Published
The helicopter ride to a luxury resort was undeniably sweet. But for Peter Heller, the greatest thing about New Zealand’s South Island was kayaking down a surly river with an old paddling buddy, in a country that’s still unbelievably pristine.
If you decide to drop out and start surfing full-time, there's no place like Mexico's Pacific coast. When Peter Heller heads south and signs on with a tough-as-nails board guru, he discovers a wave-riding scene of world-class barrels, hard-grooving kids, and guardian angels.
After a decade of failed attempts and fatal rebuffs, an ϳԹ-sponsored expedition runs Tibet's Upper Tsanpgo Gorge—and lives to tell about it.
It's the cradle of Shangri-la, and one of the deepest river gorges on earth. It's a fortress guarding sacred waterfalls, and a cauldron of savage whitewater and unrunnable rapids. In the chill of the Himalayan winter, seven world-class kayakers led a massive expedition into the shadowy realm of Tibet's Tsangpo River , and launched their boats down its roaring t
He grew up poaching alligators, he sells Cadillacs, and his friends run oil companies. But saving the bayous of Louisiana's Atchafalaya Basin is Harold Schoeffler's number-one deal.
After a decade of failed attempts and fatal rebuffs, an ϳԹ-sponsored expedition runs Tibet's Upper Tsanpgo Gorge—and lives to tell about it.
Somewhere at the bottom of the deepest canyon on earth flows the Cotahuasi—a long, roiling ribbon of whitewater, a river so old and dangerous that you never master it, you just surrender to it. And pay respect to its ghosts.
Any time now, the world's last Communist stronghold will be open for adventure. But for an overzealous kayaker, that's way too long to wait.
North of Havana is a fantasy world of mangrove-lined cays and green water flashing with tropical fish—perfect sea-kayaking country. But the line between what's permissible and what's not in Castro's kingdom falls in a gray area, and comings and goings by water always mean trouble.
North of Havana is a fantasy world of mangrove-lined cays and green water flashing with tropical fish—perfect sea-kayaking country. But the line between what's permissible and what's not in Castro's kingdom falls in a gray area, and comings and goings by water always mean trouble.