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

Page 5: The Story Continues...

We got up early for the big day. I'd stuffed all my loose items (film, repair kit, goodies, etc.) in my sleeping bag stuff sac last night and the first thing I noticed was that my stuff sac was gone. GONE! Major bummer. Some blamed it on the dogs hanging about but I was skeptical and in a foul mood until the rapids charmed me back to happiness.

As we headed down to the falls there was a near disaster with the Shredder when it missed an eddy 200 m from "Saltos de Diablo" - Devil's Leap; the local's name for the lip of the falls. We tried to pull it in with throw ropes but pulled Fico off the raft instead. Pepe Negro jumped off in the next instant fearing he would go over the falls. Once again I was convinced the Shredder was history as it headed for the falls and Sipia Cataract.

Kurt took off after it and then a few more of us as soon as we were in our boats; running a Class V drop blindly. Not too smart! Again we lucked out. The Shredder jammed in the rocks just below an 8' drop and less than 100 m from the falls. The ghost of Atahualpa must be looking out for us.

Eventually, we all made it safely to Sipia and soon began packing our boats for the mega-portage. Half of us carried our boats to Rene's burros where he quickly secured them and we started out for Chaupo where we could regain the river. The rest of the group had to load their gear on the Laurel & Hardy burros.

We hung out in Chaupo eating fresh oranges, guavas, higos (figs) and chirimoyas at Leonardo and Gabina's farm waiting for the comedy team to catch up. They arrived hours later while we were bartering for dinner. Gabina agreed to come down to the river and cook us dinner and breakfast. Rene would not send his burros down the trail and I could see why. The trail to the river was 1,500 ft straight down and very rough. Belaying our boats and gear down was quite a task. I couldn't believe it when Gabina showed up at dusk in bare feet with pots, pans and dinner for 12.

Gabina's meal is scrumptious. For dessert, the locals assure us it will be "tranquillo" from here to Velinga even though our map pencils out at over 200 ft/mile. It's about 5 km (by river) and since we've only boated 3-1/2 km in 3 days we prepare for the worst. We'll bring plenty of extra food. With full bellies we turn in for the night hoping that the blood sucking roaches that carry Chaga's disease are sleeping too. As I drift off to sleep in this place known as "Huayrapjunku" the mathematician in me keeps thinking: Let's see, 3.5 km in 3 days. That's averaging a bit more than 1 km per day. Hm, that leaves 97 km to go at an average of...how much food did we bring?

We arise before dawn to the rockfall of Gabina and Leonardo bringing breakfast; oranges, baked corn kernels, sweetened milk and something akin to Cream of Wheat. This morning we put on the river very early and around the first bend find a huge landslide that has created Class V rapids as far as we can see downstream. So the locals call this "tranquillo", eh? In their honor, we name this section "Flat Water Canyon". At least there will be some good photo opportunities.

By the end of the day we've added seven significant rapids to a large list. The first one, "Barro Rojo" - Red Mud, set the tone. One or two run at a time with everyone else doing safety duty and the Shredder coming last. I've lost count of the number of back enders (back flips) I've done today. Kayaks loaded with gear have a tendency to do rear enders in big rapids. Each one is a full-on, adrenaline rush. We name one rapid "Lengua de Fico" - Fico's Tongue in honor of Fico's wild ride.

Eventually the Class V eased off to Class IV and we had lunch near Hacienda Plasuela. Shortly thereafter we came to another of the limestone gorge that we needed to climb through to make sure it had a safe exit. A problem developed from an unexpected source. Lucho, the photographer, had been hiking along the banks taking photos and being ferried across pools to avoid the cliffs. Just upstream from this gorge both banks were squeezed simultaneously by cliffs which Lucho had to bypass. I thought I heard some faint yelling and eventually spied Lucho half way up a 100 ft cliff of compacted mud and boulders. He was big-time STUCK!

I raced across the river, hiked upstream, climbed above him (scary!) and lowered my throw rope and helmet. The helmet was a must since I was knocking all sorts of rocks down on him. With Dave's help we eventually got him down safely. New problem! I needed to get back to my boat which was not as easy as it sounds; I didn't want to down-climb what I had come up. Luckily, I was able to hike downstream eventually regaining the river while Dave towed my boat there. Meanwhile, the gorge was found passable and we're off with Lucho riding in the Shredder for a bit.

The river finally eases and we spy Oso (The Bear) on shore. Oso is Jose Luis' gopher; the poor man's man. Oso tells us that the entire town is waiting for us with wine and a feast. We relax along the 1 - 2 km of Class III to Velinga while being escorted by dozens of children and a few others. In Velinga they produce a local wine which flows quite freely at the beach. Pretty soon the Quechua starts to sound like English or is it that the English is starting to sound like Quechua?

The feast is a rather primal affair; straight out of a National Geographic Special. The mayor slaughters one sheep with a Swiss Army knife, butchers it and throws it on branches over hot coals. The other one escapes and Oso is sent to chase it down. KurtŐs in his element now as we pass around liters of wine and blood soup while chowing on spuds until the mutton is done.

At bed time nothing new is obviously missing. My sleeping bag is still here and that's all that counts at the moment. As I doze off, stuffed to the gills, I can't help thinking, once again, how incredible this place is. We spent four river-days getting here and it's been almost all Class V whitewater. We're ready for a break. There's a Class V+ gorge just below town but then 7 km of "tranquillo" river according to the locals. Well, we've heard that one before...