Never did get to see Ngauruhoe, but that's not what this post is about. I'd like for this to be a tale of adventure, and heroism. Survival in the face of disaster, but unfortunately I think it will become more of a list of complaints.
We planned this Whanganui kayak trip months in advance. George was obsessed with the "Bridge to Nowhere "http://www.doc.govt.nz/conservation/historic/icon-heritage-sites/bridge-to-nowhere-wanganui/. It was to be the highlight of the trip, last great adventure before we headed back to Auckland, and from moment one it was a complete disaster. When Yeti the cheapest option for good reason Tours http://www.yetitours.co.nz/ couldn't find our reservation, we probably should have seen it as a sign. Oh, here you are, you aren't supposed to be here until the 27th! OF COURSE we booked for the 27th since we were to fly home on the 26th. It was alright though, they had a driver dropping someone else off at a different spot. Oh and don't forget to pick up that other couple, who are finishing today. I didn't write them on the calendar but they should be at Whakahoro. Oh now that's a great sign, I wonder how often they forget people.
My mom always said "if you want something done right, do it yourself," well our DOC reservation fiasco sure proved her right. We planned on staying in the hut system, primarily so that we could use the gas cookers, and have a warm meal instead of the bread and jam we were by then growing sick of . George was assured by Yeti that the best course of action was to book our camping arrangements when we arrived at their facility, it's off-season, there will be plenty of availability "no worries mate." So we didn't book with the DOC online in advance. Naturally, they couldn't get into the system on the morning of the 21st. After wasting more than an hour (of our first, and longest, paddling day!) we were sent down to where the kayaks were kept to start packing. The lady from the office came down some time later with a sheet of paper with a handwritten note saying we'd paid for two nights of camping but their computer was down, so she'd reserve with the DOC later. Camping. Not the hut. So much for dinner, we'd shopped for food that needed cooking. Not that we even made it to the hut on night one, by then we were several hours late departing.
Along the ride, we struggled unsuccessfully to see Tongariro through the clouds, but the misty rain wouldn't give us a view. The weather report seemed positive, it was going to clear up, most of the showers would be overnight, and just as they were getting to tomorrow, the station was flipped to music. Weather wasn't relevant. I thought about asking him to turn it back, but what then? Were turning back now? We were finally on the road. We're actually doing this.
It did start out pleasant enough, after a couple of anecdotes about previous renters. The Aussie couple who'd never kayaked before, didn't flip once. The Canadian couple with Yukon experience who flipped 6K in and called to be picked up. The driver had dropped us off and pulled out, when he stopped and came running with a couple of lines and two sponges. Might prove useful. And off we were. Cherry Grove to Pipiriki in 3 days!
It was a lovely first oh, half hour, really. I didn't think too much of the spinning since I kept putting my paddle down to photograph the rolling hills and sheep. Lots of sheeps! Gorgeous river, I don't wonder why it's sacred to the local Maori. Peaceful paddle, spin, paddle, spin, how'd that goat get there? Found the spot the Canadians quit at. Whoops. First patch of rapids, and I could not stay pointed forward, hard as I tried. Clearly, they realized what the Aussies did not. Sea Kayaks aren't made for river rapids.
No, sea kayaks are not made for river rapids. Especially not sea kayaks that have had their rudders removed. I didn't learn until day two that the proper protocol for starting to spin, is to go with it, just paddle backwards until you can get turned back around after the rapids. With the heavy front and the narrow body, all fighting the spin accomplished was dumping me out of the boat. Five degrees off course, and it was going to be 180 in 3 seconds or into the river. Magical spinning kayaks. On the upside it was perfectly possible to travel in a straight line... going backwards.
I didn't figure out that the strategy for spinning in rapids should be "just go with it" until the second day. Day one was all flipping.
Getting nervous about an hour before sunset, and the campsite it still "just a couple more bends" away when i approach a fairly mild rapids patch in a bend next to a sheer 50 foot wall that continues as far as I can see. Beach on the side the current pushes away from. Going into it, I knew that I would flip. I didn't let myself down. Started to spin, started to fight, and in. There was no swimming toward the beach. I tried. I gave everything I had trying to battle to shore, and then I floated for 10 minutes until a shallow enough spot to dump out the water and get back in. A skirt that fit the boat (without a person even in it!) might have come in handy. I like to swim though, it was chilly, but synthetics rule. Got back in and got moving. Didn't know yet that the dry bags from yeti weren't so dry.
