Deep in the Himilayas. The Tsarap Chu

In Ladakh I had a lot of free time to reflect and write up missing blog posts. I m going to try and get them all up online over the next few days whilst I do anything to avoid doing uni work. Due to the short notice of this trip I had no camera. so a big thanks go out to George and Ben for supplying the shots for this post.

before leaving for this expedition, I had already said my goodbyes to India. I had settled into the idea of a couple more weeks safety boating the standard commercial day sections of the Zanskar and accepted that any exploring further afield would have to wait for my next visit. Besides, I had already experienced the Zanskar gorge, so I was very happy indeed.

With the Ladakh River Festival fast approaching more and more brits where landing in camp. All with ambitious plans to tick off challenging and iconic multi-day expeditions. I was sat at camp after a two-trip day talking to a German kayaker called ben. He had been in camp a couple of weeks and was a solid boater. He told me that he and George younger where planning on dropping into the Tsarap. a remote committing class 4/5 multiday starting high up in the Himalayas. The problem was that they were a group of 2 and ideally needed a 3rd member. would I join? the catch, they were leaving the next day and the bus to Leh would depart in 10 minutes. 10 minutes... that’s 10 minutes, to ask my boss for 4 days off starting immediately, then beg, borrow and steal the kit I needed and finally get it all loaded on to the roof of the waiting bus. As it happens I didn’t make it. the bus set off just as I was walking up behind it. A bit of shouting made him stop. thank god it wasn’t a public bus. Ben and I talked about the river all the way back to Leh, lack of phones meant George had no Idea that I was coming along. The last hurdle was whether George thought that I could handle it. Being the only person to have paddled the section before the decisions fell to him.  I was very much prepared to be told no because I had no delusions about what a mistake on this river could potentially mean. I hardly have the paddling CV necessary for this run and I was fully aware that I was the weak link in the team. Despite that I had 9 months experience paddling big volume rivers in India and 2 months training on the Zanskar at 3500m. My paddle fitness was the best that it had ever been and if I was not ready now, I never would be.

We arrived at Georges guest house and although he was slightly surprised at first, he was happy to have me on the team. It however came with a warning. Put simply, "You cannot swim." I was in, plans were made to go our separate ways that evening and the next morning we would meet early for breakfast, shop for supplies in Leh and then get a taxi to take us to the put in.

Before the meeting the next morning I had a mission of my own. Paddling in the Himalayas is tough on your gear and despite having my drysuit sent out to me a combination on the altitude, powerful sun and silty water had meant that it was well past retirement. Dave had promised to help me out if his new neck seal could be attached. It couldn’t. Now I had a problem, I was less than 24 hours away from setting off on a 250km expedition starting at 15000ft and I didn’t have anything to paddle in. Luckily, I met a group of boys from Aber Uni and Matt very graciously lent me his. All that was left was to drink a few beers and wait for the next day.

It turns out shopping for a Himalayan multi-day is a lot more straight forward than you would expect. Especially if you’re in a town as well equipped as Leh for dealing with the hordes of trekkers it encounters. Having stocked up on oats, Dahl, Rice, Masala mix, soy balls and granola bars it was time to head back to the guest house, pack our boats and load up our taxi. Our taxi driver Tashi was brilliant, the first Indian driver I have met that knows how to use a Cam strap. Pretty reassuring considering the state of the roads. We settled in for the rough 8-hour drive climbing over some of the world’s highest passes up to a Hight of 5600m. The condition of the road can be excused because the views are spectacular.

we arrived at the bottom of the Gata loop, a series of 12 hairpin bends descending steeply into the Tsarap valley. We set about unloading our boats eager to set up camp as the temperature difference at 4500m was considerably noticeable. After paying Tashi 8500inr (£100) he turned his Suzuki van around and set off back to Leh. 16 hours behind the wheel without rest... I’m glad I wasn’t in his car for the return journey. We carried our boats from the road down to a suitable camp spot overlooking the river. Moving loaded boats around at this height was physically hard work and everything needed to be done slowly to avoid fatigue. at this point the Tsarap is braided and flat, but George harboured doubts about the water levels. it was high.

I fell asleep early, exhausted by the journey and keen to start the next day’s adventures. Despite that I was woken up early. A full moon meant no blanket of stars tonight, instead we were exposed to its full day glow brightness, combining this with the freezing temperatures meant that I was hardly rested for the big day ahead.

The plan was to complete the 250km in an ambitious 3 days. Not impossible as George had proven the year before by completing the whole trip in just 21 hours. A feat I didn’t truly appreciate until the end of day 1.

