Dartmouth alum's new book takes readers plunging down the Himalaya -- by kayak

Posted 12/02/00

Wickliffe W. Walker, a member of the Dartmouth Class of 1968, is a member of the famed Explorers Club - and his new book, "Courting the Diamond Sow: A Whitewater Expedition on Tibet's Forbidden River", makes it completely clear why.

Having represented the United States in international whitewater canoe competition at the World Championships of 1965, 1967 and 1971, then at the 1972 Summer Olympics in Munich, Walker took up a new challenge in the 1980s that was not completed until nearly two decades later: an exploration of the Tsangpo River, which begins in the Himalaya Mountains.

For those not familiar with the river or the obstacles its course presents, the National Geographic Society's Adventure Press (publisher of the book) gives this background on the Tsangpo and Wickliffe's adventure along it:

"Wild, fierce and unforgettable, the Tsangpo River plunges headlong from lofty Tibet to the Indian plains 9,000 feet below, slashing its way through the deepest canyon on Earth. Shrouded in mystery since Western explorers first reached the region a century and a half ago, this magnificent series of Himalayan gorges has been called the Everest of the whitewater world; but, unlike Everest, the Tsangpo has yet to be completely explored and charted. It remains one of modern exploration's greatest challenges, as daunting - and as dangerous - as any on the planet, and the first team to descend it will join the likes of Edmund Hillary, John Wesley Powell, and Francis Chichester in the pantheon of modern adventurers.

"If anyone could accomplish the feat, Wickliffe Walker and his friends were the men. World-class paddlers all, they had pioneered expedition kayaking in the Himalaya in the early '80s, but the Tsangpo eluded their grasp. For years, they talked of returning, but not until 1998 did the dream become a reality and serious planning begin. Their ambitious project, as complex as any assault on Everest or K2, would combine trailblazing exploration, whitewater adventure, and sudden tragedy played out against the breathtaking backdrop of the Roof of the World."

Early in the book, Walker offers a closeup picture of the prospect confronting his group at the outset of their trip:

". . . where the rocketing current flowed over underwater boulders or bedrock ledges, huge holes were formed: recirculating backwashes downstream of the obstacles. All rapids have holes. Kayaks and rafts crash through the smaller ones with impunity; kayakers play and surf and hold rodeo competitions on the white flow of moderate-size ones. But those on the Tsangpo were immense, unnavigable, and deadly, the biggest 20 verticle feet in height and stretching more than a hundred feet across the river's width. Their circular flow would snatch up and recirculate a boat and paddler, and, unlike the pulsing, breaking waves, their steady, violent recirculation could tumble a boat, or log, or any floating object for uncalculable lengths of time."

Want to go along for the ride? Check your local bookstore.