Rafting @ Rishikesh

Caught 22

Do you fear the force of the wind,
The slash of the rain?
Go face them and fight them,
Be savage again.
Go hungry and cold like the wolf,
Go wade like the crane:
The palms of your hands will thicken,
The skin of your cheek will tan,
You ’ll grow ragged and weary and swarthy,
But you ’ll walk like a man!
…Hamlin Garland

To see the challenge in its face and stare down its eyes; to strangle the fear inside oneself and rejoice to see it die; to let the raging fire within fight the force of water on one's skin; is not what the meek would do.
And for once, Hamlin Garland was proven wrong when even the ladies of our tribe braved the wind, the water, the sun and the sand to quell humanity’s biggest foe: FEAR.

21 was the number of enthusiasts who responded to Vineet’s post on the Bulletin Board. Last minute adjustments and a few replacements saw the number rising to 22.
“We will move from the office at 5:15” was the unequivocal instruction and most heartening was the fact that the first Scorpio did leave to pick the people up at 5:15 AM. The next meeting point was Tribune Chowk. From there on the three Scorpios moved on together but not before halting again at Fun Republic to pick Aseem, our very own infoscion-photographer.

At the Bridgeview Restaurant, the breakfast constituting the appetizing Aloo-Parathas along with Lassis which we had beyond our satiating limit, was probably just a harbinger of the good times to follow…
We stopped at Paonta Sahab Gurudwara to offer a few prayers before moving on.

Past the bumpy detour to Dehradun, and beyond the sinuous stretches of roads moving in harmony with the meandering river we found our destination. However, the conundrum of which side the river should move with respect to us after we have crossed a bridge, remained incomprehensible. Only later we realized that everything we would do in the following 24 hrs, defied logic.

Camp Rapid Fire was supposed to be our base camp. We parked the vehicles on the road above and began trekking along a tortuous and only-a-little-less-than-dangerous declivity. The mere thought of climbing it up the next day sent a few shivers down a few spines. Soon we were at the right bank of the river with just a canvas sheet protecting us from the blazing sun. Mugs of lemonade came as welcome relief to the sapped out souls.

We had a short homily from Praveen, the organizer cum facilitator cum host, on the expected behavior of the adventure-freaks. In the sweltering heat the crystal waters had looked too tempting to resist; may be, the instruction to not to venture into the waters without life-jackets, was deterring us.
But then the nature showed its most unpleasant face and suddenly everyone was up against a blitzkrieg of a sand-storm; in ten minutes, our luggage, our clothes, our hair and everything except our spirits was buried in the white sand; may be it was a message from the nature itself, invoking its explorers to fall in its lap and soon everyone, with or without the life-jacket, was splashing and wallowing in the waters. Amidst the sessions on Kayaking and bodysurfing and swimming classes that went like “Chhap Chhap Chhap 1… 2… 3”, we had our lunch and a game of volleyball as well.

After the tea, it was time now for the first big thing viz. Rock Climbing (Level 1). The first experience of how tough things look when we do it ourselves and how threatening, the small pebbles we walk on, look when u stand glued to a 30 ft. high wall, groping for a strong foothold and a reliable handgrip; The first experience of putting your trust in a pair of gloves and a rope while walking horizontally and backwards. But of all the people, Eshi was the one to have been betrayed by the harness and this was the first experience for everyone else to see someone climb up the rock again from midway and descend with the same harness.

As soon as this was over, the darkness had started engulfing the gorge and in no time there were torches galore, each one of them a beacon either guiding the fellow wanderers or just proclaiming their own presence and once in a while even to illuminate a face to recognize an otherwise looming shadow. With nothing much to do at this hour, and the darkness having congregated us in one place, we decided to regale ourselves with a few spooky stories. So we sat on the sand encircling two shimmering lanterns trying to narrate first, second and third hand experiences with the supernatural in the most plausible manner and the most credible words possible.

An absconding guide caused us to delay our night trek and the delay caused the trek to be curtailed, to avoid any discomfort to the expected barking deer. Nevertheless we decided to undertake this exercise as well. To miss anything was not what we were there for. We clambered through the terrace farms to reach the highway. A long walk on the highway and another descent on a pebble strewn path led us to a suspended bridge over the river. As we were asked to retreat and return from the bridge itself, we had to trot back all the way definitely feeling short-changed.

While we waited for the dinner to be served, Rahul, Harneet and Vaibhav broke into songs with Anant as the guitarist and everyone else in the chorus; from patriotic to vulgar to peppy, the concert continued even at the bon-fire.
The much awaited barbeque was replaced by a modest round of snacks.

