Haridwar/Rishikesh III: Floating Down a River

1. One of Those Experiences in the Montage of My Life (to Flash Before My Eyes in Times of Peril!) 

On the morning second day with the great Ganga, we sit in a small store-front restaurant, sipping chai. Chai is, simply, one of the best things you'll ever find (anywhere). It's a spiced tea, mixed with milk (cow or buffalo, depending on what's available, and I can't tell them apart), sugar, and ginger. It's served in these little glass cups, the serving about the size of a double shot, and can be seen just about anywhere, anytime. I'm offered it just about anywhere I go; I have it daily at home and still barely drink it compared to the locals. It's not uncommon to see laborers stop for a cup of chai, drivers pull over to a roadside stand for one, we even were offered one at the remote cliff-diving spot during our rafting experience (but I'll get to that).

The drive to Rishikesh is a short one, although I wouldn't care to join the pilgrims leaving at two to four a.m. to arrive by foot for the sunrise. One of the first things we see when we arrive is an advertisement for one of the Rishikesh Adventure Companies (there seem to be hundreds of these things). "White Water Rafting!" So I, in my jeans and sneakers, and Virali in her Indian suit, are soon in the back of a Jeep making our way up the mountains of Rishikesh, nervously looking at the river down below and the increasingly rough road ahead.

About to Push-Off

16km upstream, we're watching our guides inflate the raft and about a half-dozen other groups take off. These rafts are usually manned by eight people, but today it's just the two of us and our two guides.

This is one of the most gorgeous and terrifying moments of my life, climbing into a small raft between giant mountains, eying the rapids before us. A quick lesson, and suddenly we're off!

One of our first rapids is called “Roller Coaster Rapids;” we had paused to watch a group go over them from the road above. “This is where boats usually flip!” Virali translates.

Suddenly our little boat is flying into the air, three, four, five foot waves tossing us about, splashing us into each other. In the back, our guide is screaming as if our lives depend on it. “Forward Team!!! FORWARD!! Use the body!!”

Buffalo

We somehow survive, and we're laughing from the joy of that survival. We wind through the mountains on this holy river, alternating between moments of adrenaline and moments of incredible peace (the song “Aqueous Transmission” became my unshakable theme song). I don't think there has ever been a more serene moment in my life as we float past little hidden caves, old stone stairs built into the mountain, and herds of water buffalo.

A little over half-way through the trip, we tie the raft off, along with several other teams, to visit a cliff-diving spot. People have hauled in tea to this remote place to sell to rafters. 

I spend some time watching the others cliff dive. Everyone is giddy and excited as they wait to make the leap, and I am absolutely terrified of the idea. There's no way. It's not going to happen.

Then, I have a moment to decide on what's more terrifying: the jump or regretting not jumping for the rest of my life?

I'm on the ledge before I know it. I'm shaking, my muscles don't seem to be working like they should. One of the guides has come with me to the edge; he says something in Hindi and then an English 1-2-3. I lift one leg, and then hesitate, time freezing as I wonder if he said “Ready 1-2-3” or “When it's time to jump, I'll say 1-2-3,” but it's too late. Better jump because I'm falling in anyway. JJJJJUUUUUUUUUMMMMMPPPP, and splash!

It's one of those rare moments in your life when the thrill of an activity is combined with the joy of overcoming a fear. One of those amazing moments.

Okay, I know what you're thinking. Ewwwwww, the Ganges?? Isn't that one of the dirties rivers on earth? Well, yes, it is.

Virali Floats Ahead of the Raft

But fear not, my friends. Rishikesh is the first city along this river, and we are upstream of it, in the mountains, just a short trip from the source of the river. Up here, the water is clear and refreshing (refreshing like a jump in the pool, not like a Sprite), and it's perfectly safe.

Although...

I'll admit, there was one incident at the end of our journey. As we float down one of the peaceful spots, blissful for the mix of sun and adrenaline, Virali scoops up a piece of burnt wood from the river. “What's this doing here?” she wonders as she playfully writes “Hello” on the side of our raft. From the back, one of the guides says something in Hindi, and Virali is suddenly washing her hands. “God forgive me, what have I done?” Her words echo my thoughts as we both realize that it's burned wood from a cremation.

Oh God, I'm in the middle of the fracking Ganges!!! What have I done!

This thought is interrupted by a thirteen story mandir rising in front of us. Dripping wet, we tie off the boat and go pay our respects to the temple.

Tired, sore, but satisfied, we finish the trip and make our way back to Haridwar. 

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