Don't  expect to find the sensational kind of snaps that one usually imagines as soon as river rafting is mentioned.  During the rapids we were busy clinging on to our lives.  These snaps are from the saner moments.

This is how it looks from the top.  This might sound repetitive but none, and I repeat none, of the snaps on this page capture the true beauty of the whole experience.  Even all the snaps together couldn't do it.  Unless one has been there and done it, the experience cannot be captured on mere silver bromide.
But we are getting ahead of ourselves.  It is around 2:00 in the night, when we 'disembark' from the bus,  having journeyed from Delhi, via Hardwar.  The bus journey is an experience in itself.  Well, we are accustomed to Haryana Roadways drivers driving like the road was their fathers' and that they had an F1 vehicle at their disposal but a bus taking a bend at 30 km/hr and with total nothingness on the other side was a different experience altogether.  After some time we stopped looking out of the windows and scaring ourselves.

The place we are at is Tiger Paw, 60 Km upstream of Hardwar. It's pitch dark.  With just the dim lights of a few torches, we descend the slope to the river-bed, on all fours at times.  As we descend,  one can hear a low roar which grows louder and then after some time suddenly disappears.  We are at the beach and near our camp.  A slow, unhurried gurgling can be heard in the near distance.  We think, this better be worth it; trekking down treacherous slopes in pitch darkness, an easily forgettable bus journey and cold 10C.  Exhausted, we are soon fast asleep.
Nobody is prepared for the sight in the morning.  The white sands of the beaches, the almost transparent river flowing with a calm majestic grace, steep mountains on both sides, greenery all around... it's a bombardment on the senses which takes at least few minutes to sink in. Sometimes, even after two days in this place, one has to pinch oneself to believe all this can exist, especially after coming from Delhi.  And then the sunrise over the mountains...  Is this place for real??

Then starts the exploration of the 'river'.  Looks more like a stream.  Where our camp is, the river is quite calm and it is hard to believe that the depth of the water could easily be around 80 ft.  But what the heck.  Anything deeper than ten ft is of the same consequence.  In the far distance one can hear a low rumble.  We ask the guides whether it has anything to do with the rumble we heard as we were descending.  He says, it's the sound of the rapids,  the nearest one a mere 3 miles away.   We start preparing ourselves for the onslaught.
 

Even before we can say 'Jai Kali' we are at our first rapid .   On the trek to the rafts, a few kms from the base camp, the guide has already frightened us enough about people getting thrown out of the rafts, broken skulls, unrecovered bodies.... We hang on for dear life.
The guide keeps shouting 'left, hard forward', 'right, hard back'... but it is really everyone to their own.  The first big wave makes our raft look like an 'L', the guys in the front at a different altitude than the ones at the back.  After many twists, turns and folds we emerge...triumphant? Not quite.  A few heads are missing and so are some spectacles.   Then starts the process of getting the 'loose' guys back on to the raft.  Luckily, none of them hit any rocks.  By the time everyone is back into the raft and in their positions, comes the second rapid.  With experience now backing us, there are fewer 'casualties' this time. In fact none.  The raft behind us has not been so lucky, though.  We pick up the 'drifter' from the second raft and then 'transfer' him back when the raft catches up.  Another two rapids and we are handling the rafts like PROs.  Only the guide tells us the first one was the toughest and the rapids gets easier as one goes down.  Talk about learning curves!

Then comes another exciting part :- "Body Surfing".  People jump 'voluntarily' into the icy cold waters.  Flowing at 20 km/hr is not too boring if you take into account that the water is at about 5C with occasional rocks giving you menacing looks and topless foreigners 'sun'bathing on the beaches.  But with the numbness in your legs and the effort in avoiding the rocks, it is hard to enjoy the 'sights' on the beaches.

We 'pull over' for lunch.  Though the grub is worse than at Pilani, it tastes like it was cooked by Nala.  After a few minutes of sun-bathing we join mother Ganga on her journey again.  The rapids come less frequently now and though the river is flowing quite fast, it is the personification of calmness.   It is amazing how everyone remains silent (meditative?) after the screaming and shouting at the rapids.  Maybe we just ate too much...

We reach base-2 in the evening and climb up to the road to pick our way back to base-1.   A roadside 'dhaba' beckons and  along with the 'chai' everyone is hogging chowmein, the side effects of which, would be realised the following day.  A passing truck finally agrees to haul us.  We reach the camp just as it is getting dark.   As darkness quickly sets in, we start up a bonfire on the white sands.  No guitars this time around.   It's a lazy night with everybody recovering from whatever they need to recover from.  Someone spots something strange.  An eerie silver light approaching us.  We realise with a bit of a surprise what it is : moonlight.  Since the mountains are high above us, we cannot see the moon even though it has already 'risen'.   The moon slowly comes over the mountain top putting everyone at their romantic best.  It is time for dinner.
 

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