It was already 1:30 am and people, anticipating a tough day ahead, had started departing. The densely spangled sky was in itself a treat for the eyes and some of us did spend some time admiring the heavens above before we all got snug as a bug in a rug…

“The sky limited by mountains on all sides gave me a feeling that it is my own small world that is very close to me …”-Gaurav Khera

The night was not very long and a few of us who chose to sleep outside their tents were woken up by the bright twilight as early as 6:00 am. The tranquility of the place, where a single pebble falling down the hill could be heard on the other side of the river and a single twitter of a bird was enough to wake the whole valley out of slumber, was hallucinating. Soon the whole camp was again alive with people all over trying to explore nature in their own way or just answering its call!

Aseem did not let go any opportunity to capture the best of the pictures of individuals, of groups and of the panoramic view of the base camp.

Having been served our breakfast we were all agog to take on our biggest challenge. So we packed up our things to leave the camp. Lumbering and trudging all along the nearly 30 degrees slope with our baggage on our shoulders, to reach the road above was in itself a taxing exercise.
Thereafter the Scorpio took us to the point where our tête-à-tête with the vivacious waves was supposed to begin. In no time, everyone was all decked up in a life-jacket and a helmet. While Harish, the guide, rattled off his pedantic preaching on Dos and Don’ts of rafting and methods of rescue, the folks on the receiving end had a few prayers going in their minds.

The inflated raft, with nine to ten people on it (including the guide), looked as vulnerable on the rocky rapids as a balloon would on a needle tip. Although, we were supposed to traverse downstream, the wind was in the opposite direction requiring us to row almost continuously throughout the 16 km stretch. With a few practice sessions on how to paddle the boat we advanced to the first rapid, “Return to Centre”. This was a level 2 rapid with an Eddy current at its other end. Even though it was not dangerous it had excited us enough to make us start communicating “Bismil ke Sandes” to other rafts as well. Much to the perplexity of non-infoscions, Harneet raised the slogan, “Agadumal Dagadumal Babey di…”. “… JAI”, resounded the infoscions in unison!!
The next rapid was the Roller-Coaster; indeed it was, in every sense of the word. The raft jumped and fell, the waves hit us hard and the exhilaration had just started to build up.

Tee-Up was next; a little more violent than the previous one, it was slated as somewhere between level 2 and 3 and as the name suggested it was just the perfect launch pad for the most inclement of them all…
The Golf Course, so called because of the nine “holes”, was no easy game. At danger level 3, it was a test of heart, brain, nerves and sinews. We had to break each advancing wave (or it would capsize the raft) and it required frantic paddling. Each colliding wave was a water-cannon and each crest and trough was a jolt in the limbs. Although the rapid was over, the exuberance was brimming. We all were high on the thrill and wanting for more. The prayers were answered…
At the next rapid, on the guide’s behest, we jumped out for body-surfing. With the waves tossing our bodies helter-skelter, we were like little babies in the arms of Mother Nature. By now, the fear of water had vanished and the rafters were now happy weltering in the midstream.

But there was another fear to squelch, the fear of height. So we embarked upon the raft to reach the 28 foot high cliff. The Flying Sikh, Harneet was the first to take the plunge in this task of Level 4.
From pulling in your deepest ever breath to putting your worst ever foot forward to step in the air, hoping Newton to be proven wrong, and to then fall endlessly to hit the water and then wait for Archimedes to be proven right, to breathing out the most important gallon of air of your life ever… The whole duration was hardly 10 seconds with every millisecond of it having its worth in gold. While Jyotsna, the only girl to take it up, made it in the third attempt, Nishant was unfortunate to have fallen flat on the chest after having backed off before.

Two more rapids later (one of them ironically named “initiation”) we would arrive at the culmination point. But something was still left in Nature’s scheme of things. Strong winds and heavy rains followed. Despite our lustiest efforts, the raft was not moving ahead. Probably we just did well to prevent us from being blown back all the way.
At the bank we changed our clothes, had our lunch but just before we left, the sandstorm that had greeted us at the camp, was there again to see us off.

The Scorpios moved out of Rishikesh and we stopped soon after for some dance and a photograph and then again at the same “Bridgeview Restaurant” for tea and snacks. The surprise package was boxes of strawberries bought from local cultivators.

All were dropped at their chosen spots and the most momentous weekend had been perpetuated in memory.
The next day was supposed to be the most unfair Monday ever!!