Rio Negro

little van heading south

Stacked, eddy-less basalt rapids sound fun, that is unless they culminate in large drops with either a reconnect or a rock in the landing zone. The Rio Negro will never be a classic. Mainly due to the fact that it’s in the middle of nowhere (Hornopiren).

Rio Negro from Chris Baer on Vimeo.

Hornopiren is either a full day of dirt road driving or a ferry ride away from anywhere. The perks: a small town atmosphere, fresh seafood, and beautiful camping next to the crystal clear river.

Bayside Hornopiren

Aeon Russo, no rocks in the landing zone, just a tree

The sloped basalt rock structure creates leaky eddies, (eddies where a large portion of the water, and potentially eddy-scouting kayakers, escapes out the downstream end of the eddy rather than recycling back up). This meant that eddy scouting was not a feasible option. At every major rapid we were forced out of our kayaks to scout. Our descent took four and a half hours to navigate the dense three kilometers of river back to camp. Thankfully, the basalt does stack into a handful of spectacular drops… that aren’t too problematic.

Aeon Russo, Rio Negro

Hamish Tills, U-turn Rapid

Aeon Russo, no rocks in the landing zone, just a tree

While this river has plenty of issues, its complications add to its intrigue, and the next time I find myself in Hornopiren I will make time to get another lap.

adventure by Chris Baer

Expedition: Short For Epic? Rio Manso, Chile

Alerces Gorge

Rio Manso from Chris Baer on Vimeo.

Aeon Russo, Alerces Falls

The Upper Manso, or Argentine Manso is super fun; here are a few pictures, but that is not what this story is about.

Salto de Alerces

Mark Taylor, coming out of the jungle

Aeon Russo, Manso Gorge

scouting another phallic named waterfall

Aeon Russo, flat water paddle out

During our time on the Rio Puelo, we bumped into an old friend of mine: Tomas Binimelis. He spoke of yet another threatened and very unique river section, the Rio Manso. But he wasn’t speaking of the more commonly paddled Alerces Gorge section in Argentina, but a very remote and mysterious section on the Chilean side of the border. Bennie’s beta on what we would encounter in the isolated valley was limited, and my understanding of that valley was beyond inadequate.

Beta

Years ago I remembered both Nate Mac and Matias Nunez rambling about the obscure Rio Manso Chilean Gorge. Accounts of “epic” was all I could remember. I tried to reach out to them and other friends in the area, and unfortunately (fortunately), the Puelo Valley currently has next to no communication with the outside world.

"coloring book map"

Our threesome (Aeon Russo, Mark Taylor, and Chris Baer) added a few new faces for the endeavor. Our newly amended crew now included Hamish Tills and Tomas Binimelis. We all started compiling our marginal beta, most of which was based upon hearsay and rumor, along with a few numbers from what Aeon so delicately referred to as the “coloring book map”. The alleged put-in, from the info that we could obtain, was four-hundred and twenty meters above sea level, and we were going to descend all the way down to just above sea level. The estimated distance was approximately thirty kilometers. After a quick mental conversion to the Imperial system, the river would fall at an average gradient of sixty-seven feet per mile for eighteen miles… a long one day event?

a bunch of boaters waiting on a boat

Logistics

 

Tomas, chatting with the captain

“Arduous” would be a massive understatement for this trip. Thankfully, Tomas, our fearless Chilean was hard at work orchestrating our impending journey. To get to the Manso put-in, we would drive up the Puelo valley to the Upper Puelo put-in. We would then hike thirty minutes upstream to a large eddy, await our next vessel, load ourselves and our gear onto a motor boat, and then go upriver into the headwaters of the Rio Puelo. We then exited the first boat at an unidentifiable beach, and hiked half a mile up the hillside to get our passports stamped out of Chile by the grumpy, under-caffeinated border guards at the ridiculously remote “Paso Puelo” (only accessible via boat). We hopped onto a slightly larger jet boat and skipped our way further up-stream. Launching up a solid class 3 rapid, the captain calmly mentioned that we had just attain-boofed our way into Argentina. Our passports were stamped into Argentina at the beautiful Parque Nacional Lago Puelo. Then we journeyed north via a family friend of Tomas in a pickup truck for four hours to Paso Leon. The road dead ends in Paso Leon. We then checked out of Argentina, crossed the Rio Manso by kayak, and then checked back into Chile on the other side. This single day of logistics would have taken me a week or more to contrive, but spectacularly, Tomas pulled it off like it was just another day in the office.

