It seems that we have our biggest adventures on the river. Duarte and I spent the afternoon kayaking on a section of the Tamega river. Our afternoon began with an hour long drive from Chaves to a small village where the put in for the river sits at the end of a road with a few houses and a field full of cows. Duarte’s father Filinto accompanied us so that we would have a ride at the end of the river. We dressed in our paddling clothes beside the cows, while a woman from the neighboring house watched us. No doubt wondering what we were doing with the small, plastic boats on her river. We shoved off with a wave goodbye and our adventure began.
Duarte had orchestrated the afternoon of paddling. He had studied the guidebook, arranged a shuttle with his father and prepared our gear and the boats. I was dragging my feet and reluctantly agreed to the outing. We were late leaving Chaves and even later getting on the river. By our estimates from the map and guidebook, we figured that if we moved quickly we could complete the 9 Kilometers in about an hour and a half – which would get us off the river around 5:00 or 5:30 just before dark. Filinto would meet us at the end to take us home.
The river started off wide. It was mostly flat water aside from a few rapids here and there. In my boat, I let my foul mood slip away – remembering the many days on the water Duarte and I had before kids…a whole lifetime ago. The banks of the river were green. Sheep were grazing in the grass. They stopped to watch us pass. The river hadn’t had much recreational traffic. It seemed odd to be passing through landscapes few had seen before.
The difficulty of the river progressed from flat water to class 2 rapids and then to class 3 rapids as the walls of the canyon became more narrow as the water picked up speed. After years away from kayaking, I was feeling surprisingly confident in the boat. It felt so good to feel the rush of the waves beneath me, the splash of cold water on my face, the excitement of what was to come. Duarte and I eased back into our partnership on the river.
As the guidebook promised, a class 5 rapid appeared around a bend in the river. Stopping to scout the rapid, we climbed upon large, wet, granite boulders that were slippery with the moisture. Every movement needed to be precisely planned to keep from falling into the ugly rapid below. Sharp thorns grew in between the monstrous rocks grabbing at our clothing. The rapid was navigable for Duarte but too difficult for me so I needed to portage it. Carrying the boat over the slippery surface of the rocks proved to be quite challenging. Duarte helped me with the portage and then jumped in his own boat to run the rapid. He did so with incredible finesse…no trouble at all. We both breathed a sigh of relief as this was to be the last big rapid on the river according to the guidebook. The portage was hard work and neither of us wanted to do anything like that again.
Just around the next curve of the river was another long, choppy rapid. We agreed to scout this one. Climbing atop of yet another wet, slippery boulder we looked down through the long succession of rapids. This one was to be portaged by both of us. With even more effort than the previous rapid, we lugged our boats up an over the rocks and though the thorns. This portage took nearly 30 minutes. The sun was already disappearing behind the canyon walls. We needed to hurry. Duarte voiced his concern about the impending dark and the misinformation from the guidebook. Should we hike out? Should we keep on going? We decided to paddle on and see what was ahead.
The next series of rapids were long and choppy and very close together. We opted not to scout them and just go, in the interest of time. Paddling through the swirling water with large waves splashing my face, tossing my boat, I paddled hard – determined to punch through the rapid and be closer to the end. Duarte was staying close, keeping an eye on me as the difficulty was increasing. We had almost made it through the third rapid when my boat was jostled by the tumultuous water. Over I went, my effort for a brace, rejected. The water was cold and it was moving fast. I eased out of my boat and kept my mind focused on getting my boat, my paddle and myself to the side of the river. I did this swiftly but once on the side of the river, the water was moving in a circular direction catching me and my boat in a cycle which was difficult to get out of. After a round or two in the current, I finally released the boat which allowed me the use of my hands to swim free. Unfortunately the boat was no longer within reach. Around the whirlpool it went and then it bumped a rock and off it went down the river. Duarte jumped into his kayak quickly and paddled madly after my boat. He caught up to the nearly sunken boat about a ¼ mile down the river. We met along side the river a little ways down. It was time to make a decision.
The sky now had little light. The river ahead of us wasn’t trustworthy. The very next rapid was another long succession of waves, curves and rocks. I wasn’t feeling very optimistic about my paddling skills any longer and worried that another swim would do me in. Looking up at the steep slopes of the canyon, I noticed an old stone wall ascending the mountain. We had a way out. If we didn’t hike out, we might be faced with more ugly, slippery portages or a dark run down this unknown river. Duarte decided to run the rapid to see what lie ahead while I paddled towards the side of the river where the wall rose above us.
I dragged my kayak up as high as I could on the slippery rocks. Duarte joined me. He said the next rapid looked big. As we made the decision to hike out, we switched into survival mode. We had on our capilene, our brightly colored spray jackets, our pfd’s, booties and our helmets…enough to keep us warm for a little while. We stashed our kayaks up high behind some rocks knowing that we wouldn’t get far with them as the climb would be steep. Darkness was setting in. It was hard to tell which direction to go. After one path led to a dead end, we turned the other way, quickly moving up the steep slope. Along the way, we found an orange tree and grabbed a few oranges– both of us thinking this would be survival food for what was sure to be a long night. Within 15 minutes, to our great surprise, we came upon a dilapidated house. A dog barked at us as we approached. Duarte decided to knock on the door to ask for help. I was thinking that to the people living in this remote home we may as well be aliens dressed as we were. An old lady answered the door and was obviously scared. Duarte explained the situation a number of times before the woman reluctantly allowed him into her home to use a phone. We called Filinto who had been waiting at the take-out very worried. He was relieved to have heard from us and agreed to meet us on the road as soon as he could get to us. Duarte asked the lady how far we were to the nearest road, thinking we must be miles from civilization. The woman pointed to a light about 50 meters from her home indicating that that was a well traveled road.
Duarte and I laughed as we walked out to the road to wait for Filinto. Only minutes before we were ready to stay the night in the wilderness, we were ready to survive. On the road, we were being rescued and we would be home in our cozy house with our children in the hour to come. Ha.
Waiting for Filinto under a street light, the cool night air started to chill us. Few cars passed. Then we heard the Land Rover’s diesel engine speeding up the mountain. At the very moment Filinto rounded the corner to where we waited, a large truck passed between us and him. Filinto sped on past us leaving us wondering what we would do next. We stood there in disbelief for a full 30 seconds before speaking. Finally, we started to walk up the mountain road toward the next village. Realizing this would take a long time and that it was unlikely Filinto would turn around, Duarte decided to approach yet another dilapidated house to ask to use the phone. Once again the river alien walked into an unsuspecting home to explain our dilemma. Fortunately, they too welcomed us in to use their phone. 10 minutes later, Filinto came more slowly down the mountain to rescue us from the dark, cold night.
We decided to leave our kayaks until we could return in daylight to get them. On Sunday, we went back to get our kayaks. We stopped at the house of the first lady we encountered that night to ask permission to cross her land for our boats. She was happy to let us hike down to the river. She confided to us in the daylight that she was really scared that night. She thought we were bad people who had come to hurt her.
In daylight our decisions from our kayaking day were validated. It was a steep slope down and evidently the only cultivated land in the gorge. Had we not hiked out at this point – we would not have had the opportunity to hike out anywhere else. Looking down at the river from up high we could see the rapids we ran and the rapids that were ahead. Had we opted to paddle further that day, we would have had a long, difficult night ahead of us. The very next rapid would have been impossible for me as it was long, narrow, steep, and rocky… we would have had yet another difficult portage certainly leaving us in the river for the night.
It was good to look down at that incredible river that we paddled and think about the choices we made. We did the right thing, we were challenged and we had a good time.
Duarte can’t wait to get back to the river… I can.
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