The Zanskar Kayak Expedition, 2004

The following article was published in magazine, October 2004.

by Colin Irvine

In the beginning…
It was last winter when I first heard rumours of a river high in the Indian Himalayas - rarely paddled, a gruelling physical and mental challenge and one of the most spectacular whitewater trips on the planet.

The river is 300km long, the whitewater ranges from class 3-6 and the start point is at 14,500 feet altitude. Most of the river is several days from the nearest road and the majority of its course runs through deep gorges. The river is the Tsarap-Zanskar and an idea was born - I would assemble an Irish team and tackle the challenge the following August.

Kipper Maguire was the first to come on board. With Brian Keogh, James Mc Manus, Ross Redmond and Irish-American Brian Magee soon recruited to the mission, we now had a team with both the talent and experience needed to attempt the descent. We went our separate ways in the spring to go kayaking in destinations from the Rockies to the Alps and when we returned to Ireland in mid July, we were in the best possible shape for our Indian adventure.

Meanwhile, news had spread of our plans and interest was growing. The Evening Herald, The Irish Times and Outsider magazine all ran full-page spreads on the trip, our media officer (Kipper) was never off the phone and we were all feeling like proper celebrities! Brian Magee arrived into Ireland, (just in time for a TV3 appearance) and we finalised our preparations.
And then we were off - this is our story
:
The Trip

Day 1
Delhi was mental. The monsoon heat hit us like a brick wall and we began a 2-day perspiration marathon. Arriving in the early hours of the morning, we lost a night’s sleep trying to find a hotel - a challenge that Jam met with enthusiasm and a lot of sweat. An afternoon monsoon downpour had the sewers overflowing into the crowded streets as taxis, buses, trucks, motorbikes, mopeds, rickshaws, bicycles, pedestrians, horses and seemingly invincible Hindu cows all battled for supremacy. The verdict was unanimous – we had to leave the city… fast.


Day 2
Indian customs however had other ideas, looking for an import duty of over 1000 euro on our kayaks. After 15 separate stages in the chain of bureaucracy the boats were finally released and we began the sweaty task of loading our jeep. With 6 boats and 6 sets of gear, the roof was loaded a little high, but sure it would be grand...
Not so, said the Delhi police as our vehicle got turned back at the first checkpoint. It appeared either a change of vehicle or a sizeable bribe was required. We opted for the former and eventually made our way North, bumping and bouncing our way for 15 hours, and another night without sleep.

Day 3
As daylight dawned, we found ourselves in the Himachal Pradesh region, the Himalayan front range. Our elevation (2,000m) made the air a little cooler and we scouted the Beas river with bleary eyes on our way to Manali.

Day 4
Keen to dust out the cobwebs from the long journey, we decided to run the section of the Beas we had seen from the road. As it turned out, our sleep-deprived scouting the previous morning had been a bit lax and we found ourselves screaming down a hectic section of class 4+/5 water in near flood conditions. Everyone handled themselves well though, and a buzz crept into the team. After all the planning, we were finally here – kayaking in the Himalayas… happy days!

Day 5
Well, if the first day’s boating had been high water, then this was super high water. Overnight monsoon rain had swelled a river that was now running thick and brown. Our training plans looked to be in jeopardy but not to worry – we would paddle an easy section with our boats almost fully loaded. Once again, the river proved much more difficult than it looked from the road. Big volume and very fast water meant we really had to work hard to keep our heavy boats on line.

Day 6
Well, we didn’t think the rivers could have risen much more, but again we were proved wrong. The Beas was now a raging torrent - thick, brown and full of dead things. We decided not to paddle. In any case, we needed to organise a way out of Manali and into the region of Ladakh. It is a journey notorious for altitude sickness, landslides, dangerous roads and ravines littered with vehicles whose drivers lost control of the wheel. But with a strong jeep and a reliable driver, the voyage should be no problem…

Wrong once more! Word was filtering back of a mudslide that had destroyed not just one section of road, but an entire series of switchbacks. To get through we would have to carry our equipment on foot, and pick up another vehicle on the far side. Himalayan Journeys in Manali proved our lifeline through this difficult period of logistics and we made plans to depart early the next morning.

