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The Rio Cotahuasi: Jewel of the Andes- A First Descent by Franz Helfenstein

Page 3: The Story Continues...

The burro fiasco was one of the best comedy acts I ever witnessed. Half the burros were loaded with kayaks in some state of falling off. Sen~ ors Laurel & Hardy rushed from burro to burro fixing the rigging but could barely make the complete circuit before the first one was again coming loose. This turned out to be our procedure for traveling to the river; move from burro to burro and re-lash the kayaks. After an hour of this we decided to just carry or drag our boats the rest of the way. Four hours later we arrived at Piro; a viewpoint a few hundred feet above the river.

The put-in, at 2,250 meters, was named "El Hueco" - The Hole. It was fairly calm there and we assumed we would be at Sipia Cataract in a few hours drinking the obligatory Cervesas. We made arrangements to have some burros go back and get the rest of our gear and then meet us downstream. Needless to say Dave and I were destined to spend a cold night without our sleeping bags.

I've since learned that the number one rule here is - DON'T GET SEPARATED FROM YOUR GEAR. My passport was in the flipped Uni-mog (could be a big bummer), now my sleeping bag was missing and my watch already got snatched off my lifejacket on the trip to the put-in. However, I had the crucial equipment: kayak, paddle, helmet, spray skirt, life jacket and my goody bag of Power Bars, Snickers, GORP and Jerky. The river called, all problems became trivial and away we went. Nice and mellow.

The Class III lasted for a couple of hundred meters and then the true character of the Rio Cotahuasi emerged as it disappeared over the horizon line; steep, boulder-choked gorges with few exits. I was relieved there was only 800-900 cfs (cubic feet per second) flowing in it. Filled with gear, the kayaks were heavy and sluggish. Before long we were scouting the entire river and taking turns running Class IV and V sections one or two at a time. As we hippity-hopped slowly downstream we quickly realized we would never make it to the falls that day. Just before we reached the first foot bridge there was a deceptive rapid we named "The Wall" which, much to our delight, we all negotiated successfully. Lunch time came and went.

At one point I got stuck under an undercut but was able to shove myself along while upside down until I cleared the undercut and rolled up. No relaxing on this river! Little adrenaline surges kept reminding me that a kayak load with of gear is a major liability on such a river. Kurt named that rapid "Harry Peludo" - Harry hairy.

True to his reputation, Fico dragged Lucho and the Shredder down some psycho-chute ricocheting between the boulders like a pin ball and getting broached. With the Danger Boys scrambling madly to keep from flipping they finally popped free and floated through. Fico is fearless to the point of insanity though a few flips since then have toned him down a bit. Lucho was just along to take some photos and thought he'd try rafting since both Pepes were busy checking on Juan. He's ready to start walking.

In another difficult section we mixed boat scouting with quick-peek scouting where one of us would hop out to check the line to the next eddy. This seemed to work quite well until John got himself sidetracked into a heniously tight, boulder garden. He broke his paddle, flipped and smashed his face but somehow managed to roll up only to be wedged precariously on the cliff side of that Class V rock garden.

There was no way to get to him from the right bank and the left bank was a 200 ft high, sheer cliff. I hopped out of my boat, wedged it into the rocks and began traversing upstream along the cliff. It was only 5.4 rock climbing but river sandals and the danger factor made it feel like 5.10. Eventually I reached John. He was all bloody but indicated he was OK. By hooking my throw rope to his bow I was able to winch him free. Fortunately we carried spare paddles and soon we were off. We brought 5 spare breakdown paddles with us, now a few hours into a two week trip we are down to 4. That rapid we named "Cheloc Cahuito" - Staring at the Sky.