Abseiling down a waterfall is a fairly unusual thing to be involved with but nevertheless, that’s what I recently found myself doing in New Hampshire.

Jill and I had to hike to get to the waterfall and realised quickly that the trail must be a popular one. It’s rare to see even a single park ranger at the start of a trail but you get it sometimes if people often get lost at a given trail or regularly have questions about it. This one had four. That’s right. Four. It must have been boring standing around all day but at least they had each other for company! We got started on the hike. Jill and I had packed much more than anyone else had but we’re both of the mind that it’s better to be safe than sorry, so didn’t regret the decision to throw in as many dry clothes as we did. I had to carry my camera as well though as it didn’t fit in any of my pockets. It might normally have fit but Jill wisely suggested I bring along the waterproof case I use when scuba diving. On top of that, the guides had brought along three ropes we’d use during the day and had asked for volunteers to carry them on the hike. I was the first to put my hand forward. Between the backpack, the rope and the waterproof camera case I was awkwardly holding, I had a fair bit to concentrate on other than the wet, rocky terrain we were navigating.

Despite the popularity of this particular trail (we were passed by other hikers at least 4 or 5 times), the hike was beautiful. It was one of the nicer ones I’ve been on while in the US. The trail was fairly narrow so the 12 of us (10 abseilers and 2 guides) walked in a line as we journeyed deeper in to the forest. The trail was an 8 mile loop but we’d only need to go about 1 and half miles in to reach the waterfall. The trees on either side of the trail were thick, more densely packed than they normally are and grasses could be seen on the forest surface along with all manner of other plants and undergrowth. Rocks and boulders were covered by a variety of mosses and running water could be heard off in the distance. In many places, the undulating forest path we followed was soft underfoot, pleasingly springing back under the weight of a sturdy boot. In others, massive rocks and boulders formed the trail on which we walked. Their scale was only hinted at as mud and forest shrubs meant the rocks went largely unseen.

We crossed a small wooden bridge not long into the hike. It had a railing on one side but not the other. A river flowed beneath, maybe 20 feet down. Shortly afterwards we came to the first of two small clearings in the forest where a water crossing was called for but there was no bridge to help. Most of the group made short work of the river, hopping from rock to rock, minding the water as they went. Looking back, it’s funny how gingerly most of us proceeded with that first crossing. The water was only ankle deep; even if someone had fallen in to it face first it would have been a mere drop in the ocean compared to how wet we would all be later. It doesn’t even bear comparison; at the waterfall, the volume of water passing through every second was staggering, here, the water was barely flowing at all.

That first water crossing led us to a new part of the forest with an associated gain in elevation. At various points, the roots of large trees had become part of the fabric the trail, interwoven with mud, rock and boulder. The ancient roots helped with traction on some steeper parts of the ascent, that which followed the first water crossing included. As we climbed, with dense forest to our right and a sharp drop to the left, we could see a small waterfall nearby. It was not even a taste of what lay ahead but I found it soothing and stood there for a moment, letting the sounds of the forest wash over me. We continued, up and down, gains in elevation followed by losses. Maybe 20 minutes later, we came to another uphill section but this time, rather than being the varied, dynamic forest terrain we’d become accustomed to, it was all rock. There was forest to the left and another small waterfall off to the right. Proximity to the waterfall and the many adjacent streams had given the rock a thin sheen of water with small puddles collecting in its dips and recesses. My hiking boots afforded me a good deal of grip but even with that, I could tell it was slippery and was not looking forward to the journey back when we’d be going downhill on the very same rocks.

More hiking led to a second clearing in the forest. A river widened but there was no bridge to help cross so we need to jump from rock to rock and where the rocks were too far apart, use floating logs instead. This river wasn’t much deeper than the first (it was probably the same one) but since the distance that had to be covered was larger and unstable floating logs needed to be used, crossing it was certainly more of a challenge. Large slippery rocks and awkwardly meandering forest paths followed. In the short part of the 8 mile trail we saw, a large degree of variation could be seen in the environments, terrain and hiking conditions. It was quite the journey and I almost didn’t realise what I was looking at when the final waterfall came into view. The big one.

