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At 4 a.m. we were on a bus filled with a loud group from Israel that smelled like they just came from the discos we were now driving past. We were headed for a 5 hour trip to the start of the Apurimac River, the farthermost source of the Amazon set deep in a 9,900 feet canyon, for a 3 day whitewater rafting trip with SwissRaft company. The Rio Apurimac is one of the top ten rafting rivers in the world, with amazing scenery, world class IV and V rapids, and pristine beaches backed by steep rocky walls twice as deep as the Grand Canyon.
The ride was one of the most beautiful, and scariest, drives in my life along cliffs deep into the mountains where the road could have used some widening. Note to self, the window seat is NOT always the best seat. I actually had to close my eyes a few times but we finally arrived at the river lined by deep gorges and rainforest. We changed into wetsuits, and helped the guides blow up the rafts and load the camping gear and food into them. The guides explained that day one is a training day, and began with a safety talk and instruction to prepare us for the challenging rapids. They threw coca leaves into the river as a gift for Pachamama, mother earth, and then we climbed into the boats and set off down the river to practice. Within a few minutes we reached our first rapids, class II to III. We practiced for a while, listening to the instructions of our guide Williams, "paddle left, paddle right, back, paddle HARD, GET DOWN"! We made it through and were feeling pretty proud of ourselves as Williams steered us over to the side of the river for a break. We slapped our paddles in a high five, and then Williams leaned forward and looking directly at me (who had to sit in the front dammit) said "Now we are going to practice saving your partners, I'm going to steer us into that black water over there, it's a powerful whirlpool and undercurrent and at least one of you will definitely fall out". Shute. In we went, the front of the boat got stuck in this current and the back started to lift up as water reached into the front and with powerful hands ripped me out and under the raft. I moved along fast and my head came up for a second before getting slapped repeatedly in the face by the waves. Oh hell. I heard Williams voice and tried to look for the boat but within a minute something yellow appeared in front of me which turned out to be Santiago, one of the (rescue) kayak guides. I grabbed on to the front of the kayak as they show you, chin and feet wrapped on top so as not to tip him over, and he brought me over to the raft. Louis dragged me, waterlogged and gasping, into the boat which was now guideless as Williams had fallen out too when the back of the raft rose in the air. We pulled ourselves together and highfived again. The Israeli's lit cigarettes and swore a lot. I shivered and wanted to punch Williams, however the point was made and we would take the next couple days seriously. He decided we were now ready so we paddled over to a gorgeous sandy beach, surrounded by stunning rock formations and views of the mountains, and just big enough to host our camp group. The guides lit fires and put out hot tea and popcorn, which was devoured while we stripped out of our wetsuits and set up our tents. I was still sick and now could not stop shivering, so I walked over to punch Williams in the arm and have a little chat about rotating positions in the morning.
The guides made us a fantastic spread for dinner, with hot vegetable soup and meat stew with rice. After they gave us a pep talk and told us what to expect for tomorrow.
We rose before sunrise and packed up the campsite. Then changed into our still wet and very cold wetsuits.
The rapids were pretty much non stop, and incredible class IV+. Every time we came through a set, I looked back at it and wondered how we made it through without flipping or falling out as some of the others did. We were soaked, but we weren't swimming. Twice we needed to get out and walk while the guides carried the rafts through V+ rapids with waterfalls. Even this was exciting, while watching the power of this river there was never a dull moment. Williams was an awesome guide. During the picturesque calmer sections, we enjoyed stunning views from every angle of the rocky gorge lined with cactus and tropical plants, with condors and eagles soaring overhead in a perfectly clear blue sky. Williams told us stories, he's from a small village in the mountains close to the river and has been rafting and kayaking this river for 11 years, starting when he was 15. He pointed to the water lines 15 feet above our heads where the river rises to, and mentioned a few crazy stories of the rapids when the water is that high. He also told us about a festival in the mountains here, held every July, called the Jaguar festival but I'm doubting I'm spelling it correctly. The locals tie a cow carcass, to the top of a mountain and drench it with alcohol. When the scavenging Condors eat the meat they become drunk, and can't fly. The locals then capture one and tie it up, bringing it down to the village. The festival then begins. They tie the now very angry condor to a bull and a fight between these two animals begins, in which the massive condor wins. This is a symbolic fight, in which the condor represents the Inca people of Peru and the bull represents Spain. Once dead the people cut out the heart of the bull and present it as a gift in a ceremony for the Apus, mountain gods. The condor is released. The festival continues for a few days, there is plenty of food, drinking, and dancing and I begin thinking how I can arrange my schedule to come back for this party. Then Williams tells us about the last part, a fight to the death between two men. This fight must happen every year, and one man must die, as they believe it will bring the rest of the people safety and good for the rest of the year. Wow. But we didn't have much time to ponder this as the next rapid was upon us, and I did not find out how these men are selected but I was thankful to find out it would not be any of our rafting guides.
After 8 hours of rafting, we came to our second campsite. Again we stripped off the wetsuits, set up our tents, and snacked on tea and crackers while the guides built a fire and started to prepare our dinner for the night. We gathered firewood and I chatted with Santiago, my rescue kayaker. These guys were so much fun to watch in the water, always diving in with their short kayaks to any whirlpool, wave, or current they could find. Doing all kinds of tricks, flipping over and always rolling back up with a dripping with a big smile. They were always right by the rafts, making sure we were safe and felt that way. I had never wanted to kayak rapids before this, but watching this had inspired me. He had been rafting and kayaking for 11 years, also starting at 15. He pointed to a mountain top in the distance and explained that is where he grew up with his 12 siblings. I asked about kayaking the rapids, and he said he could teach me, they do lessons further down the river where it's only class I and II rapids. Done deal, I'm in.
I took advantage of a hammock while they started grilling enough meat for three times the amount of people we had. We had a great barbeque and even enjoyed some wine. And of course more stories. Williams and Santiago met in an interesting way, when they were 15 and just started working for the rafting companies. The first job was a "security" position during the rafting season, which included getting dropped off at the company's campsite with all of the equipment ahead of the guests, setting up, and remaining there for the duration of the busy season to stay with the equipment. Over a month, on a tiny beach, by yourself, at 15, with no boat to leave. As if this wasn't enough, at the end of the season when Williams was doing this, the company did not come back for him. Other rafting companies were going by, saying it was the last run, the river was getting too high and he should leave. But each time he thought he should wait as his company would come to get him and he didn't want to leave the equipment behind. Finally he was getting worried and was sitting drinking Tequila, trying to figure out how he would climb straight up the rocky cliff of the mountain if they didn't come, and Santiago came by. He had passed by before and told Williams that he would come back to check on him. The two of them climbed up the rocks into the night and the next day, with all of the equipment on their backs. They told this story laughing of course, and mentioned that these days, this position no longer exists thankfully. They now work for a different company.
Our third and last day in the river did not disappoint. We alternated class IV rapids with cliffdiving in the calmer section. There was a smooth section of class III rapids with not many rocks in which Williams yelled at us to jump out and we did, swimming and floating along exhilarated and not even noticing the icy cold water. The last stretch of river, Santiago switched places with me, and let me hop into his kayak and finish the day with a huge grin.
We packed up all the gear and changed, then had our final lunch with the group. It was the eve of Santiago's birthday so we all shared cervezas and toasted, and they taught me the Peruvian way to do this. It was a perfect trip and we decided to meet up at a club in Cusco later that night to celebrate by dancing until dawn.
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