Lhasa, Tibet – After three flights we have finally made it to Lhasa, Tibet. We managed to check in 14 kayaks and 26 bags weighing 30 kilograms each all the way through with very few problems. From San Francisco, Cathay Pacific styled us all the way to Chengdu, a huge industrial city in western China. One night in a hotel to rest, then load up an Airbus for the mountain flight to Lhasa. This proved to be a spectacular flight as we crossed huge valleys of the Mekong, Yangtze, and Yellow Rivers.

Chengdu, Tibet

Spotting the boats being unloaded in Chengdu, always a good sign

Potala palace, Lhasa, Tibet

Lhasa’s sacred Potala palace

Our GPS devices told us where the Tsangpo Gorge was laying as we had entered the longitudes and latitudes from the Space Imaging Software. We hoped for a view of the peaks of Namcha Barwa or Gyala Pelri but the cloud cover was thick in that area. We where flying just 50 miles north of the gorge the only things we could see were huge plums of cloud rising around where we guessed the peaks were laying. The occasional glimpses of a high ridge made the heart pump as it was obviously towering above the surrounding landscape by a long way.


As we approached the dry Tibetan Plateau the clouds subsided, in the distance we could see the peaks of Bhutan and Sikkim, and then Kachenjunga. In the far distance we cold see the main Himalayan range with the pyramid of Everest slightly visible above the snow-capped peaks. The Tsangpo valley spread out over the plateau below, our first view of the mighty Yarlung Tsangpo. Thousands of feet below us the valley was wide and flat, the river wound between vast sandy islands deposited from past floods. There was mixed reaction from our group—the river was definitely green, slightly glacial blue which could mean it was at a low level. But in a few sections there seemed to be quite a substantial flow with small wave trains clearly visible. This was discouraging as we were at 36,000 feet and the villages surrounding the river were mere dots along a fine line that would be the road to Pe (our planned starting point).


Not even 300 miles from Rainbow falls we landed at Lhasa Airport (11,730 feet) on the right bank of the Tsangpo River. Our journey would continue for two hours by road up to Lhasa city to the north. This meant we would be crossing the full flow of the Yarlung Tsangpo and estimates of river flow could be made. Here the river is wide and braided; the flood plain in places is several kilometers wide, which make estimating river volume incredibly hard, if not impossible.


At the crossing bridge the river was whole, a single channel. This time things were encouraging: The water was blue, slightly milky, which showed us the snow melt had not started—this was just a residual low from the thousands of glaciers in the 700 miles the river had flowed thus far. Continuing our journey to Lhasa, a figure of 7,000 to 8000 cfs seemed like a good figure, which, although by no way a small amount of water, is according to our Tibetan guides the lowest the river ever flows.

The post Tsangpo Dispatch—January 23, 2002 appeared first on ºÚÁϳԹÏÍø Online.

Pelung, Tibet We have made it to Pelung. Two days of hiking, two cable crossings, and two bridges after leaving Tsachu, we are at a road. There are vehicles, houses, and people. The small shops carry beer, candy, biscuits, and Coke. The guys are sinking beer like it has gone out of fashion.

Mount Abu Lashu, Tsangpo River

Mount Abu Lashu at the northernmost point of the Yarlung Tsangpo River, the terminus of the team’s paddling journey.

It has been 33 days since we first put on the river—over a month in Tsangpo Gorge and we have been more than 100 percent successful in our aims. We paddled all of the realistically paddleable whitewater in the upper and lower sections of the river and we safely made our way through the gorge. Our ground team made their way to the legendary waterfalls the inner gorge and observed an area rarely viewed by any man.


I am completely exhausted. Scott Lindgren, Mike Abbott, Ken Storm, and I sit in a small fire-heated back room, sipping beer. We have been running over the stories that jump to mind and contemplating the journey as a whole. Smiles reach from ear to ear and I think everyone is in shock, actually realizing that that is it—no more hiking, beating the trail through thick uncut forest. No more portaging. And unfortunately, no more incredible whitewater.


The Sherpas are as happy and smiley as they have been the entire trip. When we ask them about the expedition, they try to explain that it has been harder than some of the Everest treks they’ve done. While there was no serious altitude to deal with, the continuous climbing and descending and having to cut the trail with no obvious way to follow proved incredibly taxing. Yet they are intuitive and in-tune with the environment around them—they would find the way easier than the locals and would always reach camps in front of everyone.


