“White Water” Rafting in Kalimpong

White water rafting in Kalimpong (one of my favorite places on the planet, so far) was more of a cruise than an adrenaline rush. I think the claim of “Class III Rapids” is huge hyperbole. While the “rapids” came frequently, they were tiny and uninspired.

I must not look like a white water rafter. My guide didn’t even want me to row. He suggested I hold onto the front of the raft when we hit a rapid and crouch down and leave the rowing to the men. I’m not adverse to having everything in life done for me. But I enjoy a good upper body workout, so I demanded an oar and took a seat on the left side of the raft.

Of all the sports I’ve tried (and I’ve tried a lot) white water rafting is the one I took to most naturally. I found this out last April in Rishikesh, where the rapids were actually rapid. I was one with my rapid when I rowed. The only things that existed were my oar and the waves. It was a meditative, yet exhilarating, experience.

Kalimpong was merely meditative. The Nepali guides sang native songs and called out to girls washing on the banks of the Teesta River. One guide was 25; the other 16. Another guy in the raft ended up falling into the middle more than once. I had to smirk at that, since they were all so concerned I’d be the weak link on our team.

I’m looking forward to getting back to Rishikesh in February for more rafting, on the Holy Ganga. I know that my greatest pleasures come from activities that combine meditation with exhilaration.