The Road to Humla
Just as Karel Hynek Mácha's poem Máj belongs on the compulsory reading list for high school, the Humla Karnali should belong to the compulsory list of rivers for lovers of expedition paddling. Though I had always heard this, I thought the Humla was a mega-long river with only a few rapids and many valleys, accessible only by an expensive plane ride. It turns out I had the Humla classified quite wrong.
Our expedition begins in Kathmandu, where I meet Vojta. While we wait for the rest of our team to arrive, we do a warm-up tour, paddling the Balefi, Bhote Kosi, Tambo Kosi, and Marsyandi rivers. Only after 10 days, instead of the other three expedition members, only Bouzíno arrived. Suddenly, we were left with only three people. On a river like the Humla, I would recommend a minimum of four people, but I guess three is better than two.
According to the Nepalese, the Karnali River has three sources. The largest is the Humla Karnali, followed by the smaller Mughu Karnali, and the smallest, the Lochi Karnali. The Humla also enters the highest, making it the most traditional path to paddle the river from its “source.” It starts in Tibet near the sacred Mount Kailash, but can only be accessed in Nepal, a few kilometers above Simikot, a town to which there is no road. The upper gorges are passable at their lowest flows, typically during winter or very early in the spring. We planned our trip to Humla around the classic time, the second half of November. However, changes in weatherpatterns have extended the monsoon season by more than a month. This meant beautiful water conditions on many rivers but a high level on the Humla.
