Mushroom Falls
Trail boss Mike Braun is leading our small group of journalists on a “canyoning” expedition in the mountains behind Cabarete—The Extreme Sports Capital of the Caribbean—on the north coast of the Dominican Republic. We’ve been humping it over boulders for two hours, climbing over fallen trees, rappeling down waterfalls and leaping 50 feet into prehistoric pools carved by the river. This particular leg of the route is called Big Bastard, and the water below us is a good 100 feet down.
“When I first came here and saw this hole, I said, ‘Wow, that’s a big bastard,’” informs Braun.
He tells us he brought canyoning to the Americas from Europe after closing down his global adventure company that included heli-skiing in Kashmir, which he had to shutter because locals kept shooting at the choppers. He’s a cross between a German tank commander and an aging beach bum, chatting away happily while I wipe mud and blood off my wetsuit.
So we jump one at a time, hurtling at scary speed past jagged outcroppings before sploshing down into the chilly water. Then we rappel down Mushroom Waterfall where I slip and slide and scrape off some skin along the rock face before disappearing behind the torrent of water into blackness. It’s strangely quiet back in that dark void for just a few seconds. It feels like you’re falling in slow motion kinda way, followed by a slight sense of rapture upon re-entering the light. That was the best moment of the day.
The Big Bastard
The last section of the Bastard is a shallow part of the river basin where you try not to step on the slippery moss-covered rocks.
Whooosh, I slip off a rock immediately and fall on my knees into the river. My knuckles are bleeding. My thighs are giving out. I’ve pretty much had enough of the surrounding landscape by now, and my rope and backpack have fallen over the front of my head. Not my best moment.
“Stay off the green rocks,” Mike shouts from up ahead.
“Gotcha,” I yell back.
“There is no grace and dignity in canyoning,” Mike laughs encouragingly after I catch up with the rest of the group. This from a man with the ankles of a rhino.
People bandy about the word “extreme” in Cabarete a lot, but calling windsurfing or kiteboarding “extreme” is like calling golf an “active” vacation. When we finally stumbled out of the canyon after three hours, I’d honestly felt I’d pushed myself to the extreme limits. Definitely worth a few scrapes to know you can survive the Bastard on 41 year-old legs.
Since then, Mike has discovered a new route he calls Super Big Bastard. I want to say, how tough can it be? But then I remember asking myself that the first time.
You can book the Bastards through Iguana Mama, an adventure tour company located right on Cabarete Beach. They offer a similar activity called “cascading” through the 27 Falls of Damajuagua. It’s popular with the area resorts, blood loss is rare, and it’s 1,000 times easier if you think Mike’s tour is a little much.
Mike, himself, is definitely a little much.
