Wetass Video Of The Week–Dr. Beat’s Windsurfing Kama Sutra: I don’t know who Dr. Beat is, but this kickass trailer for his windsurfing DVD suggests we may have another Warren Miller on our hands. What’s the DVD about? Well, it’s for all of you freestyle windsurfers out there who want to know what the hell an Air Chacho is (a forward loop during which the rider ducks the sail in mid air, half way through the rotation and lands clew first); or perhaps an Air Flaka (a standard 360 degree horizontal rotation into wind, performed entirely in the air; or maybe even a Gozzada (a move that is initiated from a position of sailing switch-stance and back to sail before going into a Spock 540). Uhh, thanks, Dr. Beat, I think…
Category: Uncategorized
Wetass Sport #47–Tour De Shipwreck: Earlier this month, as Lance Armstrong and the world’s elite cyclists sweated it out on the twisty roads of France, another group of hardcore bicyclists plunged into the waters of the Atlantic, 14 miles off the North Carolina coast, and hit the pedals. There were no sponsor cars, peletons, or Outdoor Life Network reporters for the 10th annual Underwater Bicycle Race, but the twelve competitors didn’t give a damn. All they were worried about was finding their bikes, which had been dumped into the 65-foot deep water, alongside a sunken 338-foot Marine landing craft repair ship, which was scuttled in 1992. Once they hit the bottom and hopped on board, some shed their flippers and pedalled properly. Others grabbed the handlebars and stretched out above the bike, finning furiously. The winner was the cyclist who stayed upright longest, which amounted to a time trial of about 40 feet. Lance wouldn’t really be impressed with the time or speeds. But he might be impressed with one of the traditions of the race: the winner’s bike is left underwater to become part of the artificial reef…
“Oh crap! I just ran over a sea urchin…”
(Photo: Dale A. Hansen)
Annals of Adventure–The New Space Race: The Ansari X Prize is a $10 million reward to the first privately funded, designed and built spacecraft that can hoist a pilot and payload (equivalent to two passengers) into suborbital space and return to earth. And then, within two weeks, turn around and do it again. Last month, SpaceShipOne, designed by composite wizard Burt Rutan and backed by Microsoft billionaire Paul Allen, flew to an altitude of just over 100 kilometers to nail the first part. Now Rutan has announced that his rocketship will go for the Prize, with two flights, starting September 29. But the competition is heating up–big time. Another project, called the Da Vinci project, will be rolled out on August 5th. The Da Vinci rocket is called Wildfire and it is initially lifted into the sky by balloon. So the skies are soon to be filled with screaming rockets, straining to free themselves from Earth’s gravity, with daredevil test pilots desperately trying to get the things safely back down to the ground in one piece, so they can be torched off again just weeks later. Should be quite a show, and Space.com has all the details. And there’s a ticking clock, spurring these guys on. The X Prize offer of $10 million expires Jan. 1, 2005…
SpaceShipOne: “Hey, is that jet up our ass who I think it is? I know those guys from the Da Vinci Project are nosey but this is getting ridiculous…”
Annals Of Adventure–Tim “Ghengis Khan” Cope: There’s something about Mongolia. First we checked in with the dude golfing his way across the steppes. And today we feature Australian adventurer Tim Cope, 25, who is in the midst of a 6,000-mile, 18-month trek from Mongolia to Hungary by horseback. Why? To follow in the footsteps, or hoofprints, of the Great Khan, of course. Tim’s journal is full of wacky adventures and misadventures (hail storms, horse thieves, fermented mare’s milk), but his main preoccupation for the moment is wolves. TWC reader Jody Robb, who first alerted me to Cope’s trans-Asia trek, sent in the following colorful report:
Having made his way into some desolate high country and met some armed wolf hunters, Tim’s aware that the odds of a meeting, and the risk to his horses, have increased.
So he did what any adventurer in a bind in Outer Mongolia would do – he rang the vet!
Sheila Greenwell is the consulting veterinarian to Horses & Horsemen, who are one of Tim’s sponsors and his horsemanship coach.
