pillow, again into the same hole. But if I come just right, I'll punch through the bottom of the pillow where it's weak and get into the eddy behind the rock, avoiding the hole. The pillow comes closer, and then I'm through! I catch a glimpse of Slava entering an eddy on the left, he seems okay. I've gotten past the hard stuff, the rest is easy, I'll play it by ear. I shift left, get caught in a hole, side-surf along and catch green water with the paddle. The tongue picks me up and dumps me into the next hole that promptly flips me. Next thing I know - I'm upside-down, getting another thrashing, hoping this isn't one of the big holes Slava was talking about. Play it by ear indeed... I roll up on the bottom. In a few seconds Slava comes down - he chose a line closer to the center, avoided the holes and kept his head above the water.
Now it's the turn of the catarafts. Oleg and Dima go first. They narrowly miss one hole, but the next one turns them around. They swing left and hesitate, picking one of the two channels around a pourover. Left or right? Right or left? They take it head-on, and the cataraft frame gets firmly lodged on top of the rock. Nobody seems to be in danger, and I take my time snapping pictures. After some struggle, the cataraft slides off and lands in the eddy.
Boris and Lev run the rapid on the second cataraft. They start on the same line that Oleg and Dima did, only they make it work.
Now, Boris runs upstream, this time for his kayak. He leaves nothing to chance and takes no prisoners, going full-speed on a straight line, punching holes head-on, pushing aside boulders and straightening the riverbed.
A last cheer comes from the spectators on the footbridge, and we start going downstream.
In less than a mile, we are rewarded with a perfect campsite. There's ample room for tents, wood for the fire, and a nice view.
For a change, the morning is a bit slower paced. The meadow is quiet and dewy. Our camp is on the west bank, so the sun is out early. I busy myself trying to fix the leaky hall of my boat. I cut a few strips off a plastic bag, stuff them into the cracks and melt the edge with a lighter. Hopefully, this will hold water better than the duct tape I used two days ago. The plastic is stubborn - as soon as I finish stuffing one end of a strip into a crack, another one pops free.
Boris is busy with Lev's sunburn. They are sitting in a shadow of a boulder. For a change, Lev is looking like a burn victim he is.
Some insect keeps making noise like an electric buzzard. It seems to follow us from the beginning of the trip - the sound is so high in pitch that we can't tell where it's coming from. Sometimes it grows quieter, but never completely goes away.
After a while, everything is packed into the dry-bags, and we are on the water once more. Slava spots a group of monkeys off in the distance, they scatter and run off as we come closer. Then the slalom resumes, and the slow dreamy morning is no more! Soon I'm back in my action mode - nothing matters but the next wave and the next hole behind it. One of the larger holes stops and flips me. I get windowshaded, then flush out. Roll up and keep going! Another hole goes across the whole river. I try to jump through the right corner, but a small hole stops me at the last instance. I fell intro the big one and feel the first end-over-end flip. The next few moments I spend tucked into my boat, waiting until the river is done with me and quietly reflecting on the importance of oxygen. Yet another drop - I flip and hit a rock while rolling. I can feel it scraping the faceguard. At least something works right!
At one point, a jet of water goes straight into a vertical rock wall. A cataraft with Lev and Alka broaches sideways. For a short instance, Alka's tube is underwater, but then it comes up to the surface and the cataraft floats free.
There's a rock on the right shore, with the current piling up on forming a huge pillow. I jump right, the boat flies on the pillow and gets airborne!
Some time in the mid-afternoon, as Slava enters the main current, his paddle suddenly gives out. Good thing we have some spares on the cataraft!
The river gradually grows tamer. There are more and more fast-current stretches without rapids. The clouds cover the distant mountains, giving the gorge a distant look. We land on a sandy beach. The water doesn't roar anymore, it quietly whispers by. It's a perfect camp site, except for the fresh ornament of cow pies every few feet. As the ever-present local kids watch, Oleg and I spend a few minutes shoveling the stuff away with our paddles.
We change places - Alka gets into the kayak, I climb into the cataraft with Lev. We can relax now, there's time to look around and enjoy the scenery.
