Its day 18 of our journey, day 9 on the river, for the last 4 days we have struggled to make more than 10 miles each day. The river is relentless, presenting awesome whitewater in a fantastic landscape of dense jungle and sheer canyon walls. The kayakers have run exciting lines and the raft has been a complete bitch. Don?t ever believe anyone who says there might not be much action on a river averaging 25 ft / mile, we?re all buggered!

The raft has been dragged round, over and under house sized boulders, lined through class 5 chicken shoots and imaginatively paddled down rather large rapids. The kayakers have been doing two descents on one trip, first the kayak, then running up to try their luck in the raft. According to the GPS we have only 24 miles to go, round our fire tonight we are tucking into the last of the food, there is only mystery cans of meat left, and after the last experiment with that, everyone would rather go hungry!?

Back in the fall of 2002 Dave Alardice sent us an email asking if we would be keen for a trip to Myanmar (Pronounced ? Me an mar), Me and where? Was my initial thought, then the brain kicked in and I remembered that Myanmar is also and probably more commonly known as Burma. As with all precisely planned expeditions, I replied to Dave, with a ?Sure, when, how, where?? type email

A few months later Dave was in touch, it was looking good for a trip in Feb 03, Dustin Knapp, Steve Fisher would also be coming along with Mike Abbott and myself.
It then struck me that I really didn?t know where or what we were talking about; the name of the river, the state of the country, where the hell is Myanmar anyway. Time to get on the net and see what we can find out. ?Not much? was the answer. Geographically it?s easy, you will find Myanmar between India and Thailand, with a coast on the Bay of Bengal and boarders also with Laos and China. If you think about it in relation to rivers and mountains, it touches the eastern end of the Himalayas, and is the drainage of the next two rivers east of the Tsangpo. The Ayeyawady (Irrawady) and Thanlwin (Salween) rivers both start life in China (TIBET), carve their way south through the Himalayas and become the veins of life across the low land areas of Myanmar. It was the headwaters of the Ayeyawady we were aiming at, way up at the top of Myanmar in Kachin State.

By the time Mike and I left NZ, we knew we were heading to the main headwater called the Mykha, the section was supposed to be about 150 miles in length, we would have a raft, we were flying in by helicopter and the river maxed out at about 45 feet per mile, but was mostly 12 ? 24. These figures put us in a relaxed, holiday - expedition type mode so we decided to take river play boats in the form of Pyranha I3?s.
We had spent a month in NZ on tour and reading the Lonely Planet guide to Myanmar, but by the time we boarded the plane the main facts on the mind were the 52 species of poisonous snake, there was a shit load of dense unexplored jungle for the snakes to hide in and the political situation was not advantageous to foreigners, oh and don?t talk about politics! Half the guide book was dedicated to questioning your reasons to go to Myanmar, highlighting its poor human rights record, military dictatorship and repulsion of Western ideals. There were pros and cons to visiting the country, on one hand you would be funding the regime but on the other hand you would be helping global awareness of the present situation. Burma, or Myanmar has one mixed up history or rulers, intruders, kings and queens, all very confusing but worth reading on. For us, with our kayaks firmly in the hold of the aircraft, our minds had to be open, the government was cutting the red tape and for the first time allowing kayakers to visit its locked away mountain kingdom.


Arriving at Yangon Airport we were welcomed by a government official and liaison from the travel agent we were working with. Bypassing the paperwork and obligatory tourists fees we swept the crowd and we bustled off in a waiting car, our bags were loaded and the kayaks hulled away in a hotel van. Things were looking good, we were then dropped off at the Inya Lake Hotel, which the guide book had informed us was the second most expensive hotel in town, things were getting better!

In the following couple of days we met our contact, Brett Metzler, owner of ?Balloons Over Bagan?, been shown around town, seen the highlights and found the underworld. The city of Yangon, previously known as Rangoon is another busy Asian city, cars, trucks, traffic jams, run down shanty areas, fenced off high society, temples and shrines scattered about. Whilst driving around town we noticed there were no motorbikes, now this was strange. Apparently the Premier had been parading through town when a young buck screamed past on a flash bike, this touched the Premiers ego, so he band motorbikes in the city. To get us further in tune with the state of affairs, our driver pointed out that all the banks were currently shut, the ruling party had just cut the cash supply. Business?s were about to run out of cash to pay their employees, the exchange rate had gone crazy and there could be a riot outbreak any day, time to get out of town and hope it is still there when we get back!