Sheila got a call in her Margaret River (South Western Australia) surgery from Tim, asking: “My horses are rubbing the hair from around their ears, do you think they have lice and, by the way, how do I keep wolves away from the camp at night?”
Sheila asks: “Are you guys eating much meat?”
Tim replies: “Dried beef and macaroni at every bloody meal!”
“Well,” says the Edinburgh educated and highly knowledgeable Dr Greenwell, “You need to urinate around the edge of the campsite every night before you go to bed. The wolves will smell the urine, identify it as that of serious carnivore and keep away.”
“All the way around the camp?” asks a gob-smacked Tim. “You’re joking! Oh well, I suppose I can do one side and Kathrin (his partner) can do the other.”
“Oh, no, no, no!” Sheila tells him. “A women’s urine contains oestrogen and will have quite the opposite effect. You’d probably wake up with a randy wolf in the tent with you.”
Uhh, not sure what even Ghengis Khan would do in that situation, but I’m sure the wolf wouldn’t like it…
Ghengis Tim: “Damn, I’m bored. I wonder when sacking and pillaging part begins…”
TWC Quick Hits…:
Dog Biscuits Shaped Like Mailmen Banned In Canada: “Bark Bars” caused outrage at Canada Post. Biscuit manufacturer also pledges to stop shipping “Jihadist Bars” to dog handlers at Abu Ghraib prison…
Hungry, Dive-bombing Pelicans Mistaking Shimmering Asphalt Of Arizona For Water: Splat. Wildlife officials concerned. Intrepid mall shoppers wearing hard hats and ear plugs…
Manatees Swim In To South Florida Shore, And Start An, Umm, Orgy: Attract a big crowd of curious tourists, voyeurs bored with the human race, and aspiring internet film makers. See the video here…
“Sure, it’s interesting. But why in the world is that guy diving underwater and taking his shirt off…?”
(Photo: NBC6)
“Mekong” Mick’s Wildass Adventure–Chapter 7: In which Mick meets the Mother Of All Rapids and thinks, well, he might not make it…
My impatience almost cost me dearly. I passed the large silver signpost that marks the TAR border with Yunnan at 4.00pm and was determined to paddle on against a 30 knot head wind that whipped up spray from the surface of the river. Although the rapids in far northern Yunnan were relatively mild compared to the gorges of the TAR they were still potentially very dangerous. I ran various big water class IV rapids without scouting and each time I did bother to scout they just turned out to be relatively straight forward runs that I could have easily negotiated without scouting.
At 7.30pm I rounded a bend just 15km above Foshan to confront yet another class IV rapid. This one was slightly steeper than most. Without a clear view from the eddy of what lay below I should have scouted it but a mixture of fatigue, frustration at scouting so many previous rapids that turned out to be easy and impatience caused me to determine that it would most likely be another burley wave train. I peeled out of the eddy paddling hard to skirt a hole on river left and bashed through a large standing wave that I expected to be followed by a wave train. Upon breaking through the wave I was confronted by a huge hole about 8 meters wide and I was headed straight for the middle. There was no time to do anything accept power into it and hope to bash through. Bam! It felt like I hit a brick wall. I rose and was slammed down again, and again, and again I was being re-circulated by the hole.
I made the firm decision in the gorges not to bail out of my boat and swim until there was absolutely no other choice so I tried to sit it out and hoped that the hole would release me as they often do. It slammed me twice more before I felt a sort of release and saw daylight. Pheww!! I was relieved for about 1 split second until I realized that the roaring hole was still behind me. I was side surfing in front of it. Before I had time to establish control of the surf I was sucked back in.
One has to feel the force of a powerful hole to fully appreciate the violence involved. Anyone who surfs or plays in ocean surf has somewhat of an idea. Yet where as a surfer can relax in the fact that no matter how powerful a wave is the violence of being dumped will gradually subside, allowing the swimmer to establish control, river holes on the other hand continue with the same undiminished violent force for days and weeks.
I was running out of oxygen fast and realized that this beast of a hole was not going to release me as long as I was attached to the buoyancy of the kayak. It took a few seconds to separate from the boat because simultaneously doing back flips, summersaults and erratic acrobatic maneuvers while not breathing is particularly bad for ones orientation.