Paso Puelo

 

end of the road

heading to the border crossing for the fourth time in a single day

 

On Water

 

Mark Taylor, picking his way through the siphon pile

The tributary just North of the Rio Manso is the Rio Cochamo. Shortly after setting off into our trip, the Rio Manso revealed its similarity to the Rio Cochamo: essentially gigantic boulders stacked on top of each other in a narrow canyon. There were literally siphons stacked upon siphons. Downstream progress slowed to a crawl.

Mark Taylor, Manso Chile

The next ten hours were a blur of massive boulder gardens, countless sieves, live bait scouting, and way too many close calls. Late in the day after running a massive sieve-laden boulder garden, I caught a micro eddy in the middle of the river. Looking downstream, Tomas and Hamish were sitting thirty feet below. The water between us was exploding in every direction. Their paddles were straight up in the air (signaling that the rapid was ok). Mark, Aeon, and I dropped into the melee heedlessly; we were exhausted.

Aeon Russo, Rio Manso

Every skill in my kayaking repertoire was being abused. Mentally, I was battered and my confidence started to fade.

Too Dark

 

trying to dry out after a long day

The gorge glowed an amazing saffron hue as the sun set over the unrelenting canyon rim. We stopped on a rocky beach. Fourteen years of paddling class 5 rivers, and this was my first unexpected overnight. We collected every piece of driftwood on the “beach” and started a fire. No one was anticipating a night out. Food was slim and protection from the elements was absent. The rain started at about 2:00 AM, and sleep became unattainable.

drying out after a long, cold, wet night

The following morning the crew was moving exceptionally slowly. Most hadn’t gotten any real sleep. Thankfully the river had given up most of its gradient. Wearily, we paddled through sporadic class 3 for the final six kilometers to our take out.

the locals are fighting hard

Sin Represas

 

proposed dam site, already under destruction

Part of the reason why we entered into the lower Rio Manso Gorge is that it’s threatened by an imminent dam project. We had hopes of obtaining some beautiful photos and video of the valley that could have been used in the anti-dam campaign. It was at our unexpected camp, exhausted, cold, and hungry, that I turned to Tomas with utter dispassion and exclaimed, “I changed my mind, I want this section to be dammed. I don’t want anyone else to have to deal with this.” We both let out an exhausted chuckle.

Puelo locals protesting the dam project

an amazing location

Do Not Go Into The Lower Rio Manso Gorge…

 

Mark Taylor, exhausted after another big mission

… Unless you are looking for a truly next level experience. Prerequisites should include self-discovery runs down the Rio Cochamo, Linville, Lower Meadow, and Cheeseman Gorge. Bring your “A Game”… and definitely your overnight gear.

almost too exhausted to get the shot

A couple months after I published this article John Arthur reached out to me with discription of the first discent, even more Epic!

Dear Chris,
I noticed the article on your website describing the lower Rio Manso, and thought you might be interested in some info about early kayak exploration of this run.

In February 1995 I was spending some time at Chris Spelius’ camp on the Futaleufu, and asked him for help in setting up a river adventure.  He suggested the Rio Puelo, and offered to provide logistics.  I recruited Lars Holbek, who was working for Spe that year, along with a couple of other visitors to Spe’s camp — Dave Kemp from California and Dave Kalange from Idaho.  We all piled into Spe’s truck and he drove us to Argentina.  The plan was to first meet up with a bunch of kayakers from Bariloche and run the Alerces section of the Manso.  Spe had brought a bunch of old kayaks with him, to sell to the Bariloche boaters.  In gratitude, they treated us to an evening of asado and wine on the beach at Lago Steffen after the Alerces run.  As we drank more wine, the idea of simply continuing on down the Manso to the ocean somehow started to seem credible.  Lars was against it at first, since we knew almost nothing about the river downstream (we had only a highway map, showing an eventual confluence with the Puelo).  But the Bariloche boaters assured us that the Manso was navigable at least as far as the border with Chile.  Beyond that, they knew nothing, but there were rumors that a party of Germans had headed downstream just a few days earlier.  That was enough for Kalange and Kemp, and they talked Lars into it.  In addition, Bariloche boater Diego Rodriguez decided to join us. 

The next morning, after we sobered up, the plan somehow still seemed plausible.  We were there, the river was waiting — it seemed fated to happen.  So we packed our Responses and Crossfires with gear and food for an expedition.  I had brought lots of dehydrated meals from the US, and we had a couple of camping stoves and pots.  A Response can hold a lot of gear, but we regretted the weight later.  We said goodbye to Spe and to our Bariloche hosts, and paddled off from the beach.

