An Officer and A Geek: 09/19/15

Nyami Nyami--God of the Zambezi

After a night of luxury, we drove back to Lookout cafe and signed away our lives before picking up our gear and heading up to the put-in place for our rafting adventure. OK ... this is exciting, and strenuous, and scary. I have never rafted anything but a class III/IV before. And, class III is bigger, much bigger, than class II. So ... class V was exciting.

In order to get to the put-in point above Rapid #1, we hiked. Stairs down. Steps carved into rock down. Around a cliff edge. Then climb down the cliff edge to get into our rafts in some churning water. My legs were spent. I was exhausted. The climb was probably 30-45 minutes. The Musician's knees were spent. Remember, he had knee surgery just a few months before and has quadriceps atrophy that is being re-built.

Our raft guide was Diego. He's the best!!! And, you will see why. Our raft consisted of the Cops, Power Paddler and Ski Patrol, and us. So ... one of the Cops had never rafted before, ever!! We had never been on this size river. We were definitely the inexperienced boat. And, the three smallest people on the trip were one of the Cops, Power Paddler, and me. Soooo .... work was going to need to happen.

We headed upstream to the boiling pot and practiced maneuvers and practiced pulling people back into the raft. Forward, back, turns, and my favorite "Get Down!!"

Then, off we went. I chose the front because I like the front. I have to admit, I often like being tossed out of the boat. Front is the roughest position, and the wettest. But, I also admit, I was a bit nervous on this river. IT. WAS. SO. MUCH. FUN!!! The rapids were brief and exhilarating and breathtaking, most of the time. We did not see the crocodile that lives at Rapid #3. Rapid #5, Stairway to Heaven, it felt like we went through a chute of water.

I didn't realize it, but Diego said we almost lost it there. We had to focus more, and we did. I can follow instructions after a stern talking to. Rapid #9 is called Commercial Suicide ... we portaged. Watching our porters and guides drop the boats over the rapids and float empty was impressive. We had lunch after Rapid #10 and had to do a little climbing to get to our lunch spot and my legs were feeling the earlier climb down the gorge and then the rafting kneeling position. Squatting for natural duties became a bit harder, if you catch my drift. Next rapid was #11. We will talk about her more. She has 2 names...Creamy White Buttocks or Overland Truck Eater. The second sounds more fearsome. Anyway, this rapid has two big side to side waves that can just suck you down in between the center and thrash you back and forth. I paddled hard. Power Paddler was in front with me and we were both knocked into the raft. In the bottom of the raft, she said "we're in trouble" and we were. The oar guide made of solid steel broke. Diego had worked very hard to keep us upright. His shoulder was hurting too. Thank goodness, we didn't break that. We had to work harder now. No big oar guides, even Diego had a small paddle. But we continued to have fun with the rushes of rapids. Then we came to Rapid #18 Oblivion. We watched ... boat 1...ping ping ping as people were tossed out and it flipped. Boat 2... everyone flipped out at once. OK, our turn.

We were so close, but I was the first to fling from the boat, like a tiddly wink. I remember reaching for the rope and missing. The Musician said he didn't even realize it at first he was working hard and looked up and wondered, where is my wife? Eventually the boat tossed out a few more people and it flipped. Female Cop, Diego, and Musician were the only ones that didn't need to be picked up. I loved the water. I saw huge waves coming, got into safety position, took a deep breath, and rode the rapid. I started gathering paddles. There was no boat nearby. Then, one of the safety guides was in the water ahead of me yelling at me to swim. I was like ... I'm fine, no big deal. Until he said ... there are crocodiles in the flats. OK ... I'll swim. I dropped all the paddles and swam. First to a kayak that was coming for me, then to my raft. One more small rapid and we were done for the day. There was a helicopter pad and a sandy beach at our take-out point. We were met by dancers and I joined in for a bit. Yes, I did. No rhythm at all. And, there are no pictures or videos to prove it, thank goodness.

We set up pup tents and rolled out sleeping bags and ate on camp chairs. The toilet was still a toilet with a hole. Apparently, it had to be moved as we were close to an active silver mine and just a few feet away, was an area of ore that was forbidden for us to venture into. The porters cooked over campfire and provided good, hot food. There was another camp on the Zambia side of the river and dogs running on the beach. It felt great to relax and sleep on the sand.

Next morning, after breakfast (I admit, I'm getting tired of baked beans by now), we were planning a second day of the same rapids. Because yesterday was so fun. But, before we could raft, we had to climb out of the gorge. Up Up Up Up Up ... Steps were cut into the path with branches ... or it was just straight up.

It took probably an hour and I was spent. But, the view at the top was totally worth the climb.

We drove past small villages and schools and homesteads back to the put-in point.