Once out I sank into the current and felt a flush of water push me out. I broke the surface and tried to take a breath and of course received a helpful breath of liquid. I was pissed. “Why the hell did you throw yourself in that after safely paddling hundreds of kilometers of significantly more difficult white water?” It’s odd what goes through ones mind in such situations.
I only had a dry top and pants on instead of a full dry suit and could feel the freezing water seeping in. I tried repeatedly to take a breath but the water on my lungs prevented any air from entering. I looked back and saw the kayak and paddle some 20 meters upstream and began swimming for them. Without being able to breath I began to feel weak.
I looked down stream and saw another class IV rapid approaching. I tried to visually seek out a safe route through but with my line of site so close to the water all I could see were the tops of waves and foam. In the last moment I spotted a hole and swam left to avoid it. “I made it!!” then plopped straight into another even larger hole that tumbled me once and spat me out. I was really pissed when I realized I could still not take a proper breath with the water in my lungs. All I really wanted to do was swim upstream and drag the kayak to shore but I looked up stream and could no longer see it, then down stream to see yet another rapid approaching.
The lack of oxygen was making me weak fast. If I didn’t get out of there immediately I would not have the strength to make the shore. I swam for it. I was amazed by how fast my energy diminished and each stroke seemed to add another 5 kilo weight to my arms. This was serious! I suddenly found my sub conscious reciting random white water statistics. “In 2003 long swims took more white water enthusiasts lives than blah” and I was so tired I honestly could have just given up there and then if I wasn’t so pissed off. I’m not #! %*!#!! Going out like this I mentally yelled to the little demon on my shoulder that was persuading me to just relax and float through the next rapid. I dug deep, “GO, Go Go!!!” and made it to a boulder on river left clinging to it, too exhausted to stand up and walk to shore.
Whew! Tomorrow: Last chapter in this saga. Mick comes back from the dead, sets off to try to find his kayak, and ponders the meaning of it all…
“Oh Man. First killer whitewater, and now poisonous snakes! This river never stops trying to kill you…”
(Photo: Courtesy Lynley O’Shea)
Amin Brakk BASE Jump-GERONIMOOOO!: Well, those crazy Russian MoFos pulled it off. The spent 22 days in horrific weather, climbing the 5850 meter Amin Brakk, one of the most daunting towers of rock on the face of the planet. And when they finally got to the top expedition leader Valery Rozov put on his parachute and jumped. Yes, he thought long and hard before he took the leap. But he had good reason, namely there was a decent chance he would auger into a ledge about 5 seconds free fall below the launch point. Here’s the report:
The jump-point was hardly below the place where the route leaves on the summit ridge and approximately in 300 meters lower the top. The exit altitude was about 5550 meters. The jump was in a wing-suit (S3). Altitude difference was about 1000 meters; free time falling was 30 seconds (it was caused by a landing site, presented by torn glacier and moraine lines. Not making up our mind to jump for a long time we were dropping stones for two hours. Under the exit point, in 5 seconds flying, there was a large ledge: all of the stones broke about. If you make a normal push and the beginning of the track you will fly it over but if you do not you will have serious problems. Finally Valery dared to jump and flew over the ledge at three-meter distance…
Sensations after a landing were simply inexpressible. It seems you have gone for a spin by the time machine.
And here are the pictures:
“I can’t believe I said I was going to do this…”
“Damn, that vodka was tasty…”
Wetass Toy #326–Bionic Dolphin: Yup, a bionic dolphin. Massively motorized for fast swimming, with cockpit space for a human fish-wannabe (yeah, yeah, I know a dolphin is not a fish…). Check out the VASH (no idea what that stands for..) Bionic Dolphin website here for a semi-surreal trip into the future of dolphinry, and the mind of a man who, well, wants to be a dolphin. Or click over to the Innespace website, to look at an alternate design (15 feet long, 110-horse power package). Yes, it’s hard to believe. When it comes to picking a bionic dolphin, there IS a choice. Gizmo has the full fish-tale…
Mechanical Marine Mammal: “Uh-oh. Why is that guy from Sea World starting to chase me…?”
