Rio Colca: IV

November 16, 2008 (ish)

After an epic hike to the bottom of one of the world's most dramatic canyons, we set up camp on the beach in the small village of Canco, Peru. The famous Colca River was a calm trickle of algae as we got excited to run another world classic. We were all humbled and awed by sitting at the bottom of a canyon over twice as deep as any in North America.

The thought of venturing downstream should have had all rather nervous as well, but we knew the Colca gets run commercially, had some beta on portages, and heard the whitewater was rather easy, at least compared to the Mapacho and Apurimac we had run back in October. We were just in for a good time in a mind-blowing, remote canyon. Hiking out here is not an option.

In the morning we made it about 12 minutes downstream before finding vistas that warranted a photo stop. Another ten minutes downstream, we had to stop once again. This would be the pace for the next three days. The canyon had our mouths hanging wide open, but the water flow had us rather nervous. We almost had to get out of our boats twice in the first half hour to get through shallow sections.

To our relief, a tributary joined us on the right, more than doubling our flow. The water coming in was crystal clear, and almost glowed bright blue. Even coming from the Northwest, this was the most breathtakingly beautiful water I've ever seen. For the rest of our trip the river would be clear and cold, making us Oregonians feel right at home.

Shortly after lunch, the action started. A small creek joined us from the right, a massive wall rose over a thousand feet high above the left bank, and the river dropped out of sight. We scouted and found a very manageable class IV rapid.

We all came through with out trouble and I brought up the rear. But in the pool below, whistles were blaring. Everyone was waving me over to the river-right eddy, away from the wall.

Behind me, and right where I'd been, small rocks were tumbling off the cliff 1000 feet overhead into the river. After Zak completed the rapid, a chunk the size of a softball landed right next to his boat. Luckily, the big one missed him. But a smaller rock, perhaps golf-ball sized, struck him square in the shoulder. We were trapped in the bottom of a massive gorge with no way out but downstream. So we pulled over and geared down.

Zak was about as fine as one could be after being hit by a rock at terminal velocity. No broken bones, no blood, no damaged gear. So we took the opportunity to sit on a beach for a while. The whole time, small rocks kept plunging into the river at the base of the cliff across from us. Now and then one would even reach the shore we sat on.

Eventually we were ready to continue downstream. The steady rockslide still hadn't ceased, so it was a rush for each of us to get to the water, hop in our boats, and get the hell out of there before getting hit my more falling debris. We made it out safely, but rockfalls were first on all of our minds.

We were just entering what we knew to be the first gorge of class IV rapids and unknown length. When we think of rock dodging in kayaks, the rocks usually aren't moving. So a whole new element was added. Furthermore, it was getting late. We started looking for campsites within the gorge.

We found one nice looking bench with lots of flat spots. It was also on the opposite side of the river from the rockfalls. Oddly, the "flat" space was ground I've never seen before or since. There was a thick layer of fine dust resembling snow. When we tried to walk through it, we sank up to our knees. There was just enough consolidated dirt for us to sleep on and we didn't see any rockfall debris, so we discussed camping there for the night.

Just then we heard a rumble on the canyon wall above us. We watched in amazement as a boulder the size of beachball came trundling downhill, right across our proposed campsite and vanished into the dust field. Gone. Along with god only knows how much other fallout. We kept going.

After a few more great class IV rapids, we happened upon a great spot. It was tight, but protected on both sides from wind and and overhanging wall kept us safe from falling rocks. We finally calmed down a little and settled into where we were. For the rest of the trip, we didn't have any problems.

The next morning we quickly paddled out of the first gorge through a few more rapids. The whitewater was more challenging that I had been led to believe. We all welcomed the challenge and bounced down through countless great rapids with many fun moves.

As the morning wore on, we began scouting more and more, in anticipation for the upcoming portages. Yet every scout revealed more clean drops. This run was shaping up to be a true classic.

As though the canyon wasn't breathtaking all the way down, we rounded one corner and were truly blown away. On river left, a small creek was cresting the horizon more than a thousand feet above our heads.

