Canyoning and Confidence in Kochi
Canyoning and Confidence in Kochi
The one where a river almost killed her
Ever since that one random day where I suddenly got over the debilitating social anxiety that plagued me in high school and half of college (prefrontal cortex development??), I have enjoyed carrying the extra dose of confidence. For one, it keeps freaks away. I’ve been called a “trouble repellent” by a friend who has such an unthreatening, friendly aura that she regularly has strange men and sometimes animals clamoring for her attention. Second, new people are no longer intimidating. Even in Tokyo, where it takes me five times the effort to communicate something in Japanese rather than English, I no longer find people scary anymore. Interestingly, I find them kinda inviting, like a stranger is just a Christmas present waiting to be unwrapped. Third, I will try just about anything. On the day to day, this mostly extends to food (Raw chicken sashimi anyone? Sichuan numbing peppers? Both are delicious.) and I rarely regret it, but recently I did say Yes to something that had me surviving rather than thriving.
It has been a very, very long time since I have felt like my life was genuinely in danger, but I felt true fear when I tried canyoning in Kochi prefecture’s Nakatsu River last week. To give some context, I thought I knew what canyoning was. I’m a fairly avid hiker and on river trails I’ve seen tour groups trussed in climbing equipment and wetsuits wading through waist high water and rappelling down waterfalls. It all seemed pretty low key, even relaxing. So, when my boyfriend suggested we try it on our upcoming trip to Niyodogawa Town, I easily agreed without ever reading our tour’s fine print.
I think my concerns began when we arrived at the guide’s office, and he offered us the chance to change our booking to pack rafting. “We can still do the canyoning tour, but you will have to swim more. The water is high because of the rainy season. You’re not afraid of heights, right?” Well, he gave us the choice so it must still be safe enough to try it.
When we got to the river, I realized that whatever canyoning I thought I had seen before was not what I was about to do. Before our afternoon tour, we had walked a hiking trail that snaked around the sheer cliffs of Nakatsu Gorge several meters above the river. Multiple times, I peered down into the roiling white water crashing its way over river boulders and thought, “I wonder how anyone could survive that.” I’m sure you can guess where I’m going with this story.
Needless to say, we descended the side of the gorge and realized what was happening when the guide jumped straight in the whitewater and was carried away. He aimed for a rock, allowed the current to sweep him up, and perched on top, calling for us to follow him like a mother bird calling for her chicks to jump out of the nest for the first time. At that moment, I realized what he meant by swimming.
We spent the next two hours being beaten and pulled by the current. Although the guide would tell us how to angle our bodies to work with the current, I could never quite get the hang of riding it. When currents split or changed direction, it was an art to time the angle of your body in the direction you wanted to go. One I did not master. Not to mention we were more often jumping off the waterfalls we ran into instead of rappelling down them. “Ok, you need to jump exactly where I’m pointing. Where the water is bubbling up by that rock. Don’t land too close or you’ll get stuck in the waterfall’s barrel current. But don’t land there either,” he would say pointing, “because there’s a shallow rock hiding underneath.” I don’t know about you, but I was never a track star. I had no guarantee my body was going to follow his instructions to the letter on top of the raging current and my shaky, fear-stricken legs. There was no way out either except for the designated entry and exit points placed along the route. Once you started, the only way was forward.
The last straw was when he took us to an outcropping that formed a cave behind the largest waterfall we had encountered yet. The tons of water pounding down before us was deafening and incredible. It was less incredible when he told us we would need to jump into the waterfall’s pool below and somehow avoid getting pushed under. “Also, there are some really shallow rocks here so be careful. Jump far and aim diagonally across the pool. Let the current take you to that rock there.” He pointed.
That was it for me. “Can we skip this one?” In answer, he just handed me a rope to hold onto as a guide in the water. He went first, cannonballing and swimming across to the checkpoint. Holding his end of the rope, he gestured for me to follow. After a pregnant three seconds of internal debate, I finally jumped. Despite his warning, I jumped right on top of the rocks hidden beneath the surface. The panic from hearing the thundering roar of the falls right next to me under the water drowned out any pain I might have felt from smacking my knees so hard.