According to my notes, we paddled about 35 km the first day, nearly to the border.  I remember easy paddling through pastures and forests, with great scenery.  On the second day, we paddled a nice class 3-4 canyon at the border, and crossed into Chile.  Then the river turned south and got serious.  We proceeded more slowly and made a few portages.  This day we covered about 20 km. 

On the third day, things got really serious as the river continued south.  A succession of big class 4 and 5 drops, some runnable and some portaged.  One portage required fancy rock climbing by Lars and a rope traverse for kayaks and boaters.  ( I recognize this drop in your video — you did a roped swim.)  In the afternoon we reached a vertical-walled canyon with two huge drops back to back.  The first drop looked marginal and the second couldn't be scouted.  So we scaled the cliff, and pulled the boats up with ropes.  Once on top we crashed through the bamboo.  Our progress was very slow, as we heaved the loaded boats over, under and through the bamboo jungle.  In 4 hours hiking we covered about 1/2 km and reached a side creek, where we camped.  Total mileage for the day:  about 4 km. 

The morning of the fourth day, we did some reconnaissance down in the canyon, and concluded that the river was runnable for at least a few km.  We lowered the boats to the river by rope and climbed down ourselves, jumping the last 40 feet into an eddy.  Big rapids followed but only one portage and the gradient gradually eased.  About 10 km of great class 3-4 rapids followed.  Late in the afternoon the river tuned west and the canyon abruptly ended, leaving us on flat water.  We camped just above the confluence with the Rio Puelo.  We had been conserving our food to this point, but now that we were out of the canyon we celebrated with a pig-out dinner.

On the fifth day we paddled all the way to the bridge near Puelo town, playing in the huge hole at the exit to Lago Tagua Tagua.  We caught the bus from Puelo to Puerto Montt, paying 5000 pesos to put the boats on the roof.

We never did catch up with the Germans on the river (though we found bits of plastic on the rocks at the portage points).  However, Dave Kemp eventually ran into them in a bar in Puerto Montt.  They made more long portages than we did, climbing out of the canyon at least three times.  Thus, our trip was either a first or second descent, depending on your criteria.  Diego Rodriguez came back with his Bariloche buddies later and proved that the canyon we hiked around was runnable.  He eventually set up a company (Adventure Tours Argentina Chile) and guided commercial raft trips down the lower Manso.

I enjoyed your Manso video, and even recognized many of the rapids after 20 years.  I’m very sorry to hear about the plans to build a dam in there, and hope the the local resistance to this plan is successful. 

Regards,
John Arthur
Berkeley, CA

Descent of the Rio Manso from Lago Steffen to the town of Puelo, February 6-10, 1995
John Arthur
Lars Holbek
David Kalange
David Kemp
Diego Rodriguez
 

adventure by Chris Baer

Why Big Volume Waterfalls Are Such Fun: Rio Fuy and Gol Gol

There is just something about that big water boof

Leaving the swirling eddy with a little concern about the location of the obscured indicator feature; taking a couple strong strokes to get up to speed with the water; spotting that small, breaking wave to line up; Duffek onto the three foot wide, bright green tongue; leaning forward, waiting, watching the water glisten as it runs over the rock below you; looking for the moment that rock drops away and the water explodes into a white flash; turning the boat over on edge; levering the stroke deep, the solid friction of a blade full of water and pulling all the way through; leaning further forward; realigning the boat; falling, surrendering to gravity; the water droplets making contact with your face and chest; white-out in the eruption of water; feeling the firm yet giving impact of the bow settling itself into the aerated water; the stern making contact, transforming all of the vertical flight into forward momentum; wheelieing into the pool. All of this is why big volume waterfalls are some of the most sought after features in whitewater. The Rio Fuy and Gol Gol produce multiple opportunities for these types of rewards.

