A yellow pick up truck just dropped us off on the rocky
riverbeds of Rio Upano, just below the car bridge to Macas. The capital of the
province Moran- Santiago, Macas sits on the west side of the Amazon basin and
at the feet of the Andes Mountain range.
Tucker and Gonzo are two friendly guys from Montana, USA. Meeting
both of them in Ecuador a month ago we now plan to paddle the Rio Upano. The
goal is to paddle from the car bridge spanning the river in Macas to a unknown
landmark called the Puente (bridge) Yucuiantza some 80-90 km down river. Our
kayaks are loaded with overnighter gear and enough food to last us 4 days. The
hope is we enter the Namangosa Gorge on the third day to experience the “river
of the holy waterfalls.”
A few days before our launch, a Google session revealed an article proclaiming the Namangosa Gorge and the Upano one of the greatest overnight river trips in the world. The Rio Upano itself flows for hundreds of Kilometers deep into the jungles of Ecuador and Peru. Running steep and constantly replenishing from the many side creeks and cascading waterfalls entering the valley, the river is a significant tributary to the Amazon river.
With no trace of doubt, we enter the put-in day excited. We walk our heavy kayaks to the water and put on. The first couple kilometers reveal a very uninspiring valley. Then suddenly like an entrance to a park, the flora and fauna deepened and river suddenly becomes an almost magically beautiful jungle scene. Little huts where the local people lead simple and happy lives scatter the banks. The whitewater proves relatively easy but the waves big. Perfect to get used to our loaded kayaks. We pass a few bridges and slowly the jungle starts closing in from both sides. The walls get bigger and we paddle a few more gorges.
In the afternoon we find a great beach for camping. On a
small fire we cook noodles. Around 18.30 there is not much daylight left, the
rapid darkness brings the stars to life. While our day ends, the jungle is just
waking up. Its makes you aware that your not alone. With the hot temperatures
forcing us to sleep out of our sacks we sleep laying on their ground protected
by only our skins and bug repellent.
We pray only that the insects, snakes, mosquitoes’ and tarantula spiders
leave us alone. The night closes with the sights and the sounds of the jungle.
The next day a combination of morning sun and swarms of sand
flies wake us to the colors of the jungle. Inspired by the flies and their gringo
meals, we settle into our own breakfast and morning routine. It’s no long before we lazily, but with
efficiency, cram the kayaks with gear and continue down river.
The loaded boats feel less heavy today, maybe we are getting
used to them. Due to the many side
creeks the Upano continues to rise. And with the rivers growth so do the rapids
grow. We spend much of the morning enjoying endless wave trains. Soon however, the
water begins to darken. The now deep brown river also seems to be collecting
more and more driftwood. Uneasy, we check the current water level with some
fishermen on shore. They inform us that the river is indeed rising but still is
a low to medium level. Every river in this region comes out in Rio Upano, it has a huge drainage. For a river that runs on 20.000 cfs (cubic feet per
second) it’s quite hard to develop an eye for the constantly changing water levels.
This “roll of the dice” guessing on CFS is hard to swallow. Three days before,
our research of the gorge also found that a successfully run was only advisable
at low flows. So naturally a desire to know the unknown became a priority.
A bit later we
reach a beach where a crowed catches our attention. A group of locals have
gathered around a very colorful and long snake. The snake is hurled around the
circle with a stick like some sort of game. The kids jump up laughing just
before it lands on their feet. We reluctantly come closer but soon the 10–15
locals move their attention from snake to gringo. They begin asking us all
kinds of questions and show great interests in our kayaks. We ask a few kids if
they want to give the boats a whirl, they look at us with great fear and
respond with a quick “no gracias.” They explain the dangers that live in the
water and school us in the lore of the Anaconda. They explain that lurking in
Upano are the biggest snakes on earth.
In Tucker’s words, “Giant tubes of muscle.” In the local’s words, “Man
Eaters.” We didn’t want to know anymore and air on the side of ignorance. We
continue paddling and try to abandon our newly intensified Anaconda thoughts.
In the afternoon we arrive at a bridge called Patuca. This
is the last take out before entering the committing big volume class IV canyon:
The Namangosa Gorge. It’s late in the afternoon, the water is dark brown, the
sky is turning black, the water level will double immediately after the bridge
and we have no clue how to interpret water levels. We sleep first and tomorrow
decide to enter the gorge.
After a dry night, the river has dropped a few meters, we
put in at the Patuca Bridge to enjoy the big water fun in the canyon. Shortly
after shoving off we disappear into a massive canyon. Hugged on both sides by
400-meter high walls we play in the rivers massive wave trains. Paddling
through such an immense canyon intimidates yet astounds. Waterfalls pour into
the canyon, cascading and tumbling from the highest reaches of what the eye can
see. Colorful parrots fly out of the thick vegetation and soaring overhead. The
Upano holds an untouched ancient beauty.
We paddle deeper into the canyon. Less then an hour in we reach a boulder choked section and the beginning of the big rapids. The river disappears into multiple steep chutes and churns violently. A quick scout reveals a straight forward rapid, go for the thongs and avoid massive holes. The nature of the rapids stays consistent: house sized rocks choking the river, boat eating holes and swirly water. Frequently I see Tucker and Gonzo battling with the massive boils and eddy lines. These messes of water prove to be the Upano’s biggest challenge. The thought of being in this canyon with high water is a very scary one. We keep moving, paddle hard and anticipate the rivers movements. Ultimately, the Waltz with the Upano subdues all of us with joy.
After a couple of hours the river flattens out and slowly the
canyon opens. We float towards the take out at Puente Yucuiantza soaking up the
remaining bit of canyon. What a
great run, and as for a few spiders and sand fly bites we are very
thankful not to have met the great Anaconda.
Maud
Thanks to Tucker and Gonzo
Thanks to Tucker and Gonzo