We are only two days drive from Lhasa. Once the Avalanches arrive, we will head over a pass to Bayi, the town from which we headed to the put-in point all that time ago.


Things are coming full circle and it remains a wonder to me that we have had no serious injuries given we started down the gorge with over 80 people and still had 30 or so porters on the last days. No one fell off any of the precarious trails, and on the river there have been very few occasions where we were out of control or had potential disasters. This is due to an awesome show of teamwork and understanding. Granted there have been continuous communication problems and a cultural gap with the porters and locals we have encountered, but that is a huge part of the trip itself. Many of us have been traveling in Himalayan regions for a number of years and I think I can say that this area of Pemako has brought new experiences for everyone.


I now look forward to reaching Lhasa, finishing up loose ends, and making our way back to the USA. The journey has been recorded from every angle and the difficult job of editing and portraying accurately the real adventure will continue. But I cannot wait to get my film developed, see the video footage, and sit in a bar telling wild stories of this incredible place.

The post Tsangpo Dispatch—March 7, 2002 appeared first on ºÚÁϳԹÏÍø Online.

Tsachu, Po Tsangpo River Today is a reunion day. We kayakers had been impatiently awaiting a scheduled sat-phone voicemail message from Ken Storm and the crew that trekked to Hidden and Rainbow Falls after the hellish portage. Likely due to the weather and depth of the inner gorge, they had not been able to leave a message. We grew slightly uneasy, as it would be incredibly hard to send help if they ran into trouble as they had almost all the locals who know the area with them. We checked the voicemail every hour until finally there was a faint message from Dustin Lingdren—he sounded tired but explained that they had returned to Payi and were heading to Tsachu.

Rainbow Falls, Tsangpo River

A river runs through it: Rainbow Falls viewed from downstream. Team member Andrew Sheppard was able to make the perilous traverse over and down to the very edge of the storied cascade.

For the rest of the day the kayakers sorted gear and excitedly awaited the return of the waterfall hunters. At about 4 P.M., a great “whoop” was heard from Johnny, who was taking photos down on the ridge. Soon after a bedraggled and weak Andrew Sheppard dragged himself into camp. The leader of the mountain sections and by far the strongest of the ground team was suffering from slight gut problems and looked tired and far skinnier than when we last saw him. But he was glowing. He gave a rapid brief of the past few days of adventure, explaining how they had pushed through fresh snow over the Sechen La and dropped into the inner gorge, then descended to Hidden and Rainbow Falls. Andrew had been able to rappel to the very lip of Hidden Falls, and traversed up to Rainbow Falls, walking all the way out to its brink. The team had photographed and filmed the entire trip and had re-measured the falls with Ken Storm’s laser range finding equipment. At the low water level, they were indeed higher than previously recorded: Rainbow Falls stood at 78 feet and Hidden Falls 108 feet in its staggered drop.


One by one the team reached camp. Each man offered his own tales and each was handed a fresh beer and a chocolate bar. Ken was suffering. He has been into the gorge now six times and I think he might be happy to call this trip his last. Then again, give him a few months off, and I bet it wouldn’t be hard to convince him to come again!


So we are all together again in the village of Tsachu. The river journey is complete, the waterfalls of the inner gorge have been reached, and everyone is safe and sound.


We have achieved far more than I think any of us had hoped for, and all the way the gorge has been opening up to us and closing behind as we passed. The river was as low as it gets and provided us banks allowing passage through many of the terminal, walled-in sections we thought we would have to hike around. The weather has been finer than any records we’ve seen. And we crossed over the 12,000-foot-plus pass on the critical and punishing four-day portage just before weather set in and closed it.


We are now just two days of hiking along the Po Tsangpo from the road and town of Pelung.

The post Tsangpo Dispatch—March 4, 2002 appeared first on ºÚÁϳԹÏÍø Online.

Apex of the Tsangpo Gorge We have just finished a two-day paddle down the Po Tsangpo to the confluence and around to the northernmost point of the Great Bend of the Yarlung Tsangpo River, the apex of the Tsangpo Gorge.