The water fell in a series of cascades down into the river. The wind near the lip of the waterfall was whipping the ribbon of water back and forth so some drops wouldn't even reach the bottom. High above, three andean condors soared on 11-foot wingspans. We decided it was an appropriate time for lunch and ate in a huge protected cavern across from the cascade.

Downstream, we all took turns scouting each horizon line for the portages and each time the scout would give clear beta to the rest on yet another great drop. The whitewater was continually exceeding our expectations.

As the canyon opened up a bit, we saw a rusty old cable crossing and something we really didn't expect: people. The two Peruvians maybe expected us even less, but were still friendly. They were at the bottom of the canyon for a couple days fishing for camarones: crayfish. In another day a mule team would come down to haul their catch up to the market to sell. But in the mean time, the gentlemen were more than happy to sell us whatever we wanted. And with that, we had fresh meat for the night.

Eventually we entered another narrow canyon and got out to scout a chunky boulder pile. This was clearly the first portage. And a cool portage it was. With teamwork, we passed all the boats up over enormous boulders towards the bottom of the rapid. Adjacent to the last drop, we lowered our boats into a cavernous space with a pool at the bottom. There, we got back in our boats underneath all the rocks and paddled out through a tiny porthole. Portage complete.

Shortly thereafter, we found camp for the night and got to cooking another delicious meal over the fire.

The next morning we only ran one rapid before arriving at the next portage. This one was a bit more technical, requiring us to walk the first part on the left before getting cliffed out. We then ferried across in a decent pool before walking the second drop on the right. The second part was runnable, but more water would have made it much more attractive.

The second portage marked the heart of Polish Canyon, the last gorge of the Colca named after the original explorers. We paddled out and in true Peruvian expedition fashion, had no shuttle set. We continued downriver to where the road parallels the river and carried our boats up. Just down the street, a small store had beer for sale.

So we drank on the side of the road waiting for a ride. An hour and a half later, a local collectivo came by. We tied our boats up on the roof, piled into the small van with the other 13 people inside, and moved on to our next river.

The Futaleufu: Class L (for lifechanging)

There's plenty of information out there for the Futaleufu River in southern Chile. It's a world-class destination and was our last stop in a four-month tour of South American whitewater. Sadly, there are rather definite plans to dam the Futa, turning the beautiful valley into a stagnant lake. Sound familiar? I won't go into it too much or repeat information you could find all over the web. This time, I'll let the photos do the talking. I took a few of these photos, but all others are copyright of Darren at sunchasersphotography.com. Please ask me before you use any of these images.

Rio Suarez: IV+

Well the stars just aligned. After parting with Allen and traveling up into Colombia, I met up with Kees in San Gil. I hadn't seen him since Cusco in November, but our paths connected just before he left the country. As of St. Patrick's Day, Kees had paddled an hour and a half in all of 2009. I wasn't much better with not having been in a boat in seven weeks. But San Gil happens to be a popular rafting zone, Kees happened to know the best outfitter very well, and they happened to have all the gear I needed.

Gettin´ things ready

So they set me up with a Riot Magnum 80 and a tolerable gear kit as well as a ride to the river with an afternoon commercial trip. God, I love the boating community.

Not looking half bad for borrowed gear...

The Suarez is a great class IV+/V- half-day trip not too far out of town. We had a good level for some big water jungle boating. But I still felt rather intimidated, reflecting on the last time I decided to get off the proverbial couch directly into low class V. That humbling experience was about to be repeated.

Peeling out of the eddy, I immediately felt weak. It was a struggle to keep my angle and just to ferry across the next eddy. I almost flipped in the first wavetrain, and that wasn't even considerd one of the rapids.

The first wavetrain. This photo doesn`t do justice to the epic surf wave on river left at the top.