“Mekong” Mick’s Wildass Adventure–Chapter 6: In which Mick, survives more than 80 Class IV and V rapids, explains what a “chicken run” is, and thanks heaven that the Pete Winn expedition pulled out early…
The section had nearly brought me undone and for all I knew, far worse was probably just around the next bend, this played heavily on my mind as I lay resting cold and alone on the rocks. The level of physical and mental stress that I had just endured would not be sustainable for more than a day or two and I forced myself not to think about the fact that these conditions could quite possibly continue for over 150km. For the first time in my white water career I was genuinely scared and wished I could get the hell out of that gorge more than anything else on earth. I started to wonder if I would ever see loved ones again and actually tried to call my fiancé by sat ph to let her know how much I loved her but there was no signal in this no mans land where it seemed almost a certainty that no human being had ever set foot. Looking down the sheer sided gorge to more rapids I felt an intense sensation of isolation and loneliness
Yet each time I pulled out of an eddy and into the main stream I had clarity of focus and determination that is hard to define. The second I felt the current grab the hull and move me down stream all sensations of fear and doubt disappeared completely. My entire mental and physical abilities became fixated on the sole goal of duplicating the exact movements I had created in my mind, the movements that would keep me on the narrow and constantly changing path to safety through ferocious and life threatening violence.
After more than 3 kilometers of continuous white water and 4 x class V + rapids that I would not normally choose to run the valleys broadened and eddies sent from heaven began to re appear. I was far from out of the Mekong Gorges but I was out of “Nightmare Canyon” and that night, despite being physically exhausted, I could hardly sleep. I was happy to be alive.
The rapids over the next 2 days were absolutely relentless. One, after the other, after the other. I lost count of how many rapids I scouted and ran, how many times I looked down stream and as a non religious person still found myself asking someone upstairs to make sure that the canyons I were entering would not contain un-portagable class VI rapids of continuous white water
I estimate that while in the Kham I made first descents down some 60 class IV rapids and 23 class V rapids. At relatively high water at least 12 of the rapids were “must run” rapids with no opportunity to portage around. I fully portaged two and a half drops and made “chicken runs” (Choosing an easier and safer run around the most dangerous section of rapid rather than the more obvious yet difficult route) down many of the more treacherous sections. I thought to myself how lucky the Peter Winn expedition was to have pulled out when they did. In the narrow canyons there was often no room for large rafts to stop before taking on extremely dangerous rapids and portaging would probably be necessary around at least 16 rapids taking many days. rafts are not suitable for the Mekong Gorges.
There was only on e rapid that I defined as truly un-run-able and named it “The three sisters” after the 3 consecutive river wide holes in which the river passed through, each of which was big enough top swallow a house not to mention a kayak or raft. It took 2 hours to portage around the 3 sisters on river left and I camped in a cozy little cave sheltered by oak trees just above the drops. Useful information for anyone crazy enough to go down that canyon again.
After 2 full days without seeing a single farmer’s settlement or path I finally reached a group of mud walled huts on day 7. I was physically and mentally drained. Despite never seeing foreigners before the overwhelmingly friendly and curious Tibetans gave me 5 star treatment. The highlight of the stay besides the company was a delicious meal of Yak Yogurt with wild blueberries that managed to stain my hands for 2 days. Compared to spam and 2 minute noodles it was a feast fit for kings.
I will never forget how kind and welcoming the Tibetan people are. We in the western world can learn a great deal from their respect and hospitality towards strangers. By day eight I was approaching the border of Yunnan and was becoming impatient to get there. About 15 kilometers north of the town of Yanjing the intense gradient droop of the river subsided and the rapids decreased in difficulty from predominantly class IV – V to class III – IV. I was hammering down and made good time. I was particularly keen to reach the Northern Yunnanese town of Foshan by nightfall to enjoy my first restaurant meal in 9 days and to meet my fiancé who was flying into Zongdjian to meet me. I was tired and weary but pushed on.
Tomorrow: The scariest whitewater ever…
“This place can kill you with whitewater or kill you with beauty…”
(Photo: Courtesy Lynley O’Shea)
Have A Wetass Weekend…
The Earthist Chronicles 