As far as first descents go, this seemed perfect. A drone photo of a waterfall, taken by Jure Stan half an hour from his house, was shared in the group chat a week earlier. The consensus was positive: “That looks sick!” And with an extra 30 cubic metres of water going down it, this could be epic! The boils should be big and fluffy, and the pool will be filled up!
Tuesday afternoon, I get off the river and check my phone; it’s Sam, “Let’s think about leaving soon”. We are about to get on the road for a 3-hour drive South to a rafting base in Moawhango. I grab my overnight kit and jump in the pickup, making our way through Taupō and on over the Desert Road.
After a beautiful sunset drive across the volcano field, we arrive at Jure’s house.
After a quick action plan, we get some sleep. Up at 4:30, and in the dark, we get into our kayaking kit and drive down to the river.
As the sun rises, we begin our walk through some farmland and towards the canyon.
The first section was going to be committed class 2/3, and from what we could see from the put-in, trees were going to be an issue.
The first move involved a tight ferry between a bush and an almost river-wide tree. With Jure at the helm, he boosted ahead and made the move. Following, I could feel the nerves of commitment sneaking in.
To our delight, the gorge was mostly log-jam-free. Incredible trees towering over the canyon walls let morning sun pierce the mist as it rose from the warm water.
Each blind corner and another “good to go” signal from our fearless captain, Jure. Eventually, we reached a corner, and the noise of the waterfall was immediate. A thunder of crashing water amplified by the tight canyon hit us like a wall of sound.
We eddied out on river right and climbed out of our kayaks, excited to find the source of the crescendoing noise.
To our shock, we found the waterfall less clean than we had hoped. The water on river left was churning in lumps into a large and inaccessible cave, and the water in the centre and right was recirculating hard. Clearly shallow, our throw-and-go option was not in, and there were no available anchor points for any form of abseil.
Not only did this waterfall turn out to be a must-run, but it was also a must-boof.
The feeling of standing somewhere that no human had ever stood was pretty indescribable, and the gravity of the situation was dawning on us.
Jure and Sam were up first, we needed to keep our bows up enough to get away from the waterfall but down enough to not take any serious injuries.
Jure boosts towards the drop and pulls hard, significantly harder than we were expecting. He lands dead flat, power-flips upside down, rolls up, and gives us a whoop. “That was insane!”
Sam follows with a similar line, breaking his paddles on impact.
I step up, with Rhys on the camera at the lip. As I’m moving towards the falls, I can feel my heart pounding, but I know what I have to do. I try to keep my bow down, but miscalculate and end up landing only just off flat. I toss my paddles in the air to avoid them breaking or hitting me, and I stomped as hard as I could. Reaching forward to protect my back, I hit my face on the cockpit rim and winded myself.
Sitting on the rocks, I listen for Rhys’ whistle and see him air out super hard more centre than the rest of us. He pulls off an incredible stomp and skips out with a very sore back.
With a black eye, some sore backs and a broken paddle. We took some photos and began to find a way out.
The canyon walls below the waterfall were sheer, and the only way out was up a super-steep, chossy bank. We only made it about a quarter of the way up before we decided it was a bad idea.
Back on the water, we carried on down through the gorge, where Jure revealed to us that a scene from The Lord of the Rings was filmed there. Singing “The Shire” theme, we paddled on until we found a takeout on the left.
Back up to the vehicles, we shared hugs and dreamt of an ice-cold beverage to revive our battered bodies.
Shot for the mish boys x