Through the first two rapids, I had a chance to loosen up a bit. I found balance in the new boat, but still was far from confident. I was paddling like I was scared. Perhaps because I was a little scared. I hadn't found a pool yet for practice rolls and wasn't sure how the big boat would react. The third rapid we ran was close to a kilometer long. So far there hadn't been many moves to make, but the hydraulics were plenty powerful and unpredictable. And I was out of breath by the end of the rapids. Then we got to the hard stuff.
Kees doing his thing

The next two rapids were bigger. They had holes to avoid. And rocks. The first one you enter on the right. Or was in the left? The second one has an enormous hole blocking half of the river at the bottom. With that beta in my head, we peeled out, Kees leading the way. Ready to follow Kees over the horizon

We ferried across the river above a nasty boulder jumble, and the fun began. I saw Kees moving right above a set of holes. I tried to follow, but was relocated by a big lateral at just the wrong time. So I made a dicey airplane move splitting the two holes. I kept trying to move right, but it wasn`t enough. A surging lateral picked me up and dropped me right into one of the stickiest holes on the run, where the fun promptly ended.

I think this is what Kees was doing at the time

I held the side-surf upright for about three seconds before going under. Try as I might I couldn`t grab water with my paddle to pull me out the bottom of the hole, so this turned into any other violent hydraulic beatdown. I was backwards, sideways, upright, forwards, cartwheeling, looping, rolling, and starting to freak out. The only thing I wasn`t doing was breathing. After a 20 second battle, I finally cartwheeled my way out the back of the hole to calmer waters and gradually rolled up. The rapid began to let up and I eddied out with Kase, who told me we were close to the big one.

Kees makes everything look easy

After catching my breath, we headed downriver, making some fun moves through a boulder jumble on river left. Then made a big move through strong waves back right of the first big hole.
The raft about to punch a big one

From there we had an easy time working along the bank to the pool below, and it was time to have lunch.
Our nice little lunch beach in the jungle

After lunch we had some easy water grading up to more class IV wavetrains. One long one led us under the only bridge of the run, then turned a corner into a minefield of holes. I made it through alright, but the raft lost half of its passengers. One girl had a rather long swim but was holding the safety kayak for most of it.

Kees explodes off one of the bigger waves just above the bridge

We came to the last rapid and I got beta on the entrance move to split a couple big moves. I wasn`t agressive enough and rolled in the middle of the crux. I came back up with a lucky position and avoided everything. Then we barreled through 200 yards of monstrous waves. But it all went. Everyone cleared the finale with big grins and we made our way to the private take-out just downstream.

The last rapid, check out that high water line...


If you´re interested in rafting in Colombia, go with Colombia Rafting. They`re by far the safest and most professional outfitter around and the Río Suarez is well worth stopping for.
Eight happy people when all was said and done

Upper Palguin: IV

Mike approaches the end of drop 1

The upper section of the Palguin River near Pucon is one of the best backyard runs imaginable. And it truly is in the backyard of Ben May, owner of Kayak Chile on the main drag in Pucon. We spent a couple days camping out at his place, working on the trail, and running laps on this waterfall playground.

I only ever ran the first half of the run, which is reported to be the best part. It can be easily run in 15 minutes and includes three great drops that are clean and fairly easy.
Putting in below the natural bridge

The run starts with a 12-foot seal launch into a pool, which flushes immediately into the first rapid, a confused double-drop. After a short lead-in, the river drops four feet through a slot into a boily little room. Then the rapid ends with an 8-foot drop into a clean, calm pool below.

Zak on the lead-in to the first drop

And stomping his way into the pool below;



My first time down I backendered in the slot, rolled up in the room, and had just enough time to catch a breath before flipping again off the wall as I drifted backwards over the lip of the 8-footer. Not a stylish line at all. Luckily, the channel is deep, the drop forgiving. Plenty of people have run this one upside-down with very little consequence.

As you continue downstream, the drops get taller and easier. The pool below the first drop drains into a short rapid leading to the lip of the second drop, a 15-footer. This one isn´t really scoutable, but you can eddy out within view of the horizon line to plan your approach. Go right boofing right. The left side has a retentive pocket that swims many people, but the right side has a boof flake that gives some great air-time.