Scott Lingdren, Tsangpo River

In his element: expedition leader Scott Lingdren in action on the Tsangpo

After much discussion we’ve decided to finish our river journey here. We will now hike back to Tsachu and then continue the trek up the Po Tsangpo to Pelung and rendezvous with our transport team to drive to Lhasa.


The Po Tsangpo was amazing—continuous whitewater all the way to the confluence. Again, this section has been stripped of its original features by a massive glacial lake flood. Its polished banks are strewn with debris from landslides and flood deposits. Compared to the Tsangpo it was refreshing and relatively small—although still around 5-6000 cfs. We felt strong as we could cross the river easily and read and run most rapids knowing we could move around or make it to the bank without too much trouble.


At the confluence we found the most amazing river camp of the entire trip right on the finger of land that divides the Yarlung and Po Tsangpo. Vertical walls of bedrock containing flats of pristine white sand. Our evening there was long and spiritual, looking back at the days in the gorge before and realizing the power of the environment we were in. Everyone contemplated the achievement and the meaning of our journey thus far; our discussions went on late into the night, warmed by a comforting fire.


On our last day of paddling on the Tsangpo the morning presented the confluence rapids, which have also been completely blown away. Once in the full flow of both rivers we were reminded how small we really are and just how powerful the Tsangpo is.


The rapids on this section were not as technical as the upper gorge as the midstream features have been flushed away, but the waves and holes were incredibly powerful, towering above us and tossing us around at their will. Again it was difficult to move around and even the easiest rapids needed to be bank-scouted to avoid being washed into a gigantic hole or crease.


We paddled past the cable we had crossed a few days ago and headed for the apex, the walls were closing in and Mount Abu Lashu towered on the right bank.


We paddled into an eddy on the left bank where our porters awaited excitedly. We are standing at the northernmost point of the Great Bend, the apex of the Tsangpo Gorge. Mighty Mount Abu Lashu stands to the south and a seemingly impassible river gorge flows downstream.

The post Tsangpo Dispatch—March 2, 2002 appeared first on ºÚÁϳԹÏÍø Online.

Bayi, Tibet – Today was the first day of movement towards the gorge since arriving in Lhasa. Extreme weather conditions have delayed the arrival of the last and crucial team member, Rob Hind for five days, resulting in us having an interesting seven days exploring the monasteries and narrow streets of old Lhasa.

Mount Milha Pass, Tibet

Gorge bound: up and over Mount Milha Pass

Lhasa River, Tibet

Lhasa River upstream of Lhasa

We finally left Lhasa aiming to reach the small village of Bayi, this trip would take us 195 miles and over Mount Milha Pass.


The river upstream of Lhasa became more frozen as we climbed towards the pass, eventually turning to a collection of frozen streams emerging from the arid landscape. The land here is dry, hardly vegetated, and incredibly cold, but still we drove past shepherds with herds of sheep, cows and ‘zows’ (yak-like crossbreed).


Around one corner approaching 15,000 feet, we had to dodge several monks who were busy prostrating down the main road on their way to Lhasa. Standing up, reaching high, then reaching down and sliding forward on wooden mittens until flat on the road. They would then walk their feet forward, stand up and repeat the action, each time moving only a few meters towards their destination.


At the Pass we were all breathless—at over 16000 feet we were all struggling to move with much speed, this will hopefully be the highest we will travel during the trip and everything should be downhill from here, in a manor of speaking.


On the descent we were presented with rugged snow-capped mountains in the distance, but Scott and Charley assured us that when they were there in May 1998 it had been hard to cross the pass and the surrounding land was laying under several feet of snow. As it was there was no snow on the pass and conditions were looking good.


The Gyamda River that gathered on the descent had been described as a great class-IV rafting trip with some class-V, running at around 5,000 cfs, but we drove past a dry and frozen river bed; collected waters were estimated at around 1,200 cfs. This was very exciting as this is the last major tributary of the Yarlung Tsangpo until the Po Tsangpo enters the gorge at Gompo Ne.


One hundred ninety-five miles miles and seven hours later, we drove into the village of Bayi, but we were in for a major surprise. From a distance we could see there were high-rise buildings in the area, but we were blown away as we entered the ‘city’ of Bayi. A four-lane street led around modern city blocks, high-rise glass-shrouded buildings, and extravagant city monuments until we pulled up outside a multi-story hotel. This was not quite what anyone had anticipated!