The river is different today. Instead of the Himalayan savage, wild and dangerous, it's a quiet Indian beauty. Instead of the canyon walls, we are surrounded by soft rolling hills. We watch eagles and herons fly by. The evergreens are replaced by the lush tropical vegetation. A toll poplar stands above the green carpet. A group of goats is playing on the shore. A small snake in the water wiggles its way upstream. As we pass by a beach, a few boys jump into the water. They hop on the back of the cataraft tubes for a ride.
A couple of fishermen are wading knee-dip in the water - one of them with a backpack is sticking two rods into the water, while another one is downstream with a net. Slava notices that the rods are connected to a car battery in the backpack. Perhaps the fish's natural urge to enter the net isn't strong enough, and electricity provides the gentle motivation.
The river starts separating into sleeves. There islands between them are covered by sand and rocks. We hear a loud banging, then see its cause - workers are piling stones on a metal trailer attached to a small tractor. Probably some local genie needs material for a new palace.
And finally, there's the bridge that marks the end of the trip. And there's our van, waiting to take us to Pokhara. It takes us a couple of hours to disassemble the catarafts and load everything. A few more hours drive, and we are back in the Moondance restaurant, making plans and devouring chicken in yogurt. Alka has to go home, and Lev's sunburn is pretty bad. We decide that tomorrow Slava, Boris, and I will run the Seti-Khola, while everybody else rests. Seti-Khola is a three-hour run, only forty-five minutes away by taxi. We should be back in time to say goodbye to Alka.
After all matters are decided, Lev and I take a walk down the night-time Pokhara. The place is buzzing with tourists. The electricity turns on and off, but nobody seems to mind. We stop by at a small drugstore, and refresh our medical supplies in candlelight. Lev shakes sand out of "sterile" bandages. Then we stop by in an Internet café - an Israeli girl speaks to me in Hebrew, and Lev has to come to my rescue with translation. The heat of the day is gone, the night is fresh, and the music is in the air.
There's one more thing to do: Stop by Charlie's shop and show him the cracked kayak. Charlie is dismayed, he says he's never seen damage like this. In the meanwhile, I slip into the backyard and start picking up a replacement boat. After a while, I decide on a Grind prototype - a strange looking boat that looks sturdy enough yet still maneuverable.
Getting to the river is easy: The very first taxi driver agrees to take us there, park his car near the dam and wait for us to finish the run. We get the ropes, tie the boats are on the roof of the taxi, and before long we are in the village of Hyangja. When the road becomes too bumpy for the car we let the driver go, shoulder the boats and walk the last kilometer.
The Upper Seti is small, with a lot of gradient. We pick our way through the boulders, get into the water, and start playing our way down the fun Class 3-4 water. The canyon walls hide the white peaks of the Annapurna, but the river is busy enough to take our mind off the scenery. According to the guidebook, there's a single Class 5 rapid waiting for us in the middle of the run.
Soon we see it. The jumble of boulders on the right chokes the river to a third of its normal width. On the left there are four drops, with powerful holes on the bottom. And alongside of all this - the vertical wall of the left shore, undercut for the whole length of the rapid. As I walk along the river, I see streams of water going under the rock. The hole after the third drop goes across almost the whole width of the river and connects with the wall on the left. Creepy...
I can see the lines that could take me through... or not. Every single one of the lines comes close to the hole. And the hole comes close to the undercut. It may be runnable, but when I start playing the "what if" scenarios, my stomach starts acting up. A rescue would mean repelling down from the cliff face on the left bank. Whoever happens to get stuck in the undercut, will have to hold his breath for an hour or so. Maybe next time... We portage the rapid.
The run is by no means over. The rapids are as contiguous as ever. We spend a few minutes playing in a fun surfing hole. Soon, we see the dam. Our taxi driver is waiting, surrounded by ever-present kids.
Back in Pokhara, Alka still haven't left. We gather in the Moondance restaurant for the goodbye meal. We seat on the balcony, watching a snake charmer set up shop on the pavement below. Soon, a crowd of tourists gather to watch his two cobras. In the meanwhile, two cows on the street are resolving some kind of dispute. The new spectacle slowly draws the attention of the crowd from the snakes. Finally, a policeman comes brandishing a tree branch. One of the cows is found guilty, so the public official takes her away. The other one joins the crowd watching the snakes...
After saying goodbye to Alka we go back to the Paradise hotel to pack for our next trip. Somewhere out there the mighty Marsyandi river is waiting. The packing stretches far into the night - We have way too much food.
Part 1