car camping at the Fuy put-in

Chris Baer finding that magic spot

Aeon deep in the Gol Gol

Another Vertical Rescue

It was our second day paddling the Gol Gol and the crew was a bit tired. Slowly, we made our way down to Salto Princessa, one of the “big ones”. The lead-in for this twenty footer is rather awkward and no one had a spectacular line the day before. After a quick group chat the consensus was that we were going to run relatively close to each other in a “blue angel” safety pattern. The going theory is that not everyone is going to crash, and that everyone will be relatively near each other in case anything weird were to arise. Mark went first, and from my eddy he appeared to have a good line. I fired off of the falls second and had a great line. As I set my stroke towards the eddy I spotted Mark’s boat upside down. Then I heard a, “Whoop!” My head swiveled. Where was Mark? One or two paddle strokes towards shore and another, “Whoop!” I started yelling back to an undisclosed Mark. Aeon came off the falls only moments later and was able to spot Mark tucked up into a rather nasty looking rock/tree undercut pocket. Thankfully, Mark was able to stabilize himself in the pocket by holding onto two marginal twigs. Mark’s precarious position was unfortunately costing him a ton of energy and he was quickly getting cold and tired.

Aeon Russo discerning that elusive lip

Aeon and I dove out of our boats, throw ropes in hand. We tossed a rope down to help stabilize Mark, but it didn’t seem plausible to pull him vertically out of the pocket. His perch was gross. The rocks and wood were overhanging on three sides of him and the water rushing in on the fourth side. It was taking too long. We were attempting rescue strategies that were going to put Mark in too much risk. It was simple. The best way to get him out of the situation was to turn on the adrenaline, get real strong, and pull him vertically up and out of the overhung pocket. This took two ropes attached to him and quite a bit of cursing. The tactile sensation of reaching over and grabbing his life jacket brought a huge smile to my face.

Aeon Russo waiting for the stroke

The team took it pretty hard. Legitimate rescues had been coming at a pretty ferocious rate on this trip. Had we been pushing it too hard? Were our balls bigger than our brains? Was it just our turn? The fact is Aeon Russo, Mark Taylor, and I make a strong team. It’s because I have faith in these folks that I’m willing to put myself in these dangerous situations. It’s because of this team that we have endured these trials and tribulations. I for one am excited about our next adventure!

Mark Taylor approaching free-fall

Rope Ladder

ten alpine butterfly knots in a throw bag

After two vertical extractions, here is another technique to retrieve an active victim. Simply tie one end of rope to a solid anchor and then tie multiple butterfly knots on the other end. The active victim can simply climb out under their own power. A good video on how to tie a butterfly knot can be found at this link: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=n2aRj8dQPRQ

adventure by Chris Baer

Sin Represas, Rio Puelo

Mark and Aeon staring into the big one

Puelo

Rumors of a better, longer Inferno Canyon (a section on the infamous Rio Futaleufu) sparked the crew's interest. The fact that there is a new road situated along the Upper Rio Puelo Canyon means the section is now lap-able!

Rio Puelo from Chris Baer on Vimeo.

How to get there

Lago Tauga Tauga

From the small town of Cochamo, continue south to Puelo. From Puelo, head east into the mountains to Lago Tagua Tagua. To cross the lake with your vehicle it’ll cost you 7,000 pesos, or ten U.S. dollars. After exiting the ferry stay on the main road all the way up to Primer Coral. There is now a large steel bridge crossing the river at Primer Coral. The old swinging bridge will be just downstream; this is the take out. To reach the put in, continue upstream river left for ten kilometers until the road epically downgrades. From here, hike slightly upstream and down towards the river, anywhere in this region will be an acceptable entrance point.

Blanquita on the Ferry

The water is iridescent blue, and the rapids are spectacular. The canyon is too narrow for the volume of water passing through it. This constricted water creates rowdy reactionary waves and surging boils. This means last second corrections, and on the fly problem solving.

save this valley

Chile Sin Represas 

Puelo community in action, Sin Represas

After two days of paddling this amazing canyon, we reluctantly made our way back towards civilization. Our timing couldn’t have been any better as we stumbled into an anti-dam rally. Most of the residents of this beautiful community had come together for a three day anti dam march. The demonstration concluded in the small town of Puelo. It was a spectacular experience to get to paddle in this remote canyon and then jeer with the locals. In Chile, like so many other locations, dams are halted by small community groups. I felt proud to join with my Chilean brothers in protest against the destruction of a beautiful community and stunning valley. For more info on Chile's continual fight against dams check out, www.chilesinrepresas.com.

adventure by Chris Baer

The Risk, Nilahue

Mark Taylor setting hero safety at the base of Nilahue

Salto del Nilahue

I’m sharing this experience with the hope that it will educate. Kayaking can be a very dangerous activity. All participants need to pay attention to the risks and rewards to properly arrive at their own threshold.

waking up to the beauty of Lago Ranco

Salto del Nilahue has been changing relatively rapidly. Less than ten years ago it was run as a fifty foot waterfall with a thirty foot reconnect. Then it changed into a sloping forty foot slide that transitioned into a thirty foot vertical. Now it’s a two foot tall curler that drops you into a fifty foot waterfall. And if these changes weren’t wild enough, the landing zone has been changing as well. The left wall is constantly being eroded, creating a heinous cave. It was in this cave that Juanito De Ugarte passed away just over a year ago.