It was 100 feet high and fed a wide forest river below. Water rushed violently off its edge down the sharp, jagged rocks that formed its face, crashing with force into the pool below. I surveyed my surroundings noting the tall trees to the right of the river and the mountain of loosely collected rocks on the left. After over an hour hiking, I was so overcome with excitement to finally be here that it took me a minute to realise how cold I felt standing there. A fine mist surrounded the waterfall, settling on all that stood before it, the power of the falling water was generating currents in the air, driving it outward away from the falls, disturbing nearby plants and greenery. The change in atmospheric pressure was so dramatic that it felt as though I’d stepped into an invisible bubble that surrounded the waterfall. The temperature seemed as though it had dropped by at least 5 degrees. I admired the waterfall, taking pictures as others listened to our guide give instructions on how to secure their ropes and caribiners. I joined them before he got to anything important then continued taking pictures and talking with the group. I ended up being the third person up.

The large, loosely collected rocks to the left had wildly varying sizes and were the only way to the top of the waterfall. It was like having a natural climbing frame in the middle of the forest. It was possible to climb up without using one’s hands but with the sharp rocks below and sudden drop to the right, there wasn’t any sense in doing so. I would have loved being here as a child.

Two ropes had been set up at the top of the waterfall, once an abseiler was done with one, the next person would start going down on the other. One of the guides set up my ropes as I waited for person two to finish their descent. Both guides were at the top belaying abseilers all day. We each had our own ropes and could control our rate of descent but they’d set up the belay just in case. The guide gave me my final instructions as the abseiler below was untying her ropes and with that, I gave one final look over my shoulder, planted my feet firmly on the rocks at the top of the waterfall, leaned back and felt the harness shift as it braced to support my weight.

As I descended, each placement of my foot was a calculated assessment based on dozens of split second decisions; the size of the rock, its gradient, the rate of water flow over the rock, coefficient of friction, amount of moss, amount of algae, how many edges does the rock have? How sharp are those edges? Which way is the water flowing over the rock? And so on. I descended sure footedly, evaluating my path and adjusting my route based on changing conditions. Others slipped at least once but I never did. I crossed the path of the falling water maybe 6 or 7 steps into the descent; it came into contact with my skin but despite the fact that I knew it was cold and that I had felt such a chill at the bottom, before I was even near the water, I didn’t feel cold. I was concentrating too much to be cold. After I’d been at it for a minute or so, my mind though still deeply engaged, had gotten used to the business of considering foot placements and evaluating the environment; it freed up enough capacity for me to truly enjoy what I was doing and fuck, it was exhilarating! The sound of the water was immense; it was soaking my boots, lower legs and forearms. This is around the point where I felt how cold the water was. I continued down, looking around often, being sure to let the stunning surroundings soak in. Close to the bottom, I reached a point where the rocks stuck out further than they had before. Getting past was no problem but because of the overhang, there was a focused torrent of water passing directly beneath. The water was falling exactly where I wanted to go and though I could have gone around slightly, avoiding most of the water, I thought “fuck it, I’m going through!” It was easily the most sudden drop in temperature my body has ever experienced. That water was fucking cold! Colder than even my experience when first seeing the falls had suggested. If I stood under that torrent for a prolonged period of time, it wouldn’t have taken long for it to cause damage to my body. Of that I’m certain. It was only a few more foot placements to the bottom and the pool being fed by the waterfall. The pool of freezing water was up past my ankles but I didn’t have any option other than to stand in it while untying my ropes. The group was very supportive and just as they’d done for the first two abseilers, I was cheered and applauded as I waded through the water back to dry land.

I should have felt really cold; I was drenched in freezing water and the cold air coming off the falls was blowing in our direction. But strangely, I felt fine. My choice of clothing (t-shirt and shorts made of thin, breathable fabrics) worked very well. The clothes dried quickly and though I felt the occasional chill, was mostly ok. Everyone else was shivering, going for their jackets or sweaters but there I was, just standing in my shorts and t-shirt. One thing that was terrible though, is how much water was in my shoes. It felt as though I was walking around with bags of water sealed around my ankles. It sloshed around with every step and the motion of the water was quite off-putting. I took my shoes off and the amount of water that came out could easily have filled two cups of water. Jill and I had already eaten lunch so we just hung around talking, with each other and the rest of the group. Jill went 6th or 7th and made the descent look just as easy as I did. She didn’t slip once and was just as quick as I was. When it cycled back around to the beginning, 5 members of the group opted to go a second time (myself included) and when it cycled around once again, 3 members of the group (myself included), went for a 3rd and final descent. The 5 members of the group all improved with their second attempt, either slipping less or making the descent in less time and the three of us that did it a third time all felt like pros by the end. I was the last one to come down and brought the ropes over when I left the pool. Everyone was dried off and ready to go so I quickly toweled off, changed my top and put on my waterproof NorthFace jacket. I wouldn’t need my camera on the way back so put it into my newly available jacket pocket. I didn’t have any rope this time either as someone else volunteered to take it so was much more comfortable hiking through the forest this time. The wet rocky obstacles I noted on the way in weren’t as much of a challenge on the way out as I’d thought they would be and we were back to the starting point of the hike about an hour and 15 minutes later. After giving back all of the equipment (we still had our helmets and harnesses), we said our goodbyes and set off back to the B&B.