Day 7
Another horrendous day of travel. After a couple of hours crammed into a jeep, we reached the landslide. Absolute mayhem greeted us with lines of trucks waiting to get through and throngs of Tibetan porters offering to carry our gear up the muddy slopes. With swirls of mist and cloud filling the valley below, there was a tremendous sense that we were hiking into another level of the Himalayas. Far above us, the Tibetan plateau and the start of our river beckoned - the expedition had truly begun!

We eventually got past the landslide and located our new driver. After several hours of hairpin bends we crossed the Rotang Lah pass (3978m) and continued on to the village of Keylong. As we drove, the colours changed from lush greens to arid reds and browns. Sharp mountain peaks rose in all directions, the tips of glaciers just visible at the brinks of the valleys.

Day 8
I awoke feeling nauseous and running a temperature - not a good sign with another 1,500m altitude to gain and a hopeful start on the river that afternoon. We continued on however, over the Baralacha La pass (4,845m) and on to the tented settlement of Sarchu, watching each other closely for signs of altitude sickness. As we descended from the pass, bouncing from side to side on the rough road, we caught the first glimpse of our river. The Tsarap Chu was high, but not flooded. We would start our descent that afternoon.

We unloaded our jeep and pulled on our gear – simple tasks that left us breathless at this high altitude. One last equipment check and we waved our driver off. He would continue by road to Leh, a destination we hoped to see 7 or 8 days later. Only 300km of remote whitewater lay in our way! As the jeep disappeared in the distance Kipper voiced what we were all thinking – “No turning back now boys...”

After a couple of hours of easy paddling we stopped to camp. My nausea had passed, but I now had a ferocious, altitude-induced headache. Cooking was difficult at this height, but we forced down some food. As night fell, a lone traveller with a white horse approached, attracted by our campfire. We shared some food with him and he offered us his blessing before going on his way. The air was cold, the skies were clear and as I settled down to sleep I had the great sense that this was going to be a river trip like no other.

Day 9
The altitude was still affecting us - I felt out of breath just eating my porridge! The river quickly narrowed down to tight gorges - undercut and dangerous in places but relatively straightforward to paddle. Around mid-day we reached our first portage. The fully loaded boats were extremely difficult to lift and we resorted to a combination of carrying and hauling on ropes. A cold rain began to fall and we continued with dampened spirits till the early evening. The rice and hard vegetables tasted a little better after 7 hard hours on the river and we camped under a night sky awash with stars.

Day 10
The difficulty of whitewater slackened on our 3rd day but the light was a photographer’s dream. Magee raced through slide film as every bend in the river revealed another spectacular peak or gorge wall. We were travelling through a mountain desert – a harsh but beautiful landscape. In the early afternoon some Buddhist prayer flags were spotted flying from a cliff-top. Suddenly the ancient Tibetan monastery of Phugtal came into view. Built into the base of a cave, high on the gorge wall, the Gompa is an incredible sight.

As we approached, scores of young monks in red robes came sprinting down the steep slopes to greet us. The excitement when we pulled into shore was electric – the boys were full of enthusiasm, eager to meet these strange travellers in plastic boats. Pandemonium ensued as they tried out helmets and buoyancy aids, blew whistles, threw rescue ropes and bombarded us with questions. Eventually one of the older monks approached and invited us to stay the night. We couldn’t refuse.

We explored the Gompa and shared tea and food with the monks. Ross did some filming and Brian Keogh went missing for a long period. We became convinced that he was being sworn in as a monk himself, but he reappeared to reveal that he had merely been teaching English! We spent the night in the schoolhouse and awoke to the sound of a gong summoning the monks to prayer… at 5am!

Day 11
It is estimated that Buddhist monks have lived at Phugtal for up to 2000 years, attracted to the site by the large cave and its natural spring water. The Gompa is several days walk from the nearest settlement, a journey made slightly easier in the winter when the river freezes over and it becomes possible to walk up the ice. After a leisurely breakfast of chapati and ghee (yak butter) we presented some gifts to the school – some pens, tennis balls and an Irish flag.

More mayhem as we geared up at the beach, before we said our goodbyes. As we pulled off we could just make out a group high on the walls of the monastery. They were flying the Irish flag high and proud, wishing us safe passage through the gorge… and there’s not one person among us who can say they paddled out of that eddy without a lump in their throat.

