Rafting the Kaituna - Night 48

I was wrong about the severity of the sulphurous smell. Upon opening the door to the hallway this morning I was instantly hit with a whiff of that unmistakably aroma of rotten eggs. I guess the wind had changed and the odor was blowing straight into town. Being a glutton for the obscene and weird, my morning jog took me straight to the lake, though the Government Gardens and eventually near a few of the geothermal pools. The nearer the lake, the stronger the stench. After a while you just get used to it and carry on with life. I imagine it is sort of like living in Kaukauna or Tacoma…except that I haven’t yet seen any two headed children around here.

Rafting the Kairuna

My bus to the rafting base arrived promptly sometime after nine-ish. There were nine of us for rafting, another four brave souls would be ‘sledging’ -- sort of like tobogganing down the river on small, hand held sleds. Stevie was our driver, a late twenties/early thirties guy with long hair and an infectious personality…the perfect combination for an adventure guide. Arriving at the base the other guides were all the same, tanned, long hair, carefree guys having the time of their life and getting paid to do it. I am Jack’s sense of envy. The rafters split into two groups, I was put with a mid-30s couple from California on their honeymoon, and two guys from France. Our raft would have two guides, Jimbo and Jeffy, and thus we would be the first to go over the larger falls along the way. The other boat, with only one guide, would follow behind.

The trip started with a prayer to the Maori gods of the river -- delivered in eloquent fashion by Jimbo (if an unkempt man with dreadlocks and a strange stamp on his head can be described as eloquent) The beginning 100 meters of the river was very calm and we simply went over the basics of rafting and what to do when we hit the large falls. Easy stuff. The first challenge was a two meter drop followed immediately by a one meter drop – the remnants of an old power plant. We made it through, wet but unscathed. After some smaller rapids, a bit of drifting and a history lesson by the guides we began preparation for the large 7 meter drop. Purportedly the largest in commercial rafting, we would be dropping over 20 feet down a falls into the churning water. Often the rafts tip, so we went over rescue plans and other eventualities. A brief Maori chant got our blood coursing through our veins and we approached, with Jeffy steering in the back and Jimbo screaming up front. We caught some good air, ducked down into the water and came up a bit cock-eyed but managed to stay upright. Another successful fall. According to the guides, yesterday 4 of the 5 boats capsized. It was then our turn to spin around and play rescue boat for the trailing raft. Luckily, they also made it without tipping. The trip ended soon afterwards, all told just over an hour on the river.

Returning to base, a group of photographers had raced along with us taking photos as we descended the falls. I knew they would be selling them at the end, but was shocked by the price -- $40 for 30 photos. The rafting trip itself only cost $70. The photos looked nice, but I couldn’t justify blowing $40 on it. Hopefully I can catch up with the French guys down the road and give then $10 to download pictures off their CD.
Back at the hostel I ate lunch and took a well

Rotorua Museum

deserved nap. In the afternoon I went for a hike along the Lake Rotorua trail. Following the lake shore, the trail takes you right through the middle of numerous geothermal holes continuously spouting steam and mud. It is an eerie feeling watching mother nature hiccup such stench from her bowels just meters away. A testament to the awesome power and seemingly unending wonders of the earth.

What I Learned Today: The Maori, in an effort to protect their women and children during times of tribal warfare, would lower them down via ropes into caves built into the sides of the cliffs formed by the Kaituna River. From this vantage point the women….fuck it, this is boring. You don’t want to hear about Maori defensive tactics. You are thinking, “he has got all this time on his hand, couldn’t he at least come up with something a bit more reflective, entertain us with deep thoughts on the fabric of the cosmos, or at least something learned about himself or life in general.” Ok, here goes. Like most everyone else, I often meet someone and think, “Damn they look like so and so.” This has been happening to me with nearly everyone I’ve met over here. Right now I am sharing a hostel room with a young Rachel Wussow, Ed Bove, a girl with Annie Laux’s nose, Eric Krull and a cross between Lindsey Delecki and Morgan Kimbrough. My rafting guides today were Jason Delleman and a hippy version of James Kessenich. I can go on….Perhaps it is because my mind is so unattuned to not seeing familiar faces that it is trying to create them or maybe I’ve finally slowed the pace of my life to the point where I can spend the time and psychic energy to look deeply at people, to stare into their soul, to contemplate their very existence and then, poof, simply judge them based on who they look like from my previous lives. On the other hand, it is entirely likely that I’ve just lost my mind.

written by

exumenius on November 27, 2007 from Rotorua, New Zealand

from the travel blog: Kiwis and Kangaroos

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