City of Seils

"Whats with all the Helly Hansen?"

"What do you mean? You've got to look the part!"

"Gary, we're going abseiling!"

"ohhh"

Yeap, another day and another cazy extreme adventure. This time though I'm trading in the Sykjump's brightly coloured jump suit and swaping it for a very tightly fitting wet suit with additional plastic bum guard.

Come on everyone, let's go Canyoning!

Ahh, a whole day to strip away those years, and becoming a big kid again. Jumping, falling, climbing, slipping, yep, everything you'd ever want to create a large number of bruises over your limbs, and yet strangley not care too much. We'll at the time you don't care too much, I found that give it a few hours, let your body regain it's normal temperature, and that lax attitude to pain strangely transforms itself into a compelling urge to cry while soaking in a savlon bath.
But the inevitable future pain aside, I'd been looking forward to this one for quite a while. I mean com'on, who would turn down a chance to see Vince in rubber? However I do now understand the R18 rating given to this adventure sport, not for attached danger of falling to your death, no, purely for the potential psychological damage incurred by seeing close friends and loved ones without the mask of normal clothing, worse, wrapped up cling film tight in latex, kids please stay at home!
We're embarking on this one with a couple of friends, and in true turning a pretty mundain thing like turning up at an arranged meeting point at a certain meeting time, into the most complicated thing in the world, they're late and i've been instructed to delay the departure by whatever means deemed necessary. I've opted for the "I've lost my mummy" approach, and I've reached back into my past for a dark place from which to call upon tears. Turns out there waiting on someone else who's picking up the wetsuits from the laundry(expected something more complicated), but if the girls ask, it was fine acting performance that saved they're trip.
So all gathered, and with a hop and and skip in our stride we pile into the minivan and head towards our potential doom. A little melodramatic there, I'm assured by our guide that the safety record is spotless, apart from one lady who jumped off a cliff and hurt her back, but that was due to the fact "she was old" and I guess a little more fragile than the rest of us. I later arrived at the location where this said incident had occured, and realised that it wasn't because "she was old", but more to the fact she was jumping from a very great height into no more that 2ft of water. It cast my mind back to the Oxford Times front cover, the one after the annual 6am student jumpers, the one with the the girl with her leg going the wrong way. But don't worry that jump had subsequently been taken off the itinery and been replaced instead with an adseil, so there you go no danger at all.... I think Jules summed it up best when asked if she would like to attend: "no bloody way! Can't think of anything more stupid!
Over hills and dales we speed, and then stop at a house in the Whitakare ranges(big green mountains near Auckland) where in true back to nature fashion we strip off and adone our wetsuits. One thing I like about NZ, there's none of your hang ups, the whole place still retains a no fuss, just get on with it approach to life.
So suitably attired for lying in freezing cold river water, just for inforamtion purposes, a wet suit isn't a magical piece of clothing that stops cold water being cold, it's still bloody freezing, it just stops you dying after 15mins, we amble down the hill to find our chosen river. Unfotunately our chosen river turns out to be not at the bottom of the hill, but at the bottom of a hill which is three hills over, just for information purposes, wet suits aren't a magical piece of clothing when doned give you the grace of a dolphin, they happen to be very restrictive and certainly not designed for hill walking, but what choice do we have? we've already handed over the cash, it ended up looking like a a rather surreal full length remake of March of the Penguins minus the ice and replace penguin faces with very sweaty human ones.
You would therefore have thought at the end of our hike, we would be super ready to jump straight in and cool down. One footstep into the water, and we quickly realised that we wern't ready at all, no it would require the heat accumulated from a 3 day stagger through the Sahara to convince us that getting into the river was a good idea. Toes were turning blue all around us, what the situation required was a fool hardy soul to grab the bull by the horns and lead the way, someone to show no fear, be a leader of men and just jump straight in. As me and Vince took a couple of steps nearer the back of the group a 14 year old Australian child steps forward and hurls himself downwards into the rushing water.
"It's not so bad"
Myself and Vince share a look, mmmmm! Can't exactly back down now though can we, there's women present, can't be shown up by a boy, there's the honour of men to keep intact, so together, holding hands and whimpering we lower ourselves down.
"what's it like? Julie our companion asks.
Through chattering teeth, I muster the responce " nooooot soooooo baaaddd wwhhheeeenn yyyyou ggeett iiinn!"
The two girls seem unconvinced, but what choice do they have, they've paid they're money and there's only 4 hills between us and the house, so they tentatively get on they're hands and knees, and with no thought of masking they're feelings, together they scream
"It's bloody frreeeeezzzing!"
It was bloody freezing, no doubt about it, but there's still the realisation that you've got to spend the next 5 hours or so jumping in and out of it, so you grit your teeth and you do your best to acclimatise. But with every new entry into the water the same, "bugger", shout surges through your body and the same deperate hope that sometime in the next 20 seconds or so your lungs might want to get over the shock and start to bloody work.
But 5 hours we did manage, and there was even a nice stop off for lunch, which through pure luck and I think some kind of natural selection I had to carry down the river. But in the scale of days, I have to think this one ranks up there, what more could you ask for than childish fun, companionship through stupid shared experiences and getting to see Vince in rubber!