From Yangon we were to fly to the northern most region of Myanmar, Kachin State. This would be a two-stop flight with the one airline the guidebook had suggested we should avoid. From Putao a military chopper would then carry us over a mountain range to our proposed starting point, a village named Dazungdam. This would put us 150 river miles from road the head that could get us to Myitkyina (Me jee na) from where which we could fly back to Yangon, job done, simple plan, but this is the Mykha Valley, which in local tongue means ?Impossible River? and also ?Mother? of rivers.

As with any mission in Asia that is supposed to involve a helicopter there was an air of skepticism on arrival at Putao airport. A phone call confirmed that the bill for the chopper would be $52,000 more than our budget allowed. This was not the Tsangpo, we had not turned up with our own overpriced SUV?s, this was a Kiwi operation, run on a shoe string by the seat of the pants, we would be walking to the put in the old school way.


Its now the evening of the fifth day since leaving Putoa, we are in a tiny village on the banks of the Myhka River. Its pitch black and pissing down with rain, we?re soaked through, covered in mud and the last of our porters is still to make it down the muddy slope from the pass. We have been caught out in the dark, a nice days hiking turned into a candle light mud bath. The skies opened and turned the smooth path to a slippery slop surrounded by a jungle so dense you daren?t stray for fear of finding one of those 52 species of snake. Since leaving Putoa we have traveled a day in a truck, spent two days on bone jarring tractors, hired a small family of Rawang porters and hiked two days, passing into the Myhka valley. We still aim to hike four more days to Dazungdam and get us back on track with our original plan. Even though everyone is covered head to toe with mud moral is high, our porters have been laughing the whole way down the hill, even the guy who was dragged through the jungle trying to keep hold of an escaping kayak. It has to be said these are not the largest porters in the world, and we are wondering where all the strong young men are. So far our party seems to consist of a granny and granddad, a couple of mums, a huddle of teenage girls and a few cocky young lads. It like a family outing, they are so excited to see white people and they really want to know what the kayaks are for. In the morning we will get our first views of the river, the volume and characteristics of the river will be there to see and we will formulate our plans from that.

The following day the skies were clear, the river was running at a guessed 4,000 cfs crystal green, emerging from a sheer bedrock canyon and passing the village in a open class 3 boulder garden. This put us in good stead, always nice that the first time you see the river it is actually navigable. We now have four days hike to Dazungdam, passing from village to village on the route to the
National Park that surrounds Mt Kakhabarazi, the highest peak in the country. A further 3 days to the north would take you to the India and 8 days east would get you to China.

As we travel it seems custom is to offer an empty house to shelter in each night. The locals are amazing, almost un-spoilt by the outside world, affected by nothing but the weather and land. Every time we enter a village they usher us to a house that is either empty and our porters spread out though the village, they seem to all be related somewhere along the line and the village headsman comes to visit to find out about the outside world. The major topic of interest is the National Park that has recently been announced in this area. The way of life here is small-scale slash and burn farming, hunting of deer with crossbow and valley trading of rice and grain. There is a trade route down from Tibet (China) bringing down salt, that same route takes out deer musk and other rare commodities of value to the Chinese. The government have now called the area a national park and told the people they can no longer hunt or farm. With little further information they are a little confused how they will survive in the future. With our local guide Ah yin there have been long discussions where we try to explain the idea of national parks and eco tourism and that if the projects are run well in future years they may well find themselves running a trekking guest house, guiding tourists round the deer and monkey trails and maybe even guiding rafts one day. The elders looked skeptical, but appeared to understand what we?re on about, their future though will largely be a result of decision making by the ruling party.

