Canyon echoes and river travel

A paddleboarding and wild cooking adventure through the canyons of Catalonia’s Congost de Montrebei National Park | Photography by Lisa Paarvio; climbing photography by Adria Martinez

Scrambling down the steep slope, our heavy packs force us to choose our footing with care. At the bottom, river mud is baked and cracked on the surface, but fragile and insubstantial. Our first steps break through, sinking to our knees occasionally.

Leaving some essential snacks with the river team, I shoulder my pack, departing on foot to our planned rendezvous. Ahead of us lies the stunning Congost de Montrebei National Park. As I hike uphill, I can hear the whistling of air being pumped into paddle boards. Dancing around the team is Eko, a massive branch clutched in his jaws, pleading for someone to play with him.

I’m barely at the edge of the canyon before I hear shouts of joy from high above. A hundred metres away on the Aragonese side of the canyon, ribbons of green and orange flicker in the sunlight. The climbers, hidden in the various folds and curves of the wall. Soon, many of the climbing areas will be clear of human voices, instead a refuge for a host of nesting vultures and eagles.

Deeper into the canyon, the cliff face curves over my head, as the path narrows. Wire cables are anchored to the wall, providing reassurance and a lifeline for those who fear the void mere metres away. Far below, the water turns into glorious shades of Prussian Blue as the sunlight finally clears the ridgeline.

Snippets of Catalan words echo up the walls from the river. Voices blending together, becoming muddled, their original meaning lost. Far below me, moving at deceptive speed, the SUP team dip their paddles in rhythm.

The trail widens, and bends towards the forest again; I turn to stare in awe at the beauty of the landscape. This rough hewn hiking track, constructed by hand, pales in comparison to the majesty of the canyon. Its walls carved into wondrous shapes, all smooth lines and curves, banded with colour. The bands displaying geological forces and timelines beyond most of our comprehension.

Unfortunately this beautiful landscape, like so many others are in danger. All around are the signs of massive drought, none more stark than the water level. Where, normally, the river rises almost to the forest edge, now it’s almost 20 metres lower. For those who still think climate change doesn’t exist or have an impact on our landscapes and livelihoods, just go to the areas most affected by the changes. Here, in this gorge, the river levels are down. On the other side of the planet, whole islands are about to be consumed by a sea that has risen less than a metre. Now imagine what a 20-metre sea level rise would mean for billions of people.

With the river far below its normal level, I descend on a fixed rope to a floating pontoon, anchored in a cove. I gingerly place my backpack on the tandem SUP, our food for the journey carefully cached inside. As Chuan paddles us out into the slow current, we hear a splash behind. A sleek dark shape flows underneath, chasing carp in the depths.

We find a giant wave of stone, formed into a small cave around the next corner. The perfect place for our lunchtime refuel. Firing up the stove, and unpacking insulated containers, we soon have our simple tapas of Trinxat.

While cooking, some of the team is at the river’s edge, filtering water for the next leg of the journey. Bellies full, hydrated, and water bottles topped up, the team deposit me on the bank once more to continue my hike.

As the sun wanes, I’m outside the national park, waiting for the team at the river’s edge. But something has changed. This morning the river was placid, slow moving, shifting in colour from clear to green to light blue. Now it’s grey brown, with tiny rapids starting to form. Far upstream, one of the power companies has opened sluices, the currents carrying mud, stones and small bits of debris. Then the call comes over the radio.

The team has had to beach their SUPs far downstream, unable to paddle against the increased current. With the water levels far below the norm, between the team and I now lie kilometres of soft mudflats. Post-holing and crawling through hip-deep mud, while dragging a 20 kilo SUP is exhausting work. What should have been an easy paddle now becomes an adventure. For now, my job is to check in with the team at regular intervals to make sure they’re safe, and to have food and water ready for when they arrive.

Hours later, they round the corner, on the opposite side of the river. We’re only 30 metres apart, but first they have to ferry glide across a much faster current. With faces and hands streaked with dried mud, the team pull their paddle boards up the last few metres and crumple to the ground. Chests heaving, but with mile wide grins, they flip over onto their backs, elated.

Tonight we feast on slow-cooked Catalan stew, and sleep under moonlight, ready for whatever tomorrow brings.

Recipes

Trinxat

Ingredients

1 head cabbage, cleaned, cut into 4
1kg potatoes, peeled and diced
8 cloves garlic, finely chopped
2 tsp black pepper
1 tsp nutmeg
Sea salt
Olive oil

Optional:

4 fatty bacon slices, finely diced
1 leek, finely diced
Baby lettuce leaves to serve on the trail

Method:

In a big pot, bring salted water to the boil.
Cook the cabbage for 10 minutes.
Add the potatoes and cook for another 20 minutes.
Drain and mash together roughly.
Season with salt and pepper to taste.
Allow to cool slightly.

In a frying pan, heat up a little oil.
Add the garlic slices, cook for 1-2 minutes.
Add the mash and fry until there’s a good colour to the potatoes.
If you’re using bacon, add it after the garlic but before the mash.
Serve on a plate with Spanish Jamon, grilled black pudding or Bottifarra.
If you leave out the bacon, this is a great dish to chill then have on the trail for a hot lunch as it doesn’t have any animal fat.

Slow-cooked rabbit stew

If you don’t like rabbit, you can replace it with lamb or goat.

Ingredients:

1 whole rabbit, cut into 8 (ask your butcher to do this)
Or
1.2 kg rabbit loin (left whole), plus 1 whole roasted chicken carcass
4 tbsp olive oil
8 cloves garlic, peeled
4 banana shallots, peeled and quartered
1 leek, cleaned and diced
1 jar roasted tomato puree
1 jar grilled red peppers
2 large potatoes, peeled and diced
4 carrots, peeled and sliced
1 glass red wine
1.5 litres good vegetable or chicken stock
Sea salt
4 tsp ground black pepper
4 tsp smoky paprika

To serve:
Pimentos de padron, roasted and salted

Method:

In a large frying pan heat the olive oil.
Season the rabbit with salt and 1 tsp black pepper.
Fry the shallots, garlic and rabbit until the rabbit is lightly caramelised.
Spoon into a slow cooker set to medium.
If you’re using rabbit loin and chicken carcass, add both to the cooker.

If you don’t have a slow cooker, use a large stockpot, set on the lowest heat setting.
Add the rest of the ingredients to the cooker/stockpot.
Simmer for 6 hours until the rabbit is falling apart.
Allow to cool then remove as many bones as possible as rabbit has a lot small bones which can be a choking hazard.
When cool, store in the fridge if eating at home and reheat the next day.

If you want to eat this meal on the trail:

When cool, transfer the rabbit to insulated food containers (with the lids off) freeze hard overnight.
Cap with the lids, and take with you on the trail.
A good insulated food container should keep the stew frozen for 5-6 hours, so on a full days hike, it should be thawed by dinnertime.