Allen catching air on the second drop


That`s me!


Zak with a perfect flat landing

After another 50 yards of calm water comes the third drop, a 20-footer with two options. The right channel is easier to boof, but has a slightly off-angle approach. The left channel has a rolling lip and can easily be plugged, but also gives great practice for late boofs. Both are very non-consequential, class III drops.

Me not exactly boofing the right side

Orion running it blind

The next horizon line is the crack drop, with a very narrow slide that people run, trying not to catch paddles on rocks. We always took out on the right at the lip of this one, and hiked back up along the good trail for another lap.

A New Years Reflection

I don´t know who created the calendar we used, or why they chose to break things up the way they did. Not that I care, but placing the turnover to a new year where it is seems a little odd. Why isn´t it scheduled with a solstice or equinox somewhere along the line? Or perhaps the day Pangea finally split apart? That was certainly the dawning of a new era, eh? We could celebrate that annually with parades, fireworks, and belligerence. But most importantly, why is the new year scheduled so inconveniently that I have to take the time right now to do this? Reflect.

Ok, so what to reflect on. Well, guess. What am I completely obsessed with such that it consumes most of my time, money, creativity, and all my time to think freely? Boating, of course. As I hang out down here in Chile and the new year encroaches, I´ve taken a chance to look back at the year I´ve had. 2008 was by far my best season of whitewater yet. In fact, it´s quite possible that I´ll never again live up to the season I´ve had. At least statistically speaking.

The following post is really more for myself than anyone else. But if you´re interested in my quick little recap of a great season, join on in.

Saddle Creek, Grand Canyon

The year started out for me waking up somewhere around mile 238 in the Grand Canyon. We made mamosas. Not because we were hungover, just alcoholics. But the important thing was being down there for three and a half weeks with 15 other great people.

It really is a very grand canyon

After the trip, I returned to Corvallis for the winter. Boating there didn´t happen for me, but I made plenty of trips south to Ashland or north to Portland to visit friends and explore the local rain-fed runs. By the time the term ended at OSU, I was done. I left Corvallis with my car and savings from the winter, with my eyes on very little beyond new rivers.

Ready for some All-Tracking

Oregon Hole Gorge, MF Smith

Overnighting the lower McCloud

I spent much of my time in Northern California, but also paddled about some in Oregon and Washington, with trips on the Illinois, Rogue, Canyon Creek, Mollala and White Salmon.

Peter Gandesberry, NF Cal-Salmon

Big Kahuna on Canyon Creek, WA

Ryan Morgan, NF Molalla hike-in

Oregon Rafting Team in the Cal-Salmon Race

Darin on one of many, many Box Canyon laps

My favorite move on my favorite run: Upper Clear Creek

Green Wall Rapid, Illinois River

Green Wall Rapid, Illinois River

As May ground onward, I found myself enjoying hot, sunny days from the Cal-Salmon to Pauley Creek.

Darin McQuoid, Kidder Creek

Disneyland rapid, SF Cal-Salmon

But after an unfortunate swim in Federal Falls at flood, I decided to take a little break from boating. Afterall, it was only a couple weeks before the commercial season started for me in Idaho. And it started with a bang.

I was a little thrown off by the colder weather and water when I put in on Marsh Creek in late May without pogies. But a couple days later, I was no longer risking frostbite and was happy to be kayaking on the Middle Fork at 6 feet with the OARS training trip. Over the course of those 13 days, I strung together the entire Salmon sequence, from Marsh Creek above 6,000 feet to Heller Bar on the Snake below 1,000. Altogether, the trip was over 300 miles long. As the Salmon was where I got my start with whitewater, it has always been a dream of mine to run do all three popular wilderness runs as one trip. As an extra bonus, I got to see Devil´s Slide at 40,000 cfs and have a first-hand account of the rapid that keeps people off the river at half that flow!