Finally we rounded the last bend, and I saw the campsite sign! Hurray! The idea of paddling with a headlamp, when I couldn't keep from flipping, had my stomach in knots. There was nowhere to just set up camp b/c of the sheer cliffs. But finally, we were there! Finally... a muddy staricase chiseled out of the rock? This is gonna be fun to get a boat up. One final flip before getting out, added a lot of water weight to my boat. Since it was too deep to stand, flipping the boat to dump it wasn't so possible. Poured as much out as possible and started tugging. Got up one slippery step. Thought about getting under it and dumping more water, but these steps were steep. And muddy. Used all my strength, threw all my weight the other direction, pulled it up another inch. Greatful for my vibram 5-fingers, clung to the muddy rock and tugged and tugged. And wore my hungry, wet, just paddled a lot of miles body completely out. The worst thought was, even if I do get my body up this, how the hell are we getting George up?
Why's the girl always the one who sucks it up and does the ridiculous? Well, I was already the one covered in mud.
Thought about getting back in the boat and seeing if there was an easier approach, but the river bent, and if there wasn't, there would be no getting back to the staircase. Next campsite many many more miles down. Darkness setting in. Pulled some more. Then George got the idea to throw me the sponge. Ha! Brilliant. I'd lost mine a long time earlier after flipping. If I didn't catch if, we wouldn't have a sponge, but the boat was not getting up otherwise. I caught it. It was a long time balancing on my hands and knees getting the water out, but when it was empty, I somehow found strength to get the boat up. Got it to a safe point where it wouldn't slide, and ran up and over the hil..... and found an easier spot for George to take out!
Put on dry clothes, discovered my sleeping bag got drenched, and enjoyed (enjoyed?) some bread and jam for dinner. Kiwi food sucks. It was good to sit.
It rained relentelessly on day two, but we paddled on making the best of it. It's not like we weren't getting wet anyway. Still pretty, just wiping off my eyes a lot. When we got to the bridge to nowhere, George's trip was ruined. It was a fight, really, to continue. He claimed the bridge to nowhere was the point of the trip, but when I saw that muddy staircase much like the muddy staircase from the night before, the answer was no. I'm not doing that again. No. He debated options and alternatives and different approaches, all the while, heartrates are slowing down and shivers are setting in. Uncontrollabel shivers, getting worse. We need to move. I need to see this. I'm going to freeze to death. I wouldn't have planned this trip, if not for this. It's a flipping bridge in the jungle. You didn't do that last night so you don't understand, I'm not doing it again. Finally, moping and cursing, he allowed us to continue. It was awhile before I stopped shaking.
Still raining, we got to the nights campground well enough before sunset. The warden was kind enough to let us use the hut kitchen even though, we were not only not signed up to stay at the hut, he didn't even have a record of us as campers! Glad the campsite the night before was deserted, Yeti never sent the info over! We got dried up, and cooked. Food! Real food, on a real stovetop! Oh it was incredible. The sun came out the final day. It was beautiful, and hey, I even figured out how to stop spinning! Started to enjoy myself and then it was over, we were picked up at two.
The Yeti guy was incredulous that the hut warden didn't offer us beds despite not even having reservations to camp! He wanted to know the guys name and was going to file a complaint. We claimed not to know it. He was also in shock that the boats were the wrong type for a river, admitting to not knowing anything about kayaking, and told us to come talk to the owner when he'd be in a few days later. Of course we had no plans of still being in town then, so George sent an email that never got a reply.
I'd still highly recommend the river. Definitely stay at Tieke Kainga. Hope the local Maori are staying there too, for a unique cultural experience! The weather, obviously kept them away when we were there, but Tieke is still cool nonetheless. Don't rent from Yeti. Find someone with dry-drybags and river boats. River boats are important. Long enough paddles, too!
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