Gitgit
Part three of our gravity fed non-cycling
adventures
I have a healthy fear of heights, and having tried rock climbing - both indoor & outdoor - I know that I can be easily scared into a semi-irrational quivering mess. I can get to a point in a climb where I fear going on and can't return, swearing to myself that I will never again willingly put myself in a similar situation.
So why am I canyoning? Well, I thought it would be a merry jape, shits and giggles, akin to a child playing in puddles. I thought there would be a bit of swimming through deep, cool, crystal-clear pools, mixed with a bit of sliding into the next pool, maybe a little jump from a rock ledge a few metres above the water to add a frisson of excitement.
How wrong I was.
As we were introduced to the guides by the maniacally laughing Mika, soon to be named 'The Crazy Frog' - they were using this trip as an assessment to qualify for the next level in canyon guiding - I realised that my expectations were far from reality. The guides - a Balinese whose name I have unfortunately forgotten, and a Jordanian called Bashir - were both young, keen and professional as they explained the basics of our gear and how to attach to, and descend the abseiling rope.
When we entered the canyon it was a relief to get wet, wading and splashing though cool pools before the first 'feature'. This is what I had been expecting; a small chute maybe 3 metres in length, which we slid down into a very deep accommodating pool below. Next it was time to put all that extreme abseiling training into practice; a 4 meter drop over slippery, smooth worn volcanic rock, a bit tricky, but no real problem. As we progressed down the canyon the features became more challenging, until after a short break for a cup of sweet tea and some cakes, we were faced with a sheer 25m drop - with a waterfall.
At this point I was thinking back to those times where I promised myself never to do this again. My emotional brain was saying 'stop, this is crazy', and my logical brain was saying 'the gear is safe; the guides know what they are doing'. My logical brain won.
Onward.
The roping up and preparation were the worst, it was sphincter tightening territory. Once I was abseiling, and getting closer to the pool below I felt much happier. Or should I say, less unhappy.
One more 19m abseil and zip-line later and it was over. I can't say I was disappointed. I let my fear wash away, safe in the knowledge that I had survived.
It was not what I had expected. It was far more intense and adrenaline pumping. I may not do it again, but I'm glad I did it.
Oh … by the way, the canyon was beautiful; the black-green walls worn smooth by eons of rising and falling flood water. At times the whole sky was covered by an umbrella of green foliage, cracked open by shafts of bright sunlight. Where the walls were soil, layers of geologic strata were laid bare, dripping profusely and losing groundwater in veils of diamond droplets.
For those playing at home we canyoned for 3 hours and I peed in my wetsuit 3 times!
So why am I canyoning? Well, I thought it would be a merry jape, shits and giggles, akin to a child playing in puddles. I thought there would be a bit of swimming through deep, cool, crystal-clear pools, mixed with a bit of sliding into the next pool, maybe a little jump from a rock ledge a few metres above the water to add a frisson of excitement.
How wrong I was.
At this point I was thinking back to those times where I promised myself never to do this again. My emotional brain was saying 'stop, this is crazy', and my logical brain was saying 'the gear is safe; the guides know what they are doing'. My logical brain won.
Onward.
The roping up and preparation were the worst, it was sphincter tightening territory. Once I was abseiling, and getting closer to the pool below I felt much happier. Or should I say, less unhappy.
One more 19m abseil and zip-line later and it was over. I can't say I was disappointed. I let my fear wash away, safe in the knowledge that I had survived.
It was not what I had expected. It was far more intense and adrenaline pumping. I may not do it again, but I'm glad I did it.
Oh … by the way, the canyon was beautiful; the black-green walls worn smooth by eons of rising and falling flood water. At times the whole sky was covered by an umbrella of green foliage, cracked open by shafts of bright sunlight. Where the walls were soil, layers of geologic strata were laid bare, dripping profusely and losing groundwater in veils of diamond droplets.
For those playing at home we canyoned for 3 hours and I peed in my wetsuit 3 times!
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