Dropping into the Slide at high water

It was a busy work season for me with leading several trips and spending a little too much time on the Lower Salmon instead of the Main and Middle Fork. Luckily, I was able to maintain sanity on days off with trips on the South Fork Salmon, Lochsa, and Kootenai rivers.


At the beginning of Summer, very few of us had concrete plans for the fall. Throughout the season, we would discuss options over cocktails at the guide house and ultimately, Mike, Zak and I agreed on Peru after our work was done. So just before I launched on another Grand Canyon trip, we bought tickets.

Mike and I ran a couple laps on the Green Truss on our way to LAX to meet with Zak and fly out. Getting our boats on the plane was a bit of a struggle, but everything worked out in the end and by October 7th, we were happily moved into a hostal in Cusco looking for the next river. Over the course of the next two months, we found our way down ten different runs including five overnighters. We topped off our stint in Peru with the classic Colca-Cotahuasi circuit and made tracks for Chile.

Toothache rapid, Apurimac River

Beers under banana trees at the takeout


Black Canyon, Apurimac River



Peruvian children loved our boats



Locked in to the Lucumayo



Portaging through Ollantaytambo



Figuring out the Mapacho



One of countless good rapids on the best river anywhere: the Mapacho

Mike and Zak had been in Chile four years ago, so they had a good idea of where to go. The day after arriving in town, I met up with some locals for a morning run on the local classic, the upper Palguin. It´s a short-and-sweet run with three clean drops, and I ran my first 20-footer that day. It was the perfect place to get used to running waterfalls, which have been the focus of most of our travels around Pucon. After a couple weeks hanging out in town with more runs on the Palguin, we took off for our Christmas road trip.

Falling on the Fuy



Allen on the Llancahue


Zak, Upper Palguin, Drop 2
Blue Angels on the Fuy


Zak finishing off the best rapid I´ve ever run. Río Gol Gol

Christmas day was my last day on the water for the season, with a great warm day on the Fuy. In the week leading up to it, we also ran the Llancahue, Gol-Gol, and the Negro. I ran the first rapid on the Lizan, but don´t quite count that as a full day of boating. So here´s the count:

Total days on the water: 174
Unique runs: 52
Personal first descents: 36
Gear lost/broken: 1 paddle, 1 helmet, 1 mosquito net, 1 cotton sock, some foam blocks, a door on Tupper´s Subaru.
Degrees of lattitude covered: 93
Runs missed out on that I´ll get next time: MF Feather, Clear Creek Headwaters, Bridge Creek, Wooley Creek, NF Feather, SF Yuba

At any rate, it´s been a hell of a year. I´ve had the time of my life in such beautiful places with wonderful people. Thank you to everyone who has joined me on the water this year or otherwise encouraged my little escapades. I love you all and wish you the best for 2009.
Thanks for reading!

I just love this picture too much to not post it again!

Río Gol Gol: V

The Gol Gol is yet another classic Chilean waterfall playground. Zak and Mike had been down before at higher water and we´d all heard plenty of good reviews on the river, so we made it a priority on our Christmas road trip. The Gol Gol is a step up from the nearby Fuy and while a class IV boater can easily run the river with a few portages, confident huckers can go as big as they want. There aren´t many boaters out there that wouldn´t be nervous and thrilled about dropping 50-foot Salto del Indio at the takeout.

We put in on a tributary of the legendary Gol Gol, parking at the border check on the Chilean side (although the actual border is way up the road). The scrapy float into the main river was oddly reminiscent of running Nordheimer Creek into the Cal-Salmon. After 20 minutes of flatwater and some class III rapids, we eddied out to scout the first drop.

Salto de los Novios (Boyfriend Falls?) was visible from the road on the way up and drops about 20 feet with the lead-in. The right channel had a really fun-looking line with a unique move, but it was out of the question due to a rock in the landing zone. We all chose the shallower left channel with mixed results. Both days that we ran it, Zak launched incredible super-boofs, landing stern first and keeping his head dry.

Mike running the far left line

There is plenty of recovery time to roll up after the falls, but a swim here would be painful due to the chunky rapid just downstream. From here, we paddled about a mile of class III/IV pool-drop rapids where nothing really stood out. That is, until we came to the second drop.