I resurfaced alive and somehow not a casualty of the world’s most intense waterfall meditation bootcamp. The rest of the tour was thankfully calm and relaxing. We free floated down the now-gentle current and admired the views of the smooth, towering gorge cliffs on either side. Truthfully those last ten minutes of the tour were what I thought I was signing up for from the start but any chance to relax my tense muscles and rapid heartbeat at this point were welcomed.
The tour shook my confidence a bit. I’ve been able-bodied all of my life and since moving to Japan and becoming more active outdoors, I trust my body to be able to handle what I ask it to. I have good balance, I can run and climb fairly easily, I can join a casual game of soccer or basketball (although my eye-hand coordination could use a lot of work). I know my abilities.
This river was outside of my abilities. Sure, I escaped relatively unscathed, although with some nasty hematomas on my knees as a souvenir, but it has been a long time since I felt like I might really fail at something. It just served as a reminder to me that you can’t get too comfortable being comfortable. Even with all the confidence in the world, something will inevitably come along to shake it. This doesn’t mean you should stop seeking confidence. But rather when an opportunity shows your weaknesses, be humble and allow it to fertilize your growth. I realize now that I might need to step it up a bit from now on in terms of intentionally challenging myself. Test of courage or not, as soon as the guide told us about a nearby craft brewery on the drive back to the tour office, I made my boyfriend drive us there immediately on getting changed. I needed some alcohol while tending to my wounds and damaged pride.
The last thing I want to do is make it sound like this tour guide did a poor job. Actually, I think if the guide were anything less than the expert he clearly is, I would’ve had a much worse time. If you find yourself in Japan’s Kochi prefecture, check out Niyodogawa Town. There you’ll find Niyodo Adventure, which runs canyoning and packrafting tours in the Nakatsu and Niyodo rivers. Although we went with a Japanese-speaking guide, they also offer tours in English as I believe the owner married a Canadian and also employs a guide from New Zealand. I have to say, I can’t really recommend going during the rainy season (mainly the month of June), as the water was really high and rough, but even so the guide knew the river right down to the individual rocks and hazards hidden below. I imagine that during the busy season in August, the tour would feel more exciting than life-threatening. Stay alive, my friends.
XOXO,
Amanda
Amanda’s Recs for Niyodogawa Town
Niyodo Adventure: The topic of today’s post and truly an extraordinary experience. They did a fantastic job.
Yunomori: Our hotel where we stayed for two nights. The location was fantastic with river views right outside our room’s mini sunroom, the Nakatsu Gorge trailhead a two minute’s walk away, and the Niyodo Adventure guide office a four minute’s walk away. The Japanese-style room we had was gorgeous and comfortable and you’ll take your baths in a clean, rustic onsen.
Kissa Maruhachi: The cafe where we had our breakfast each morning, just a five-minute drive away from the hotel. The owner was so friendly, chatting with us about the town’s community and things to do. Her hot sandwich morning set was so delicious, we ordered it both mornings.
Blue Brew Taproom: The brewery we patronized after our river ordeal. The beer is house brewed with water sourced directly from a nearby spring. The owner is an LA native who started his beer business in Kochi on the advice of a Japanese friend who tasted what he was making in America. Now, his dream is to revitalize this dying small town by inviting new businesses and energetic young people to move in. Although you will definitely want to stay forever after visiting Niyodogawa Town, try the beer even if you are just passing through. It was delicious :)
If you ever visit Japan, I can’t stress how much I love all the small towns that tourists typically ignore. Even with a language barrier, I have never met people who are so friendly and excited to introduce visitors to where they live. Not to mention you can try some delicious local specialties you won’t find even in Tokyo and experience true Japanese hospitality. Cities like Tokyo and Kyoto have severe over-tourism so if you are thinking of traveling here, put in the extra effort and research a small town to visit too. If you’re like “Amanda! All these websites are in Japanese! I don’t know where to start!” Calm down. Send me a DM on Substack or Insta and I’ll help you out ;)