Just like my India post, I’ll keep this short and sweet. I’d have loved to have included more here, especially about our fantastic 3 day trek (30 miles on undulating mountain paths through dense Nepalese jungle with a view of Everest on the third day following a 1,000 metre gain in elevation on the first), but I’ve written far too much about it to do that. This will be a photo diary as the last post was.

Jill standing by a 2,500 year old tree, close to the birthplace of Buddha.

Two Nepalese villages that we cycled through.

An animal spotting boat ride in a dug-out canoe. It sat very low in the water. We managed to spot crocodiles, rhinos and an assortment of birds that no one cared about.

Jeep Safari! Over the four hours we drove around Chitwan National Park we saw: crocodiles, lots of deer, a monitor lizard hiding in a tree, a plethora of birds (including among others: various kingfishers, peacocks, a fish eagle, a woodpecker and huge hawk eagle that was trying to carry off an injured komodo dragon. We inadvertently saved the dragon when the sound of our engine scared the eagle away. The driver of the jeep got out and helped the komodo dragon to safety with a stick. The dragon hissed at us from behind a tree as we left). We also saw: quite a few monkeys (two different species), a mother and a young rhino, more wild boar than we cared for and the icing on the cake, a sloth bear. Note that I didn’t say “sloth”. I hadn’t even heard of a sloth bear before and I’m confident that I’ll never see one again unless I come back here.

Pashpatinath, a Hindu temple (Mandir) in Kathmandu. We were here on the anniversary of Hindu God Shiva’s wedding, which is why the crowd numbered in the hundreds of thousands (though it felt like it was in the millions).

Swayambhu, a Mandir where lots of naughty monkeys like to hang out.

Pictures from our three day trek through Nepalese mountains and jungle.

This goat from Bhaktapur cracked me and Jill up. He was just chilling nonchalantly on the hood of a taxi. Unfortunately, I missed the magic moment when the taxi owner showed up and had to figure out how to get the goat off.

I was back, for the first time in over 15 years I was back in India, my ancestral home and birthplace of my mother.

I have a lot to say about the 3 weeks Jill and I spent here and the 1 week we spent in Nepal – I wrote a combined 20,000 words about them both in my travel log. Verbose perhaps, even by my usual standards but I see it as something else. Being back in India inspired me to write more because I didn’t want to miss a single detail, it’s been nearly 16 years since I was last in India, who knows how long it will be before I’m back. I captured the sights, sounds and smells of the places I went with possibly the most vivid and detailed descriptions I’ve ever written, referring to my log every now and then should keep my memories fresh and tide me over for at least a little while.

While writing my travel log, I had every intention of sharing it with others via this site and wrote it with an audience in mind but during the course of my travels, it became far too long for me to consider doing that. Instead I’ll make this an image post and walk you through our journey with a photo diary.

Walking around in Delhi with a few of our trip mates.

A very narrow bridge in Orchha. It was more than a little nerve racking when a bus came through and we were forced to walk inches from the barrier-less bridge.

The Raj Mahal, the most impressive building I saw on this trip, bar none (yes that includes the Taj Mahal).

While in Orchha, we happened across a massive wedding procession passing through town. A couple of the ladies and I decided to join in with the celebrations.

One of the many nights we got drunk with our tour leader; he seemed to have an endless supply of bewitchingly delicious rum.

That’s Vandana in the centre, a lovely woman that invited us to her home for a meal and showed us how to cook Indian food.

A picture showing us on an overnight sleeper train.

Boat ride on the Ganges, our destination was a sand island four hours downstream. There were four of us in each of three boats and a fourth boat that accompanied us that was basically a kitchen.

One of the guys on the kitchen boat busted out a cricket bat and tennis ball almost as soon as we made landfall. Most of the guys in the tour group joined in, we were playing cricket until the sun started to set. Playing cricket with Australians, on an island in the middle of the River Ganges. Now that’s something I didn’t think I’d ever do.

Early morning boat ride on the Ganges at Varanasi. This is Holy site for Hindus where many cremations are performed, on funeral pyres visible to all.

Make a wish!