Brian on the entrance ledge

The second big one on the Gol Gol is probably my favorite rapid anywhere. The river spreads out over an 8-foot ledge with a variety of lines to choose from. The river feeds into 50-yards of class III boulder garden, then accelerates over a fast, clean 20-footer.

Zak finishing off the second drop

Both times I ran this one I flipped upon landing the bottom drop, but still came away intact and elated from a blissful rapid. Mike seemed to have the best line the first day, with a perfect entry angle to shoot away from the falls.

Immediately below the second drop is a class III rapid with a couple of fun boof moves. The next drop is a chunky 25-foot double drop we all portaged right away via a good trail on the right. From there it was easy boogey water to the fourth drop.

The fourth drop had me a bit nervous, as it had a retentive hole that swam two people last time Mike and Zak had been down here. We caught small eddies half-way through the lead-in and hopped out to scout on the left. Zak then led the way with a big, loud boof giving Mike and me confidence to follow with the same. It turned out to be a fairly easy drop so long as we were in the right spot, and the landing was a bit hard.

Zak cleans the fourth drop with a strong boof

In the pool below drop 4, we saw the Rio Colorado flow in from river left. Passing it, I couldn´t help but wonder how much time I could have saved the day before by following that river downstream. We soon were at the lip of another horizon line and were out of our boats again to scout 30-foot Salto Repercura on the right.

Scouting Repercura from the viewing platform

The morning before, we had hiked from camp to the viewing platform across from Repercura on river left. From there we could clearly see the line, but could also clearly see the nasty undercut/cave wall on river right. This hazard is invisible from the scout on river right, and I would highly recommend scouting from both sides before running the drop. We all ended up portaging that day on the left, where there is a marginal trail at the base of a cliff face.

The left channel of Repercura

After a 20-minute portage around the waterfall, the river offers nothing more than class II and flatwater. Oh, and a 50-foot waterfall: Del Indio. As big drops go, this one looks reasonably doable with a huge cushion, deep pool, and plenty of room to roll up below or swim your boat to shore if you blow a skirt or break a paddle.

On my third trip down the Gol-Gol, Allen got pumped up and fired up his biggest drop ever!




Halfway down, he disappeared behind the folding curtains and went super deep. The impact blew out an earplug, both elbow pads, and the corner of his skirt. But he resurfaced after several seconds and rolled up strong. Then came Brian....





The two boys had pretty much the same line, but Brian was only down for a couple seconds before resurfacing upright and paddling away with a big smile. I was just happy to sit in the pool below with a great angle to watch my buddies stick their lines!

Note: Many people refer to the waterfall I´ve called Repercura as Salto La Princessa. Just below this drop, the river corridor splits into two channels, rejoining in the pool below Del Indio, which is in the right channel. The left channel is now dry (at least at low water), but looking at the riverbed, it´s obvious there was historically a 25-footer followed by some rapids. According to local information, this dry waterfall is Princessa. The point is, if you think my pictures look just like those others took of a drop called Princessa, that´s because they are. Get over it.

Río Fuy: IV+ with waterfalls

The third stop on our Christmas road trip was the Río Fuy, a river well-known for its collection of consecutive waterfalls. We found easy camping at the take-out for the upper run, but woke up to rain and cold weather. After the first few rapids, I took a deep swim out of a ledge hole and ultimately hiked out halfway through the waterfall section on well-developed trails courtesy of the Huilo-Huilo lodge up on the highway. Clearly, I had to return for a sense of completion. So on Christmas Day, we awoke at the same campsite to beautiful clear skies and the promise of a hot afternoon.

From the put-in in Puerto Fuy, the river flows out of a large lake and gradually builds up steam to a collection of class III and IV rapids. With our flows, everything was boat-scoutable and pool-drop.

