We just got back from a body-numbing trip, 4 days of kayaking in Nepal is sure to make most anybody a little sore! Our first day started out in the very mild water of the Phewa Tal, the lake that Pokhara is built around, where we practiced all the basic techniques… like getting the hell out of your kayak if you capsize, freak…err… not freaking out when you capsize, rolling, freak…err… not freaking out when you don’t make the roll for the 10th time and you’re STILL underwater, and for me, paddling like a mad man trying to control the uncontrollable motion of the kayak (a skill that I still have not mastered even after being exposed to the Seti River with grade 2-3 rapids).

The second and third day were a bit more challenging. Keeping balance was key, and was an exceptional skill once you had figured it out. Thankfully, the river was a tad more forgiving than I was imagining, since I had a forward motion and no longer needed to show the girls…err…girl my muscular biceps while attempting to thrust myself forward. I mean, my constant flailing of arms seemed to be more of a bird mating ritual than any productive forward movement.

After figuring out how to stay above water, we went to try some rolls which ultimately resulted in me popping myself out of my kayak ( a method not preferred in the middle of a river because it is a pain to get setup again ). Nervousness aside, I was starting to be a little more comfortable being capsized, at least as comfortable as you can be upside-down underwater! Oddly enough, the more it happened, the less the ‘freakout’ mode hit, and I was actually starting to make progress in learning the self-rescue techniques. The first day on the river was pretty exciting, and very exhausting so we were all welcoming camp as soon as we saw it. Each novice kayaker tried their roll skills again before we setup camp, had some dinner, drank 4 parts rum 1 part coke, and passed out as best we could in the intense heat of the night.

Exhausted, and slightly eaten alive, I started to wake up. My arms felt like jello. The second day on the river was sure to please as we were starting the first of many ‘rapids’. You know, the type that you see in a raft and figure ‘oh, I think I just crapped myself’. Well, in a kayak, those waves look awfully huge, and inevitably a novice kayaker, like myself, spent more time swimming than kayaking. At the end of the day, I threw in the towel, and as a good boyfriend, I left G fending for herself – and I escaped the last rapid by hopping in the gear raft. Our lead guide, Santosh, then held on to her kayak through some of the roughest rapids we’d seen (at least a class 3). G was slightly traumatized by the experience, so much so that she decided that enough was enough, and ‘tomorrow would be a raft day’…vengefully leaving her boyfriend to fend for the most tumultuous rapids of the trip. Joy.

So the next day, I held on for dear life as Santosh was shouting “yahoooooo!” while we were going through mile high waves at nosebleed speeds. My hands gripped the paddle as if there was no tomorrow, not knowing that the clutch position I held would render my fingers useless for multiple days to come.