I had expected to be camping tonight! Scott described Bayi in 1998 as having a dirt road through its center, no hotels or office blocks and generality not being a very inviting place to stay. Ken Storm said that in 1993, Bayi did not really exist but was a collection of houses around a junction. Now it appears China has chosen Bayi as a key location for a new city, the buildings have appeared in the past three years and are quite empty. But things are obviously moving fast and this colorful town will surely be an alpine resort of the future, surrounded by massive mountains and pine forest.


Slightly discouraging though, Bayi stands at around 10,000 feet, and although the solid snow line is probably around 12,000 to13,000 feet it is snowing in town right now!


Tomorrow we finish our journey to Pe and the reality of the Tsangpo Gorge begins. Hopefully the morning will be bluebird and the snow line will be nice and high!

The post Tsangpo Dispatch—January 30, 2002 appeared first on ºÚÁϳԹÏÍø Online.

Tsachu, Po Tsangpo River We have made it to Tsachu, a small village that overlooks the apex of the Great Bend of the Tsangpo, sacred Mount Abu Lashu, and both the Yarlung and Po Tsangpo Rivers.

Tsangpo River

Willy Kern, Allan Ellard and Scott Lindgren watch the rest of the team enter a rapid

Our day started with a sketchy cable crossing where we expected to find a bridge crossing!


As we came over from Payi it was clear to us that our satellite photos of the gorge were taken prior to a major GLOF (glacial lake outburst flood). The riverbed is now completely different and the bridge has been washed away. The riverbank has been stripped of vegetation and loose rock, and left bare and sheer-sided with the same characteristics we observed at Payi. Landslides lay above the bedrock where dense forest used to hang—it is amazing to see the devastation caused by the GLOF!


The technique for crossing the cable was rather exciting, involving a pulley made from a car bearing and a length of sketchy rope. After the crossing we ascended on foot to Tsachu and set base camp for the next few days.


On our assent we could see downstream past the apex of the bend. The walls of the gorge continued to be sheer and flushed of any midstream rock features. This means there is only a two-mile section we have not seen between Tsachu and Payi, but we are not sure what we would find there as our satellite photos are now irrelevant.


We have two options: We can spend another week or more scouting the gorge below the apex, or we car paddle to the apex and finish our river journey there, happy that we have completed everything realistically possible.


The river in the lower gorge is truly wilder than anything we’ve seen so far due to the devastation from the GLOF. Even if we could paddle the unknown section, we would have serious problems taking out of the gorge before the Payi section and its wall-to-wall falls.

The post Tsangpo Dispatch—February 28, 2002 appeared first on ºÚÁϳԹÏÍø Online.

We have finally made the climb out from the upper gorge—but instead of reaching Payi and heading to the Po Tsangpo confluence, we have descended to the village of Gobden and Luku. This is actually our planed take out point, but we were forced to come here due to the snow conditions between Clear Creek and Senchen La Pass. We had hoped to traverse along the top of the pass and then drop down to Rainbow and Hidden Falls. Now it seem unlikely that the kayakers will not get to go to Hidden Falls as our location adds two to three days extra trekking to the journey.


Instead we will now trek up and over to Payi, then split the group. The kayakers will head to the confluence with the Po Tsangpo and finish the whitewater descent. Ken Storm and a few others will head toward the inner gorge and explore several uncharted waterfalls that are visible on our satellite photos.


The trek over the mountains has been a long and testing one. Each kayaker carried his own boat up and over the 12,400-foot pass from around 7,200 feet. (The pass was almost 1,000 feet higher than we had expected.) This took four days and we are all hurting and having a rest day as I type. The trail from Clear Creek was tough, passing and traversing forest, until we broke the tree line and hit snow. We camped at the base of a snow gully that would be our route to the top of the pass. The ascent of the snow gully proved to be exciting and dangerous as the snow softened in the morning sun of the 18th. Andrew Sheppard broke trail, cutting snow steps to aid our ascent. Incredible views of Gyala Pelri and the flanks of Namcha Barwa were all around us as we crept up the steep snow. Amazingly no one had a serious fall, and all porters made it to the top. The kayakers were definitely wondering what the hell they were doing with kayaks on their backs at that altitude!