Mike running the ledge I swam out of

Joe having himself a great Christmas

After a dozen good rapids, the Río Fuy pools up, then drops off the edge of the Earth. The waterfall section kicks off with a clean 30-footer, followed closely by four more smaller drops. This may be the best 500 meters of whitewater I´ve ever run.

Mike 30 feet in the air with some serious gradient yet to come

Drop 1 - Salto La Leona: 30ft

The water was dead-calm approaching the lip, giving us plenty of time to line up exactly where we wanted. From the right bank, we could easily scout the line, which started off with a 5-foot slide into a flake that launched us out into a soft landing. At our flow, the drop was very flushy and most of the water we were landing in went right into an eddy on river right. Between the two days, we all had a variety of lines. I demonstrated my inability to boof out straight, both times turning sideways in the air and landing on edge. Still, I didn´t flip either time, which I attribute entirely to my boat. For a drop of this height, I can´t imagine it getting any easier or more forgiving.

Me at the top of La Leona with the second drop in the foreground

Joe resurfacing after a perfect line off the big one

Drop 2: 8ft

The river was still partially aerated from the first drop as it flowed over an 8-10 foot ledge. The second drop has a sticky-looking hole in the middle, with sneak lines on either side. Both times, Joe, Mike, and I took the scrapier boof on the right side while Zak and Alan had good runs with the left line. The ledge is immediately followed by a class III rapid leading into the next set of drops.

Mike in the runnout of the second drop

Drop 3: 10ft?
The third drop is really a low-angle slide that picks up plenty of speed before crashing through two big holes. It´s easily scoutable, and much steeper than it looks. Fortunately, with the speed you get coming down the tongue, the two holes aren´t a big deal. Still, this slide intimidated me into hiking out on the first run, mostly because it leads directly into drop 4. Alan and Zak still fired it up with a little chaos, but good runs.

Blue angels dropping in

Things get a little wild.....

But they keep it alive to the lip of drop 4

Drop 4: 10ft
This one isn´t easily scoutable or portageable, which is a shame considering the hole at the base of it. The lip is a uniform horseshoe shape and forms a massive hydraulic that I want nothing to do with. The line is to drive off the left corner and boof into the eddy, which isn´t too hard if you´re in the right spot.

The waterfalls from below, with the sticky fourth drop in the foreground

Drop 5: 15ft
The last waterfall offers up a great finale. An easy lead-in with an obvious marker hole lets you get plenty of speed before soaring off a boof flake that´s impossible to miss into a clean, forgiving landing. What more can you ask for? Below the perfect 15-footer is about a kilometer of class II-III to the take-out.

Zak approaches the lip

Joe with another great run

On our Christmas run I was nervous, but excited for the third and fourth drops (which we all ran as one rapid without eddying out). But when I arrived in the eddy above the the slide, there was runaway gear downstream and I was the only one in my boat. I had to go. I took a moment to catch my breath and try to recall what everything looked like from the scout several days before. The gear kept going and I made chase, driving left down the slide. I bounced through the holes without incident and set my eyes on the weir downstream.

Me at the lip of the slide (drop 3)

I came up to the lip with plenty of speed, but my timing was off. I was forced to boof with the wrong blade, but everything still worked out and I paddled away hooting. I continued to chase the runaway boat through a hundred yards of boogey water when I suddenly found myself at another horizon line. I hopped out to give the last drop a quick scout, ran the obvious and easy line, and pushed the boat into an eddy shortly thereafter. In the rush, I wasn´t able to get many pictures myself, but the other guys came down behind me with cameras.

On the same run, Zak waited until we had all gone through so he could run the first four drops in sequence without stopping. He took a perfect line off the 30-footer that lined him up to finish off the next three without getting his head wet. This is truly an outstanding section of whitewater.

Río Llancahue: IV+

About an hour and a half south of Pucon, the Río Llancahue flows off the southern flank of Volcan Villarica. We made two separate trips to this classic creeky run. The first time, we put in too high, forcing us into a silly portage back up to the road where we walked to a better put-in. Just below the put-in comes the highlight of the run: a beautifully clean 23-footer into a big pool.