The Musician said his knee was spent. He wasn't up for the climb up, let alone the climb down. One of the Cops felt the same way. And Ski Patrol had injured his foot during the portage at Rapid #9 and couldn't bear weight. So today, it's just us girls and Diego. And we had big oars again. We did pick up 2 safety porters to give us some muscle. The tour company arranged to have massage therapists come down to provide treatments to the boys. Totally no fair!!! They said it was amazing. They enjoyed hanging out on the beach, watching the dogs, and chatting with our porters and chef. So, climb down again, same as yesterday. We did pretty good through rapids until lunch and it was just as exciting. Then, we hit it ... we were first in Overland Truck Eater. I don't know what happened. I saw slow motion, the raft went up on one side and flipped.

The rafts behind us said it was gnarly. The waves churned back and forth and we were sucked into the middle between them and the raft bounced and bounced and bounced. I kept trying to walk my way to the edge or end and was hit on the head again. My glasses were knocked off (thank goodness for croakies). My helmet was pushed off the back of my head. I couldn't even find an air pocket between the sections of raft. I gave up a bit and started counting blows. I figured this was it and it was kind of relaxing. Then, someone grabbed my life jacket and pulled me out. The guide who did it said that he had been thrown out and when we got to the bottom of the rapid, he saw someone still under. He came under after me. I was actually one of the first pulled into the boat after it was flipped back, but several people had been able to hold onto the sides. I just laid there shocky and vomited up half the Zambezi because I think that's how much I swallowed. It was probably only a few seconds, but felt like minutes. Power paddler had been thrown far from the boat and we had to go back for her. As they pulled people in, they pulled them over me. I was no help and couldn't get out of the way. Suddenly, it became less fun. I was reminded what I had been told before after I enjoyed my swim ... not every swim is a good swim. I just wanted to be done. Eventually I paddled again, but I didn't have as much heart. As we came to Oblivion, I remembered yesterday. I asked for the safety boat. Loaded with heavy gear, and with extra steel casing, it was nearly unflippable. Power Paddler hurt her hand in the flip and couldn't grip her paddle. She rode with me. Female Cop paddled in front of Diego's boat. Never done Class V and it was her and porters and guides. No one flipped that day. Everyone made it. She felt invincible and I was a little jealous that maybe, I should have gutted it out. Coward. As we neared camp, Musician worried. There was Female Cop carrying my gear and I wasn't in the raft. He had a moment or so of panic until he saw me in safety. I was zombie-like and went straight to my pup tent and had a good cry. I wasn't sure I had another rafting day in me. And, I'm not convinced I want to do Class V again. But, who knows. I may forget or may get my courage or may feel I just need to overcome it.

Day 3 of paddling began. I was offered the opportunity to just ride, but I decided I needed to move forward. Riding is really no safer than paddling, right? Today, we had to load up all of our gear in big camp gear boats. We had several smaller rapids to go through until we came to Upper Moemba Falls. Thank goodness I didn't see this BEFORE we went through. The only command from Diego was "get down" and we did. we held on for dear life as we were totally submerged in a wave. Really, my eyes were open and the water was over the top. We watched the other boats come behind us and watched them disappear under the wave. The heavy gear boat looked like it was never coming up.

we had to portage Lower Moemba Falls and that was impressive. Seeing porters empty the gear and haul the boats up and over a cliff edge and drop it slowly into churning water and then re-load the gear, and us, and off we went. It is indescribable.

This portion of the river is rarely rafted by tours and rarely seen. I understand why, but it was totally worth it. Just a few more smallish rapids and we set up camp on a lovely soft sandy beach. We sang and laughed by the campfire. There was a wildfire on another ridge and we watched it spread. It was beautiful to see in the dark, but felt so tragic for the wildlife living there. No population, so the government just lets it burn.

OK ... you may want to skip a few lines if you don't want TMI ... but, I'm all about full disclosure. Something happened in the middle of the night. That Zambezi river I swallowed ... well, it came at me with a vengeance. We had been drinking plenty of bottled water, so it had to be the river. I was flat out sick. Next morning, I could barely stand. I started my antibiotics and lomotil. I laid in the shade while people bustled around me to break camp. I sat like a lump in the raft while we did the last hour of paddling. There was only one rapid and I barely noticed. When we got to the take-out point, I made an offer. The porters could put me on a backboard and 2 of them could carry me out. I asked how far was the walk. Oh ... 45 minutes. It's not hard. Not steep like a few days before. I had pride and didn't feel I could be carried like Cleopatra. I declined. I started the climb ahead of everyone else to get more time. People came up. Walked with me a bit, and then I had to rest ... a lot, and they moved along. Except Diego and a local guide Lovemore (and the Musician). That was the longest hardest hottest 45-minute hike of my life. I think it took me twice that time. The porters ran up and down carrying rafts and gear. I thought that they may have preferred to carry me. Between two porters, I probably weighed less than some of what they carried. We walked past some still burning embers that we had seen the night before.

When I made it to the top, I almost cried with relief. We loaded into jeeps and back through small towns and villages. I had brought some coloring books and crayons and a few shirts to give away. We gave some on a roadside and some at a school. It wasn't enough. Not nearly enough.