It is now day 10 of our journey and time to start going with Gravity instead of fighting it. Last night we arrived at Dazungdam, greeted by the entire village and entertained by the village chief in the smokiest house so far. Having acquired a few flea bites overnight, the raft has now been rigged, kayak gear pulled out and the locals are looking more confused than ever. The river gradient has increased a little in the last few days of hiking and is looking similar to the Marsyandi in Nepal. Class 3 and 4 boulder garden rapids interspersed with the odd bedrock ledge drop within the occasional sheer sided canyon.
Time to load up, pay up and start the first descent of the Myhka River. The porters and locals are running for ring side seats at the first exciting looking rapids, they are yet to be convinced we will survive the cascading drops and waterfalls they have lived to fear. Our plan was to load the raft for the journey and use the kayaks to find the best way down, be self sufficient and camp on the unreachable untouched beaches beside the river. For the first day though due to gradient of the river, rustiness of the guide (Dave) and the lack of paddling crew, we decided to use the porters to get our dry gear a half days hike down the valley This would be a warm up for everyone and would allow plenty of time for filming and photo shoots. Dave was well out of practice, having spent far too long in an office organizing rafts trip instead of being on them, his judgment was a bit off. Pat our Australian contingent, was looking a little worried as the little blue raft ping-ponged its way down the river, vigilantly chased by the boys in kayaks.

Leaving the amazed villagers of Dazungdam to what they were doing before we arrived, the little blue raft picked up the rest of the gear and the whole team drifted off, passing 3 days hike in a matter of hours, Ah Yin was now the first Myanmar Rafter, dressed up in unfamiliar attire and holding the ropes for dear life!

Day 2 on the river started before day one finished, it has rained all night and everyone who thought it would be nice to sleep out was soaked. This is supposed to be dry season, but Ah Yin informed us the Myhka Valley is the wettest place on earth. We descended various rapids and passed hidden bedrock gorges past where we had hiked into the valley five days previously. The jungle down here was unbelievable, so dense, such a rich green and so alive, the river itself was teaming, shoals of fish you could almost reach down and scoop out for dinner. On the approach to each rapid the kayakers were transfixed by the passing bed, Zooting (fish spotting down clear fast approach rapids), needless to say the directions for the raft were occasionally passed on a little late leading to some exciting moments, Ah Yin appeared not be the strongest swimmer in Myanmar. That day we passed a flooding tributary which doubled the volume and upped the stakes. The valley characteristic was becoming quite imposing, steep valley sides draped in dripping forest surrounded sheer sided, slimy canyons. The topo map suggested the gradient would be around 12 ft per mile, which would suggest the rapids should not be too powerful, but there were to be a few surprises down this ?Mother? of rivers.

On day 3 we had been making good headway, drifting pools leading to large, but easy rapids, videos were out, cameras snapping away and some amazing play waves surfed. About midday we rounded a corner to be presented with an entire village awaiting us on a beach. No joke, dancing girls were out, tea set at a table and best threads being worn by the important folk in town. This was Ridum Village and apparently they had been set up like this for a week waiting for us, their village radio was down and they had lost track of our whereabouts on the great vine. Excepting a basket of eggs we left them too it and set about our mission, we still had more than 100 miles to go and limited food to do it with. A humorous flip woke us from a few miles of drifting and brought us to where the fun was about to kick in, the next 40 miles was supposed to be around 25 ft per mile, which although twice what we had coped with for the last few days, should not be too powerful.

We guessed the 40 mile section of 25 ft per mile might take 2 maybe three days. On the upper section we had managed a 20 mile day, so with increases volume and speed we should cover more ground and have some fun rapids on the way?
Wrong! On day 6 on the river we were all swearing and cursing the raft as we unloaded to portage the 5th huge rapid that day. For the last 2 days we have struggled to cover more than 7 miles a day and have encountered rather more action than anticipated! The river has been amazing, consistent and is still growing, we have passed several tributaries equal in size and we are now faced with 15,000 cfs or more. The valley has cut deep into the earth, baring 1000 ft granite walls and exposing a polished, contorted riverbed. The high water mark sits 40 or so ft above the current level, indicating monstrous monsoon flows. The rapids have become predictable, huge in size and a pain in the arse for the raft. Scouting is obligatory and portaging a nightmare, what takes a few seconds to kayak can be a matter of hours for the raft as we negotiate a sneak line, line the thing round terminal drops and drag the bugger over sieves and house sized boulders. Despite our state of mind right now, we have run some amazing white water in the raft, the kayakers have been paddling down, then running back up to add power to the raft crew. Dave is still not quite onto it and has been flung from the boat several times. At one point Pat was a sea anchor, hanging off the boat in the tow-back of a humongous pour over, I was prying his hands off the rope so we would not be dragged into a absolute pounding, sacrifice the few to save the masses, type situation, Pat was not sold on that theory and managed to get back in as we teetered on the brink of doom. With the other kayakers waiting like vultures downstream we managed to avoid the pounding and paddled of to the next surprise.

