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Published: June 10th 2008
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This trip in many ways mirrors one of our other great weekend trips taken this year. It was in the Pyrenees, we drove there in a rented Peugot, and once again we were lucky enough to be along for the ride on another great trip fully planned by our friends Nadine and Aaron. They are trip-planning wizards and nice enough to welcome last minute tag alongs. So when Nadine planned an adventure trip to the small town of Sort next to the Noguera Pallaresa river for Aaron's 30th birhtday, we were glad to join.
Once again we left straight from work on Friday, but this time managed not to get lost on the trip there. We arrived in time for supper at a cheesy Hard Rock Cafe knockoff restaurant (with good food, actually) and a early night to bed in our bunks at our hostel, shared by a group of Spanish school kids on an excursion. It felt like camp. I like camp.
The next morning the action began. We were booked to whitewater raft down the river, which was nicely swelled from three weeks of unusual May rain (usually it is already pretty hot and dry by then).
Our guide was a dread-headed French Canadian who spoke English with an Aussie accent from years spent rafting there, who assured us that being thrown out of the raft and tossed about in the rapids would be fun and safe, but was avoidable as long as we did everything he said. Seeing that we had a motely crew of Italians, Canadians, and Spaniards in the same raft it didn't seem likely that we would be able to, but we fared quite well. The rapids were great. It was cold and wet and wild and everything we hoped it would be. The only close call was a particularily large wave that knocked me back in my seat a bit, but not quite out of the raft. Which is too bad as I secretly wanted to see what would happen if I fell out.
Our afternoon plan was, at first, a bit of a mystery to me. I knew we were going canyoning, but I didn't really know what canyoning was. After changing into a slight variation of our morning wetsuits, we were ready to drive up a nearby mountain then hike a short distance to the mouth of the winding
little waterfall that we were to decend. This was explained to us by our German, newly minted guide on the first day of his official guiding experience. The first clue about the real nature of the activity should have been the fact that many of the suits and gear had rips and tears in them, unlike our rafting gear. We dismissed this. Our guide, Ragnar (we actually don't remember his name but we chose this one because it suited him) explained to us that our trip down would take 45 minutes and would be 80 percent walking through gently moving water. He showed us how to repel, how to cross our arms to slide down the natural rock slides, and how to hike down holding a rope. He did not tell us what to do should we be swept away by a tumult of rushing water. In retrospect he probably should have.
Our hike down ended up taking over two hours and was by far one of the more exciting things I have done. It quickly became obvious that the water level and intensity was not anticipated by anyone in our group, including Ragnar and the other Spanish-speaking guide.
It also quickly became obvious that I was born to throw myself down waterfalls. And that some other people might not be. After a few slides into freezing cold pools of water deeper than our heads, and a few scrambles down slippery rocks, Ragnar decided that our friend Nadine would be best situated directly behind him, where he could make sure that she was in control. Nadine, being smaller (thus more easily moved by the water) and more cautious than some, agreed to this...leading to a very close call. Ragnar slid/hiked down from our secure spot in one pool to a jutting-out rock just before another sharp drop and told Nadine to make her way to him. The water quickly caught her and swooshed her down and nearly past the rock - barely within reach of Ragnar who grabbed her arm by one hand and slowly pulled her up onto the rock. If he hadn't I'm not sure what would have happened. Thank goodness for his big strong German muscles and quick reflexes. He then decided that it was best that the rest of us descend that particular stretch with the added help of a secure rope. Nadine decided to
allow me to follow behind Ragnar and we made the rest of the hike down with only a few small injuries. I earned the nickname "valiente," was called "loco" more than once and have now decided that I must go canyoning again. Shortly before the end of the planned route Ragnar decided that it would be best to leave the falls and hike down on terra firma, as the last bit of decent was a bit too risky. He did allow Kris, one of the larger Spaniards, and me to continue with the Spanish guide. The last task was to repel down a steep stretch with a waterfall rushing down on our heads. My arm got tangled in the rope and I had a few moments of struggle and Kris wound up with a ropeburn on his neck that looked remarkably like a hickey, but we did it! We bought some beer and cava (Spanish sparkling wine) for the evening and relaxed through dinner, some rounds of ping pong and Aaron's traditional birthday cigar.
Day two flew by as well. In the morning we went hydrospeeding down the same lovely river. This was also a new experience for us,
and after our canyoning experience we were a bit wary of the guides who told us that it was very safe to jump into the rapids with glorified paddleboards and trust them to keep us away from the rocks. However with three experienced guides in kayaks keeping us on track and a third variation of wetsuit with appropriate padding, the experience was fun and not too scary. At one point I got stuck in a rapid with water rushing past me while I somehow stood still. I was able to kick myself free and join the current again. Very fun.
And just so not to waste any part of the day, we then drove a short distance to the nearby Parc Nacional just outside the town of Espot. We had heard rumours of a frozen lake at the top of a not-too-hard trail. It was certainly cold and a bit rainy at the top, but the lake was not frozen. With two days of packed-in adventures it was not a large disappointment. We started for home with plenty of time to return our car and maybe even unpack before heading to bed and starting another long week of teaching.
Except we got lost. Not too lost, but enough to add some time to our trip. It still would not have been a problem. Except that there was a gigantic very sudden thunderstorm complete with sheet lightning and hail. After creeping along past numerous cars stopped under bridges nothing at all could have gotten us back to Valencia in time to return our car at 11:00 pm before the company closed. Except Nadine. That girl can drive. Fast. We made it with 3 minutes to spare, completed our weekend of close calls, vowed to do it again next year and collapsed into bed tired and happy and fully addicted to adventure sports. What a rush.
By: Dennie
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Al
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THAT. Sounds. AWESOME! I like the adventure sports. Keep it up.