Paddling the Upper Chenab Photo by Trent Garnham

Not too far downstream we found a nice little beach and set about making home for the night. Judging from the map we guessed we were above another steep section so we took it easy and rested up for the anticipated gnarr the next day.

With the sun beaming we scoffed a big breakfast (trying to eat all the food to lighten the boats) loaded up and pushed off. We were straight into hard rapids, big boulders and super pushy water, which made staying on line in loaded boats hard work.

Things were getting harder and harder until eventually we got to a rapid with no real line and vertical rock both sides. I am not much of a climber but amazed myself at the tricky combo moves we managed to pull off with boats hanging off our shoulders above gnarly whitewater. A lot of cursing and nervous times and we all managed to make the tricky climb around the rapid and were able to seal launch in and go again.

Finally we made it to Gulag Garth, and spent some time cruising the markets stocking up for our next night of self-support. By now we were quite a distance into Kashmir and it was amazing to see how different the people in this state looked from their neighbors. I can't imagine what they thought of us!

"Allan described it later as 'monster hole, waiting for lunch!' Well I was lunch..."

Another early start and we waved goodbye to our new friends (minus our river knives and a few other shiny things that went missing during the night!) and got straight into it. According to our map we were in for more steep stuff so we were all psyched for a big day. The morning started with great read and run rapids, nice and wide with lots of options. All was going well and we found ourselves dropping blind into harder and harder stuff and working out the line as we went along. As we all dropped into one rapid with Benji leading I saw him frantically turn around and signal furiously before disappearing into the brink of something. I misread his signal of 'go right' as 'go hard' and before I knew it I saw a massive horizon line looming in front of me. With no time to avoid it I turned, put my boat on line and charged. I got a huge launch off the lip, but as I was falling I looked down in dismay at the pit I was dropping into to.

Allan described it later as "monster hole, waiting for lunch!" Well I was lunch as I stopped dead as I landed then went straight back in the pit, getting worked. I managed to roll up and stabilize myself and get a quick breath before the hole threw me somewhere else and it all started again. Again I rolled up just to see Mike come flying off the lip and land on top of me. By now I was stuffed and knew that my big retentive sausage creek boat was not coming out if there with me in it so I decided to pull the pin and save a little air for what could be the swim of my life. Fortunately it wasn't too bad and we managed to get my boat, gear and myself to the side of the river before the next rapid, a bit shaken but at least still in one piece!

Making it through the rest of the day we found a long beach to camp and cook, with a visit from a few 'locals' who were very interested in our gear. We settled in for a good night's sleep, conscious of the fact that we were now in a pretty full on militant zone. So far we had been OK and as we were usually way down on the river people hadn't taken too much notice of us. Hopefully it would stay that way.

We woke to find the camp filled with what seemed to be the whole village coming to say hi! So much for that theory! A few machine guns floating around kept everything in perspective and we were very polite hosts as we packed our gear, showing people how our equipment worked, posing for photos and all sorts before we quickly got into our boats and slid off downstream.

It turned out to be another big day with some really hard paddling mixed in with some even harder portages, dragging, carrying and sometimes throwing and cursing our boats as we hauled them over huge boulders. The boats loaded up felt like they weighed tons and our shoulders were raw and bruised from lugging them around. It seemed so frustrating at the time but then the river would mellow out for a bit and you would get the chance to think about the awesome lines and rapids you just ran and the beautiful surroundings, which would help keep it all in perspective.

With the daylight slowly fading and us still a few kms from our planned get out point for the day we found ourselves at the top of what looked like four or five staunch, committing rapids. Exhausted we stashed our boats on the riverbank and climbed the 700 feet out of the gorge to the road where, fortunately, Prakesh was able to meet us and take us into the town of Padyanha for the night where we found a place to crash and some food. I was absolutely wasted by now and I am eternally grateful to the villagers for their hospitality that night, awesome!

Stiff and sore we rose the next morning with what seemed like a cunning plan. We would climb back down to our boats, leaving our overnight gear with Prakesh and paddle the gnarly section we scouted from the road the night before with empty boats then meet up with him at a dam construction site further downstream where according to our source there was access for him to get down with the jeep. From there we would pick up our overnight gear and continue our way downstream, maybe making it to Kishtwar and the expedition finishing point that day. If not it wouldn't matter as we would be prepared. It sounded like a solid plan that couldn't go wrong.