Dustin is the purple helmet; Laura is the dark greenOur last big adventure in New Zealand was a really fun day of rafting the Rangitata River gorge deep in the Canterbury plains of the south island. The section of river we paddled included two sets of Class 5 rapids (which in laymen’s terms translates as “you’ll probably wet yourself when you paddle this rapid but technically it’s still safe.”) The only rapid more dangerous than Class 5 is (you guessed it!) Class 6, which you paddle only when you have a death wish and/or gills.
I actually rafted the Rangitata six years ago when I was backpacking around NZ, and I really liked both the river and the rafting company that has exclusive access to the river thanks to a convenient marriage by the company’s owner to the daughter of the man who owns the 26,000 acre sheep station that the river runs through. The rafting company has a humble little lodge near the river where backpackers can spend the night and chill out before hitting the river the next day. We opted for the overnight stay, and after saying farewell to the Stray bus and Ricky forever (!) earlier that afternoon, the rafting company picked us up and drove us out to the lodge for the evening. There were only six of us staying at the lodge that night (most people who raft come in as day-trippers from Christchurch), and it was so relaxing and peaceful to be out there. No drunk puking backpackers, no cars or city noises — just the six of us hanging out on a big sheep ranch in the mountains on a beautiful summer evening. So nice.
The next day the masses arrived (I think there were 35-40 of us on the river that day), and we all suited up and headed to the river. Our raft guide was Ben, a man who has been leading rafting trips since the 1980s and who may be the happiest person in the southern hemisphere. Joining us on the raft was our friend Rob (who’d been on our Stray bus for the last week), and two British newlyweds, Charlie and Anna (the latter of whom was my British doppelgänger).
Dustin and I ended up at the front of our raft, which was definitely the wettest part of the raft and probably the most fun as well. As most people on Facebook know by now, our trip down the river ended somewhat dramatically when I went backwards, ass-over-teakettle into the river while we were “surfing” a rapid near the end of the trip. I had temporarily moved to the back of the boat to let Rob try sitting up front (where the action was supposed to be). One minute I was on the raft and the next I was doing a backward roll into the freezing cold river.
Note my floating green helmet and the absolute lack of concern on my raft.When I popped up to the surface after being jostled around underwater a bit, I was sure everyone would be freaking out, feverishly trying to get me out of the very angry whitewater and back onto the happy red raft. Instead I found no one looking my way — in fact, no one even noticed I‘d fallen out (except Ben, who probably quickly surmised I wasn’t in any real danger and went back to helping everyone surf the rapid.) I later found out that my dear husband only realized I was no longer on the raft when Ben yelled up to him “Um, Dustin, where’s Laura?”, and turned back to see an empty spot on the raft where his new bride had once been. My long-married friends tell me this is pretty typical husband behavior. :)
We ended up splurging and buying the DVD of photos that the rafting company’s official photographer had taken of us that day. He got some great shots, including the one above of me floating away from our raft while everyone else paddled on in total ignorance. You can check out the all of the pics in our Rangitata Rafting album. All in all, it was a great day on the water and the perfect way to end a fantastic month of adventures in New Zealand!