Our minds turned back to the river - the gradient was increasing and we gained more water from side-creeks. We soon reached Reru falls - a long and violent piece of whitewater. Deciding to portage, we immediately began hauling our heavy kayaks up the steep scree slope, to the trail above. After much sweat and torment, we finally got all 6 boats up, only to find that a recent landslide rendered the trail useless - a sobering lesson in the dangers of assumption. We would have to lower all the boats back down the cliff and begin the long and awkward carry over the sharp boulders at river level. A glance at the watch revealed that it was in fact Friday the 13th.

The entire portage episode took 4 hours, and when we finally got back in our boats we barely had the strength to lift our paddles. The combination of hard work, inadequate sleep, high altitude and poor food put our energy reserves at a dangerously low level. In addition, Kipper was suffering from a stomach upset (the infamous Delhi Belly). We had to find a campsite soon.

With the steep gorge walls offering no obvious flat areas, we continued for several miles in the fading light until we eventually found a small beach, just big enough for our tents. That night the sky was alive with shooting stars, blazing their paths high above the dark silhouette of the canyon walls – an apt background for reflection on what had been an incredible day.

Day 12
The river continued to pack a serious punch for several miles with some powerful rapids. This was what we had come for – continuous quality whitewater. Unfortunately, Jam was now suffering from a back injury and Kipper’s illness was worsening, aggravated by dehydration. Even the side creeks were laden with silt at this stage and finding clear drinking water was becoming increasingly difficult.

After several hours the gorge opened out, signalling the end of the Tsarap river and we arrived at the town of Padum. We restocked with food and fresh water, before crossing the flat braided plains where the Tsarap merges with the Doda to become the Zanskar. The snow-capped peaks that had been hidden from us in the Tsarap gorge were now in full view. A small island provided us with a campsite for the night and the dark entrance to the Zanskar gorge beckoned just a few miles downstream. We had travelled 150km in 5 days – just half our total distance.

Day 13
We made an early start and after several hours of easy water we reached the steep cliffs of the great Zanskar gorge. Nick-named “The Grand Canyon of Asia”, this is one of the most spectacular river canyons on the planet. I now joined Kipper in the sick-boy ranks and found myself racing to the side at regular intervals! Campsites were scarce but we eventually found a spot. With some instant noodles and a deck of cards the riverbank was becoming like a second home.

Day 14
There was now a huge volume of water in the river and we experienced several narrows with boils and whirlpools. This was an unforgiving place where a swim could be severe, as Keoghser discovered when a rogue boil swept him into an undercut. Several attempts at rolling were thwarted, as the current forced him further under the cliff face. He resorted to swimming and just managed to kick off the wall and come to the surface, gasping for air, cut and bruised from the sharp underwater rocks. It was a grim lesson for us all. While this part of the river wasn’t hugely difficult, it could never be underestimated. We regrouped and continued down rapids that were big and powerful but fairly straightforward.

In the early afternoon the gorge opened out, much sooner than we had anticipated. We had covered the final 150 km in just 2 days and there was a great sense of achievement when the Indus confluence finally came into view. After 7 days of endless challenges, one of the most incredible river trips of our lives was finally over.

The Aftermath
The exploits of Team Z didn’t finish at the end of the Zanskar Gorge. Three of us scaled Stok-Kangri mountain at 6,127m altitude. We ran a world class creek near Manali. We threw ourselves down the Beas again in huge flood. Brian Magee chased pythons and Boa Constrictors and Brian Keogh got a haircut. We made countless new friends and experienced amazing new cultures. Jam even attempted to blow up a piece of highway… but to hear these stories you’ll just have to wait for the release of the film..

What really stands out is a visit to a school for blind children in Kullu. In a country as vast as India, these kids are often forgotten. They face challenges on a daily basis that make our exploits on the river seem simple. We spent the afternoon there, discussing ways that we could help these kids achieve some degree of normal living, in a society that offers them so little. And that’s why we need your help. We need to sell as many films as possible to turn our amazing experience into their amazing opportunity.

The adventure continues!

The Zanskar Kayak Expedition was sponsored by:

Rough Stuff, Berghaus, Cascade Designs (Seal-line, MSR, Thermarest), Vango, Cebe, Columbia, Outdoor Adventure Store, Great Outdoors, North Face, Pyranha, Nookie, Dagger, Palm, Tropical Medical Bureau, President’s Award, DHL.

All proceeds from the events and DVD sales will be divided equally between the Kullu School for the Blind and the Irish Cancer Society.



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