At the top, the porters stated that they wanted to head to Luku, not Payi, as the snow conditions were too dangerous to traverse to the Senchen La. After much discussion we started our descent to the Luku Valley. The trail started in a snow bowl, where the kayakers used their boats as sleds and the porters towed their loads in the virgin snow. Very soon we were back at tree line and stuck in a narrow gully. The snow had made things easy to a point but it was getting dangerous.


We camped not far below the snow line and rested. The next two days were total hell but character building. The trail passed through thick forest in an area that is not used too often. Every kayaker had a different system for carrying his boat, but a mix was needed to get through the forest. Sometimes the shoulder carry would be the way to go, other times the boat would have to be dragged or lowered down steep inclines. It was personally the hardest thing I have ever done—at times I was contemplating ditching the boat and exploring the waterfalls with Ken. But to have brought the boats this far into the trip…the thought of abandoning them was sickening and gave us the determination to push through.


Now we are in Gobden and working out the porter situation for the next leg of the journey. We have to trek over another 10,000-foot pass to get to Payi, then have a few days to get to the Po Tsangpo Confluence and finish our descent.


One good thing will come from passing through Luku: We should get a view of the major rapids on the way up, which will greatly aid our descent in the next week or so. We are now in the Pemako region and things are definitely different. It is a lot damper and the people are different in appearance, this is truly a journey of discovery in a rugged land.

The post Tsangpo Dispatch—February 21, 2002 appeared first on ºÚÁϳԹÏÍø Online.

Gyala, Tsangpo Gorge—We have been on the river now for four days and many things have happened. For one, we have realized just how small we are. Since reaching the end of the road, we have hired 68 porters that have carried all our equipment from camp to camp. This had been relatively easy until today. From Camp 3 to Camp 4, the trail rose about 2,300 feet above river level before coming back again—this took the sturdy porters a solid day to complete. For the river crew it was total opposite. We only had to paddle one rapid and round the corner; our total distance was only two miles and it only took us half an hour. This was a great rest as we had a full on first day.

Tsangpo River

Sherab and his friend, Dawa, two of the porter guides. Sherab was with Ken Storm on his 1993 trip to the Tsangpo Gorge.

The river is incredibly powerful, but as we expected also very low compared to its normal flows. This still leaves it running at around 15,000 cfs. The first day we completed 11 rapids, some of which were huge and we were forced to sneak by the main flow close to the bank. Even these routes were pushy and all of us were exhausted at the end of the day.


The trail crew also has been having quite a time as they pass through the country by foot. The people here are not accustomed to porter work, so hiring 68 of them was quite a mission. They have to carry enough food for themselves for a month and warm cloths for the cold nights. For the first three days they used ponies (two men to one pony). Now the trail is too rough for the ponies and they will have to continue on foot. Every day there are porter issues, usually based upon the weight they will carry, the distance they will be walking the next day, or camp sites. These are usually resolved by Dave Allardice over a meeting of head porters and a jar of local rice wine. They leave feeling good and a compromise is set.


Today we reached a major milestone in our journey. The mighty rapids below camp marks the gateway to the inner gorge and an entrance to the Pemakochung section of the river. The river drops 30 feet over a 200-meter section—some of the wildest whitewater we have ever seen. There are definitely lines down there, but there are also hotel-sized hydraulics waiting to take you to Nirvana in an instant.


Day five on the river will take us down to the rapids that took Doug Gordon from the world. We will pay our respects in a minute of silence at the rapid and hope to do him proud as we pass by.


Our progress has been remarkable due to low water level and dry winter conditions. There is so much riverbed to move around on and nearly always riverbank to climb around things if needed. Further down this will be far more important as the gorge walls pinch together and bedrock walls enclose the river. We will be camping just upstream of the deepest point of the gorge, the point directly below a hypothetical line between the peaks of Namcha Barwa and Gyala Pelri. Right now I would say morale is high. There have been no major setbacks, and on the river there have been no close calls or mishaps.


As the gorge intensifies, I don’t know how often we will be able to get things out, but I hope to write again when we reach the abandoned monastery of Pemakochung.

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