Nilahue from Chris Baer on Vimeo.

Having dealt with access issues near Salto del Nilahue before, our crew was taking every precaution to be kind and upfront with the landowners surrounding the waterfall. Our goal was to attain consensual access to the river right property. Unfortunately the property owner was not around so, instead of risking an ensuing confrontation, we decided to use river left access.

Aeon Russo charging the curler

The new lip is pretty ugly. A two foot lateral is churning off the right wall. The line is to get up onto this curler and then do a massive pitch and yaw change mid-plummet. I wasn’t sold, but Aeon Russo sure was. Mark Taylor and I headed to the bottom to set up safety and media.

looking down into the Nilahue Valley 

Aeon’s line was beautiful. A powerful stroke pulled his boat up on top of the curler and then swiftly leaning forward and twisting, he corrected his angle, and stomped the bow down with a tight tuck into the massive boil at the bottom. As Aeon resurfaced the boil ripped his left hand off the paddle. Thankfully he was able to quickly re-index, roll up, and take a couple strong strokes away from the left wall. I was sold!

Very rarely do I change my mind after watching someone run a line. I usually like to stick with my gut feelings, but rules are meant to be broken and Aeon dealt with the curler at the lip amazingly well.

Chris Baer clearing the curler

Chris Baer nose down, but not a tight tuck

Sliding into my boat above the drop I was a little nervous. Partially for the seal launch, mainly for the curler, and also just a tiny bit of concern about the undercut left wall. Seal launching went well and I gave myself a quick pep talk floating in the eddy. My mind was clear, and positive I was about to have a ton of fun.   A couple of solid strokes and I was up onto the curler. Quickly I disconnected from the water and found myself airborne. Mid-air adjustments followed, small weight shifts to change the angle of the boat, and a lean forward to get the nose down. I was still steering as I blasted into the landing zone. The impact ripped the paddle out of my hands. One quick hand roll attempt got me most of the way up. It also gave me a quick glimpse of my surroundings, and in that glimpse I saw the left wall was coming at me at a much faster rate than I had anticipated. I stood up out of my upside down boat and did my best Michael Phelps impression, ripping out strokes, trying to work my way downstream as far as I could before making contact with the undercut wall.

Chris Baer hand roll attempt heading towards the cave

The initial contact was rough; my legs slid under the wall at a forty-five degree angle and I was just barely able to catch a hand hold. The water was violently sweeping past me, siphoning under the wall. Looking over my shoulder I spotted Mark, who had covered a huge distance and was now amazingly close. He tossed a throw bag in my direction. Unfortunately, throwing a throw bag from a kayak is tricky business and the throw was a little off. I knew I couldn’t hold myself on the wall for long and started bouldering my way downstream, one sketchy move after the next. I had attained close to ten feet of progress when one of my mossy hand holds slipped and the water flushed me under the wall.

Initially, I fought like hell to get purchase on the wall and climb back to the surface, but the rock was slick with moss and the hydropressure was way beyond the brawn of my lactic-filled muscles. Quickly it became apparent that I wasn’t going to be able to climb out from under the wall. A moment later I got flushed into a dark room speckled with little bubbles, the walls were smooth, and buoyancy felt neutral. I started to get scared but remembered to stay calm in an attempt to preserve my remaining oxygen. About that time another surge of water hit me and I got blown deeper. Suddenly, out of the corner of my eye I spotted light and gutted out a handful of strong swim strokes. Then something got tangled around my arm; it was the throw bag. I gripped it with everything I had left and after five or six full-length pulls I hit the surface, twenty-six seconds after disappearing. 

Extended hugs were given.

another beautiful horizon

So, what is the moral of this tale… Have amazing people set safety. Pay as much attention to the landing zone as the lead-in, or the falls. Be Strong. Be Calm. Be Careful.

By no means would I tell someone not to run a rapid, everyone has their own skill set and risk to reward threshold… That being said, the current situation at Salto del Nilahue is super sketchy.  

adventure by Chris Baer