Setting off from camp we had about an hour and a half of flat water to warm up and adjusted to our heavy kayaks. The first feature of the Tsarap is a series of 7 Box canyons. sheer sided cliffs constrict the river through narrow gaps. These canyons are hard to inspect and even harder to portage. Trusting your team and riding the whirlpools was the order of the morning. having successfully navigated the first two box canyons we arrived at canyon number 3. half way down we eddied out above an intimidating horizon line. By this point we were committed. No way out and no way to scout. George had told me about this point the night before. It had been on his mind for days. at normal levels this was a simple clean tongue. we knew the water level was higher, but by how much it was hard to tell. We were paddling in a hot summer with the biggest snowfall in 13 years. George paddled closer and closer to the lip before disappearing. Just before he vanished he signalled a right-hand line. a couple of seconds later he appeared in an eddy downstream with a grin on his face. I guess that means it’s good to go... Despite the initial doubts the drop was a nice easy slide and we quickly continued our way down the river knowing that we still had a long way to paddle if we planned on making it to Phuktal monastery that night.

before box 4 the river picked up in gradient and we got a taste of the good class 3/4 that was yet to come. Box four is an easy portage, both in the walk and the decision-making process. A manky syphon filled alley with no nice-looking lines at all. Portage over and a quick lunch we soon ticked off boxes five, six and seven getting a little longer and more interesting as they went. they whirlpools where bastards and I derived a weird kind of pleasure from seeing one of the other boys fighting with their grips.

Prior to 2014 I’m told that the river continued as nice continuous class 3 down to Phuktal monastery. However, since then a huge landslide has resulted in the creation of an 8km Long lake. Holding back millions of tonnes of water. It is reported that if this natural damn fails it will put thousands of lives at risk and even pose a threat to the large hydroplant on the river indus. As for myself, the lake was abit of a love hate relationship. 8km of flat water paddling in a fully loaded river boat is shit. Despite that, the most incredible natural phenomenon occurs. as the river goes from a powerful torrent to a placid lake all the sediment that gives the river its intimidating grey colour settles to the bottom and in the space of 100m the lake goes from grey to an incredible vivid Himalayan sky blue. I reached the end of the lake before ben and George and quickly scouted the two channels formed by the landslide. One side looked like it went at class 3 and the other a fun 4 but in the distance, I could see that the river disappeared around the corner in a mass of white. I arrived back at my boat just as the boys where climbing out to scout. I discussed lines with George and we both seemed to agree. I took the opportunity to take a nap whilst they re-confirmed. I woke up half an hour later very very confused... George had told me that ben had also taken the opportunity to take a nap and was stripped out of his gear fast asleep when George had found him. It was now 5:00pm and we still had a long way to go.

The crystal blue waters in the Tsarap chu - photo: George Younger

Landslide rapid looking upsteam - photo: George Younger

Landslide rapid looking downstream - photo: George Younger

By this point I had forgotten the line on the rapid and George told me that he had decided on a new one. I had just woken up and was about to drop into a big volume technical class 5 with a long class 4 run out and I was trusting mine and Georges ability to the fullest. The line was tight and involved first boofing a hole before skirting the next, surfing a cushion wave across the river before charging hard with a big boof in to the eddie. I arrived in the eddie with burning lungs, but I could not help but laugh. we broke back in to the run out and continued with big committing lines for another 200m down the river. I finished the rapid tired but elated. According to George we only had an hour to go until the monastery.

Enjoying a clean run - photo: George Younger

After two hours we arrived at an easy class 4 rapid just above the monastery. The line was easy but after 9 hours on the river we all dropped into a rather big hole. It flushed, but it showed that it was time to call it a day. With the fading light we set up camp on the beach in the shadow of the monastery. We found wood to build a nice fire and started the process of cooking the evening meal. Soup followed by rice and dahl. the soup was damned good. the dahl was not. Having already dropped a lot of height the temperature difference was noticeably warmer. We settled into our bags and we very quickly fell off to sleep.

Phuktal Monastery - photo: George Younger

The next morning, we made the short steep climb up to phucktal monastery. Incidentally our timing meant that we arrived as the mini monks (not sure if this is their technical name) where making their way to their morning lectures. Electricity only arrived here in 2016, Despite that the mini monks are not blind to the outside world and they certainly know what a kayak is and how to use one... The monks had a great time twisting and playing with my moustache and comparing me to lots of Indians that they had obviously seen on TV. the mini monks soon disappeared into their lessons and that was our cue to leave. We headed back down to the beach ready to tick off the rest of the Tsarap and arrive in Padum for lunch.

