The Yellow River has been one of those elusive runs on our list that for whatever reason never seems to work out according to plan. My first trip on the Yellow ended up being a solo one, back in October of 2009, when the big raft trip we had planned fell through. I took out one day early and spent a day hiking around a gorge near the take-out, half regretting my decision to run alone but happy to see the section of river, which I found out was being dammed in two places in the 100 mile section I paddled, and in nine more places in the upper part of the basin.
This trip I was excited to have company, as an unnamable friend studying at Beijing University for the semester had a weeklong holiday during the first week of October. I just happened to have a boat and self-support equipment for him. The only catch was that exchange students weren’t supposed to participate in high risk activities like exploratory kayaking, so he had to be a little creative with the itinerary he submitted to the school, and both of us had to be careful not to get stranded above some unrunnable unportageable rapid and get him late back to class.
The section we wanted to paddle this time was about 70 miles long, and several feet/mile steeper than any of the big runs I’ve explored in the past off of the Plateau. The total gradient was something like 17 ft/mile, which doesn’t sound like much, but when you add in 20-30,000 CFS, incredibly fast geologic uplift (second fastest in the world next to Kyrgistan), vertical walled quartzite gorges, and 10,000 feet of elevation at put-in, and the remoteness, you have a fairly serious run on your hands.
But perhaps even more attractive to us than the whitewater itself was the surrounding landscape, culture, and history of exploration of the river. The Anyemaqen Mountains, which formed the canyon we wanted to paddle, are home to one of the four most sacred peaks in Tibetan culture, and the Yellow flows through a Tibetan area known for its scholarly works. The river itself had only been explored once, by a group of Chinese in 1987, and just after leaving our projected put-in, they met with disaster and seven of them drowned. Sure, they were there in rafts at high water and didn’t have any skills to speak of, but Google Earth images also revealed two serious landslide rapids that didn’t have any evident portage routes at high flows.
Which brings us to our dilemma. When my friend (let’s just call him Fred) and I made it to the put-in, the river was high. Not flooding, but definitely much higher than it normally is in early October, probably between 40,000 and 50,000 CFS in flow, twice what Fred and I were hoping. There were also only two of us, which meant that if someone swam we’d probably get the person but maybe not their boat. So we spent a few days at a really amazing Tibetan school at the put-in for a day, where one of our friends was volunteering. We watched their sport games, and we hiked around the gorge I’d portaged, even paddling part of it.
Opening Parade for the Jimeijianzan Professional School's 2011 Sports Games
We spent a day hiking around this gorge trying to figure out how big that river wide hole at the bottom was...
And when we figured out a way to get down to the rivers' edge we realized it was BIG...
That day we also spent hours on Google Earth looking for alternative put-in routes, and finally found a major tributary coming into the Yellow from the west about halfway into the run, beyond the landslide rapids and steepest gradient. The tributary, called the Qiemu Qu, drained directly from the sacred peak crowning the Anyemaqen range.
An unnamed peak rising above the confluence of the Ge Qu and Qiemu Qu.
The next morning we were off, and a few hours later driving through a snowstorm down to find the Qiemu Qu. I was disappointed but not surprised to discover they were damming the tributary of the Qiemu Qu that we drove down, called the Ge Qu. Both of us were surprised to see the tremendous vertical walled gorge that river flowed through, complete with a short waterfall and some good looking Class IV. Under different circumstances would have been a worthy run in and of itself. As we drove closer to where this river flowed into the tributary, our hearts started to sink. It was steep and serious, and while not flooding, the water was definitely on the high side of good. It would have been an awesome run for a good team with plenty of time on their hands, but not awesome for us when our hope was to get down and find the Yellow as fast as possible. The road ended at a construction camp and after paddling a hundred yards we spent the rest of the evening carrying our boats down to the confluence with the tributary, hoping that we would feel good about going downstream when we got to the Qiemu Qu itself, which based on the size of the drainage on the map would have 2,000-3,000 CFS.
A dam under construction that will divert all of the water from the Ge Qu through a tunnel into the Qiemu Qu to generate power.
Fred packs up his Hero as a group of Tibetan road builders look on...
The entrance drops to a sweet little gorge above where the Ge Qu flows into the Qiemu Qu. About 1000 CFS.
We woke in the morning to the blue green Qiemu Qu, and Fred made a wise decision for our little team. No going downstream. The Qiemu Qu looked awesome – blue green water, some easy class 3-4 rapids in the two or three hundred yards of river that we could see, and most of them portage able with a scramble. But the canyon walls were vertical for thousands of feet and with the 70 feet/mile projected by Google Earth down to the confluence and a couple pretty white looking corners there was certainly the possibility that we would get stuck.
Confluence of the Ge Qu and Qiemu Qu. Only 10 river miles to the Yellow...
I discovered a lot about myself in the next two hours. First, I like taking risks. Even though considering the circumstances Fred made what I think was the right decision, it was really tough for me to swallow at first. I would have put on that river in a heartbeat without regards to the likelihood of getting seriously stuck in a sketchy gorge and having to deal with potentially grim consequences. Perhaps its the explorer in me, or perhaps its foolishness. Fred is an up and coming paddler and kept asking me questions about objectivity and subjectivity in making decisions about what is runnable and when it is okay to put-in. I couldn’t really answer him. Sure, some decisions are very clear cut. Other times you can rationalize back and forth all day long with the available “objective facts” to whatever end you wish. All I could conclude is that ultimately the decision comes down to a feeling, based on a relationship with the river at a certain time and place. (Note: That last part believe it or not came from my mother…also a river person.)
Something else that crystallized for me there is that paddling is as much about community as it is having an independent relationship with the river. It is certainly alluring to face a majestic canyon alone, but the kind of smile it puts on your face begins to develop a cold hollowness after awhile. In contrast, being out there with friends, ideally a group of five or six on a big river, brings a full hearted sense of companionship and joy, without necessarily the opportunity to enjoy the river or its canyons in that solitary way. Safety concerns aside, at the most basic emotional level having paddling companions is much more sustainable.
So here’s this blog. On the “Jackson Community Site” – provided by an organization that’s all about providing the tools that get people together on the water having fun and pushing their own personal limits. And the Ge Qu, Qiemu Qu, and Yellow still sit there, waiting for at least a few more years to be enjoyed before they are eaten by the gods of concrete and electricity. And I’m not quite sure exactly what I’m suggesting, but all I know is that the rivers in China could use some more people out playing on them, and I could sure be stoked to be out playing on them a little more myself…and I live here and would be more than happy within my ability to help any paddlers interested in coming over and exploring what is left of this tremendous country.
Cheers : )
Travis
