Ubud district
Part two of our gravity fed non-cycling adventures
We are picked up from our hotel and deposited at the top of a massive canyon. After being introduced to our guides, we are fitted with helmets, life jackets and paddles, and then descend the near vertical canyon on slippery moss covered concrete steps. The sound of the river below increases … and increases.
I estimate we walked down stairs for about 10 minutes, I wish I had recorded it on my GPS unit.
At the bottom we huddle on a rickety, rusty steel platform as the guides inflate the raft and go through a safety drill. This seems somewhat pointless, as they use an electric air blower plugged into a socket to inflate the raft. All the while we are sprayed by mist from below, and dripped on from above. Electricity, water, and steel don't usually combine well in any WH&S manuals I have seen!
This point is as high as you can enter the raging river; 50 metres upstream the river drops 20 metres between narrow vertical rock walls.
The guides are muscly and lean, and as the raging river below could quite easily crush the unwary or ill prepared, I have a quiet confidence in their abilities. Besides, what choice do we have?
The first fifteen minutes are the best, bouncing and rocking between vertical rock walls, dropping over large rocks, half filling the raft with water. It is dark - the colour palette ranges from black to dark green. Not much direct light penetrates the steep canyon walls. Moss and small ferns cling to the slick volcanic rock, worn smooth from years of abrasion.
The guides reverse us under a waterfall to be pummelled by the white water falling over 100 metres. Eventually the rock walls widen and give way to a narrow, jungle covered valley. It is very steeply sided, and I wonder how the vegetation clings to it.
As the rapids begin to reduce in ferocity, we begin to see other rafting groups join the river, and then more, until it becomes a procession. At some rapids we wait our turn to descend.
At this point I'm done - over it. What once felt like a potentially dangerous pursuit in a remote location has become another crass over-commercialised, touristy enterprise. The other boats are mostly filled with giggling young women with inappropriate footwear.
Where once we were required to help safely convey our craft - albeit under instruction from our expert guides - we are now merely passengers in a theme park.
For those playing at home we rafted 10k in 1:31, descending 302m
http://app.strava.com/activities/72500372
I estimate we walked down stairs for about 10 minutes, I wish I had recorded it on my GPS unit.
At the bottom we huddle on a rickety, rusty steel platform as the guides inflate the raft and go through a safety drill. This seems somewhat pointless, as they use an electric air blower plugged into a socket to inflate the raft. All the while we are sprayed by mist from below, and dripped on from above. Electricity, water, and steel don't usually combine well in any WH&S manuals I have seen!
This point is as high as you can enter the raging river; 50 metres upstream the river drops 20 metres between narrow vertical rock walls.
The guides are muscly and lean, and as the raging river below could quite easily crush the unwary or ill prepared, I have a quiet confidence in their abilities. Besides, what choice do we have?
The first fifteen minutes are the best, bouncing and rocking between vertical rock walls, dropping over large rocks, half filling the raft with water. It is dark - the colour palette ranges from black to dark green. Not much direct light penetrates the steep canyon walls. Moss and small ferns cling to the slick volcanic rock, worn smooth from years of abrasion.
The guides reverse us under a waterfall to be pummelled by the white water falling over 100 metres. Eventually the rock walls widen and give way to a narrow, jungle covered valley. It is very steeply sided, and I wonder how the vegetation clings to it.
As the rapids begin to reduce in ferocity, we begin to see other rafting groups join the river, and then more, until it becomes a procession. At some rapids we wait our turn to descend.
At this point I'm done - over it. What once felt like a potentially dangerous pursuit in a remote location has become another crass over-commercialised, touristy enterprise. The other boats are mostly filled with giggling young women with inappropriate footwear.
Where once we were required to help safely convey our craft - albeit under instruction from our expert guides - we are now merely passengers in a theme park.
For those playing at home we rafted 10k in 1:31, descending 302m
http://app.strava.com/activities/72500372
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