Alan nailing the line perfectly, 20 feet in the air

The lead-in offers a fast angled approach to the lip, where you slide down the first five feet to an auto-boof flake. It´s easy to err to either side on this one, but the consequences are minimal. Here´s a sequence Mike took of me running the waterfall.





On our second lap, everyone had great runs. We came away warmed up and excited for the rest of the run. Below here, the run is class III boogey water until the bridge rapid, which can be seen/scouted from the road. This is one of the tougher drops on the run and can get rowdy, but is a total blast when done right!


Below the bridge are several more twisty bedrock rapids. Here´s Zak leading the charge on another IV+ drop.

And Mike on the same ledge, shot from below:

Along with a handful of tight, pushy rapids, the volcanic bedrock creates several boof ledges other than the waterfall. Here´s Joe on the biggest:

The entire run is roadside, so the take-out is wherever you want to make it. I believe the 8-foot ledge pictured above was the last rapid we ran before taking out above a log jam. Apparently there is one more great rapid below that portage, but further down is a huge drop that´s only been run a couple times. The Llancahue is a great day trip and is easy to run on the way to some of the other classics down south. Just upstream, Termas Ríncon offers great camping at the hot springs.


Access: From Pucon, drive on pavement through Villarica and Lican Ray to Conaripe. From there, follow signs to Termas Geometricas. After several (10?) kilometers, you´ll start driving along the river and eventually reach the turn-off for Termas Geometricas. Park your rig, hop the fence, and find your way down to the river there. Take out wherever you´d like. The full run is only about three kilometers, so the shuttle can easily be walked.

click here to check out more photos

Río Paucartambo/Mapacho

While we were in Peru, our biggest mission by far was the 10-day class IV/V trip on the Mapacho, also known as the Paucartambo. I´ve been a marvelous slacker and have taken forever to get the posts up, but they´re all now available on the blog for viewing. Over the next few days/weeks, I´ll continue to add pictures, but that has proven to be a little time-consuming, so be patient. For now, those interested can at least read a little bit about what each day had in store for us.

Day 1
Day 2
Day 3
Day 4
Day 5
Day 6
Day 7
Day 8
Day 9
Day 10

Enjoy, and check back for more photos!

Lower Santa Teresa (III)

After a disappointing morning on the Sacsara, we decided to take a look at the more voluminous Santa Teresa. We all decided against our initial aspirations of checking out the upper run, which is reputed to be a steep, multi-day classic. Instead we agreed on running the lower roadside section. Initially, our hired shuttle rig took us to the upper bridge at the end of the road in a town called Playa. Sadly, some recent road construction has dumped plenty of sharp rocks into the river creating steep rapids that needed much more water to be clean. So we opted to put in at the middle bridge about six kilometers upstream of town.

To say the least, the Lower Santa Teresa is fun! The water was the clearest we´d seen yet in Peru and the flow was enough to avoid destroying our boats. Much like the Sacsara, the Santa Teresa was very continuous and shallow, but unlike the Sacsara it was more channelized and every section had a clean line and plenty of boof practice.

The run down to the lower bridge was a fast 5 km that took us just over a half-hour to cruise down. Everything was easy read-and-run where we only eddied out to catch our breath. Zak and Kase got in the first lap on this run and when we all went back as a group, we decided to continue down to the confluence with the Urubamba. Below the last bridge, the Santa Teresa got a little more powerful and near the confluence the river is loaded with wrecked train cars and railroad tracks leftover from a flood that ripped through here in 1998. Moving carefully, we were able to safely avoid all the scrap metal and finish off the fun last rapid on the Santa Teresa.

The Santa Teresa enters the Urubamba in the run-out of a class V rapid. Below the confluence, however, the river slows to class IV+ and then to class IV. We chose to take out at the bridge a few hundred yards below the confluence, although if you´re up for the tougher rapids, it´s worthwhile to continue another mile and take out at the next bridge next to the hot springs. The hike to the road is much easier down there. Sorry folks, no pictures....