Mini Monks love red boats - photo: George Younger

The trek to school - photo: George Younger

- photo: George Younger

It was decided over soup the night before that instead of the originally planned 3 days, we were going to extend our time on the water to 4, less time with our heads down paddling and more time to experience this incredible unique landscape that we were in. This meant a re-supply in Padum at the half way point of the trip. We got back on the water and the morning provided a pleasant warm up. Easy Whitewater provided an excellent opportunity to fully appreciate the incredible remote landscape and isolated abandoned villages that we were paddling through. as more and more tributaries joined the Tsarap. The blue colour began to fade, and we were back to paddling on a huge torrent of powerful brown. This was the style of paddling that I had fallen in love with over the past 12 months. Before we could relax in Padum we still had to navigate the crux of the river. Reru falls and bastard bastard stood in our way of a clear run out to Padum. Scouting Reru took time. the line was hard, but it was clearly there. A challanging line with big consequences. By this point the portage wasn’t to complex but I would still have to run the lead out anyway... should I run it? I knew I could make the line so why not? It was incredible. Once again, we regrouped in the eddy downstream, shared tails of our adventures and misadventures on the rapid, smiled and laughed before continuing downstream. Having paddled the run out we stopped on a beach and sought shelter underneath an overhanging cliff. The rapid had taken it out of us all. A short rest and some snacks was well needed. Bastard bastard presented little challenge and from then on followed the best 20km of river that I have ever paddled. It was big, it was challenging, impossible to inspect and so so much fun. 20km of awesome read and run class 3/4. Plus, for those with the energy to spare some excellent surf to boot.

We arrived in Padum at around 2pm, we had already had lunch but that wasn’t going to stop us eating again. We stashed the boats in a bush and started the mile-long walk into Padum, we had not gotten far before a kind local offered us a ride. the first port of call in Padum was. the bakery. Hungry stomachs dictated the order and we ended up ordering one of everything. the bill came to 100inr (about £1.20) I had been told that one place in this small town served a mean egg and chips. However due to the impending arrival of some important Lama from Tibet, this was not possible today. I settled for a large portion of Ladakhi skew. Before leaving for our trip we joked about catching up with Horst on our trip. Horst set off 8 days before us but is famous for taking things slow and fully enjoying everything around him. Sure, enough in Padum we spotted a pale blonde gentleman carrying a watershed drybag... It could only be one person. We shared stories of our adventures up to that point over many a chai and it was soon dark before we started the walk back to tonight’s camp. It had been decided that ben would leave us the next day for a trip to explore the Doda river, the other main tributary of the Zanskar. Having now resupplied we ate even more before settling down for the night.

Padum luxury camp spot - photo: George Younger

We were camped on the western side of a wide valley that provided the luxury of early morning sunshine. something that we had done without up until now on the trip. This meant that this morning was an extra lazy one. Taking the opportunity to fully enjoy the warm weather before getting on the water. From this point on we would be continuing as a 2. The first 3 hours of the day was on relative flat water. rapids never exceeded class 1-2 but because of the volume we were very quickly carried along covering the 30kms with minimal effort and munching on carrots and other snacks along the way.

the cliffs on either side began to close in and very soon we were in the Zanskar proper. Rightly deserving of its title, the Grand Canyon of Asia. from this point on we were committed. no way out other than down. despite the Whitewater being less challenging and technical than the Tsarap the Zanskar still demanded respect. A cock up here would not go unpunished. As I write a road is currently being built through the centre of the Zanskar gorge providing Padum with year-round vehicle access. this construction work will not only destroy this remote and beautiful place, it has also already changed the river. Debris from road clearance work is being dumped into the river leading to the creation of new rapids. Every cloud has a silver lining. Time on the Zanskar is best spent looking up. The whirlpools and boils try there hardest to prevent that, but it would be so wrong to value this river on its quality of Whitewater alone. We had chosen our campsite in advance. A long distance from Padum but well worth it. The spot we had chosen was at the foot of a large waterfall that flowed straight out of the cliff some 15m above. Practically it was a shit place to camp. the ground was uneven, and it was perpetually raining. But when I get back, I will 100% be staying there again.

The Grand Canyon of Asia

The next morning after a breakfast of soy balls soaked in honey, salted peanuts and Pooh (puffed rice.) we hung some prayer flags on the waterfall. I was told carrying a small set in my BA would bring me luck on the river and that when I was safe I should find a place to hang them, as traditionally prayer flags should be hung somewhere that they can catch the wind. Despite that I’ve grown very much attached to the Idea of keeping them with me. Instead they will stay in my buoyancy aid and will bring me good luck on many adventures to come.

Today was to be our last day on the water, and very soon we arrived at the start of the commercial rafting section. no more meerkating, it was time to relax on familiar water and style lines that we knew like the back of our hands. we were out in the sunshine having fun and feeling good to have such an incredible adventure behind us. Two hours after Chilling we arrived at tsochti. From here it was an 8km float down river to Sangam, the confluence with the Indus and then onwards to camp. this last section was spent rafted up, legs out, lying back, not talking and taking time to reflect on an awesome trip. We arrived in camp in time for a late breakfast/ early lunch and to catch up with the guys on camp.

I found out that a group of boys where planning a trip to the lower Indus that afternoon to try out the race rapid for the Inaugural Ladakh river festival and to paddle the next 30km of Whitewater downstream. I was dog tired and achy, but I was aware that the next day it would be back to work. I couldn’t resist... What happened that afternoon is a story for another time, but it was big. about 5000 cumecs big and so much fun.