Day 9 on the river
This is becoming a bit of a joke, dead flat pools that require paddling, ominous horizon lines with mist arising from below. We have acquired standard procedure, kayakers drift ahead and signal which side the raft should pull over. Ropes are pulled out, and the team clambers around the house sized boulders to view the imposing rapid and work out the solution, the kayaks run the meat, photos taken, video rolling, the boys are having fun. Ah Yin has meanwhile started walking with the camera boxes as soon as we pull over, he has no intention of being on the raft through any large rapid we might be able to run. He was ejected into a pit of doom this morning and took a hell of a swim; he wants out and has been very quite in the past few hours.
Dave is still convinced he can guide, Pat has given up worrying, just tucks in for the ride. The little blue raft though has been amazing, loaded low and heavy it has passed through some mammoth sized holes fully submerged, its density carrying it through to the calm below, the crew desperately trying to avoid being swept off for a potential pounding. Pulling over to camp dark is approaching, but we are pushing to cover ground, the GPS says we have only 23 miles to go and we should be out of the steeper section already. Much discussion has surrounded the topo map and the state of affairs on the river, 25 ft per mile, should not be this hard, maybe there is a contour missing. It is however the way it is and although hard work is amazing to be here. Round the campfire tonight we are exhausted, joking about what may lay ahead, the terminal, walled in, must-run, un-scoutable gorge from hell. We all took on that kind of gorge last year and don?t intend to do it with a raft! Our food supply is almost out, just the tins of mystery left that no one is really keen of testing; Ah Yin has not said a word all night!

Day 19 ? day 10 on river
Our prayers seem to have been answered, after setting off this morning the river seemed to take on new form, the rapids were longer, drawn out and actually run able. Could this be it, could we have made it? We continued for a few hours, cutting down the miles to the road head. A substantial downstream breeze picked up and with a tarp spinnaker from the front of the raft we reached 6 or so knots on the flat between rapids. Signs of relative civilization appeared as we neared the road head in the form of Chinese loggers. This was a sad sight after traveling through such pristine and untouched land, a fresh road scared the valley downstream a train of ponies hulled lumber off to waiting trucks. This is the sign of things to come, the area is so rich, in gold, gems and timber, roads and destruction will soon push up the valleys followed by industry and businessmen. For us this finished a chapter, we had traveled more than 150 miles of amazing river, hard as parts had been, we have been honored to be the first white water explorers to be allowed into Myanmar and hope this will lead to many future adventure. Our report and documentary will be additional information in the development of the National park projects in Myanmar.

From the road head at Laugkhang we found the first beers for 19 days, the night was long, the locals left in bewilderment as the strange white guys danced round the streets, drank copious amounts of Myanmar?s own beer and hired a local beautician to give them a cut throat shave. The following day a 12 hour jeep drive from hell, covering a mere 70 miles delivered us to Myitkyina, where we the could fly back to Yangon


The expedition was made possible by the generosity, vision and help of Brett Metzler ? Balloons Over Bagan and the Myanmar Govt. Dave Allardice from Ultimate Descents International
Thanks also to
Thai and Japan Airways for help with luggage
Mont Bell for camping equipment.


The expedition surpassed all Expectations - unbelievable untouched jungle, amazing people and surprisingly difficult whitewater. The Myhka May well be a ?Mother? of rivers, but after all, it was not impossible.
No one who could visit this area and fail to be impressed with how beautiful and untouched they will find it ,,,, for now!

Personal thanks to:
Pyranha Kayaks
Robson
HF
Teva
Playboater

The Maykha team consisted of
David Allardice (NZ - team leader)
Allan Ellard (UK)
Dustin Knapp (USA
Steve Fischer (SA),
Mike Abbott (NZ),
Pat O'Keefe (AUS).
Ah Yin - local guide. After this trip Ah Yin no longer aspires to be a river guide.