The team :
- Mario and Manuel Stecher, twin brothers, 33 Germany
- Valentin Illichmann, 18, Germany
- Nicolas Fayol, 34, France
- Stephan Pion,France
- Gilles ReboissonFrance, photographer and paddler of the so-called safety kayak
We all realised that the adventure in Montenegro would be incredibly exciting. But we were less sure that the journey there would be an adventure in itself. So we arrive at the border with Bosnia in the late afternoon and are asked for our green papers. I'm behind the wheel, Valentin, 18 years old, have only had my driving licence for a few months and therefore definitely know what you have to carry in your car. A "green paper" is certainly not one of the documents you have to carry. After a few discussions, moments of shock and the question: "Have we forgotten an important document and does the journey end here?", a border guard with bad German helps us out. Mario gives him 30 euros in cash as requested and 10 minutes later we have our "green paper". Lucky for us. To clarify, the missing document is a confirmation that we entered via an official border. It's like a visa only for the car.
From there, country roads, or rather potholes with the rest of a road around them, lead us to our base camp. The bombed-out houses and the regular appearance of mine warning signs at the side of the road give us an idea that we are entering a part of Europe that none of us knew. Camp Grab, right on the border, is the best and best-known accommodation for travelling along the Tara.
The next morning, we meet our French team mates for the first time. Nico is an experienced rafting guide and extremely good stand-up paddler, Stephan is one of the best kayakers in the world and Gille is an extremely good kayaker and the most experienced in expeditions. After a short period of getting to know each other, the team already works like clockwork and we act together as if we were old friends. That will certainly come in handy on such an extreme endeavour.
We go through the rough packing list together and stow everything in our Ortlieb dry bags:
- Warm change of underwear
- Sleeping bag
- Sleeping mat
- Knives
- Lighter
- Headlamp
- Shoes
- Tarpaulin
- Food for at least 5 days
- First aid
- Spare paddle
- Gas cooker
- Replacement cartridge
As we lift the fully packed bags for the first time, we exchange surprised glances: it is immediately clear to everyone that we are all wondering the same thing - what happens if the 80 cm wide board with the incredibly heavy luggage capsizes. In an emergency, will we be able to turn the board the right way round in a rapid and make it manoeuvrable again? After lunch and loading the trailer, Dimitri, the owner of the camp, sets off with us on the almost four-hour drive to the start of our tour, the source of the Tara.
Nowhere are there more poisonous snakes than in Tara Canyon
We quickly got used to the unregulated traffic, sheep on the roads and overtaking manoeuvres, which were almost more dangerous than the upcoming expedition. Shortly after the entry point at Jakuba, the Tara had enough water to get on the SUPs. Manuel, who had disappeared into the bushes for a short session before we all squeezed into our tight drysuits, came back with a huge scare on his face. Yes, he had already discovered the first of the deadly poisonous horned vipers. No other place in Europe is said to have more poisonous snakes than the Tara Canyon National Park, which is also the deepest in Europe.
After Manuell had calmed down, we asked Dimitri about an antidote and rules of behaviour. It would actually be so easy, the antidote is in the camp and in the event of one of the usually fatal bites it is important to stay relaxed and keep calm. Great!
Day 1: Jakuba - Kolasin
3 hours, 16km, white water I-II
So we start the expedition without antidote. After all the incidents that happened before the start of the expedition, our French friends came up with the motto "le cool"! How many times will we tell ourselves this motto over the coming days? At the moment, the gently flowing river is more reminiscent of the Isar than one of the toughest SUP expeditions. The water meanders gently through a gravel bed. The water is about waist-high at its deepest point. As there are hardly any dangerous spots that we have to look at for a long time, we make a lot of distance very quickly. This allows us to look for a suitable camping spot in the wild wilderness of Montenegro quite early on.
We start to set up camp on a large flat meadow with wild horses, the campfire is quickly lit and we toast with a good French herbal schnapps. I find it very difficult to fall asleep at first. I process the many impressions of today and have to think about tomorrow without interruption: what will await us, will everything go well and hopefully no one will be poisoned by a snake.
Day 2: Kolasin - Kaludra
7 hours, 31km, white water II-III
A long stretch is planned for today. The first rapids. The plan is to get as far as the entrance to the canyon. Unfortunately, we see a lot of rubbish on the riverbank and in the bushes, which somehow seems absurd, as we have only seen a few people so far, apart from in the camp and at the border with Montenegro, and the question constantly arises: "Who is actually producing the rubbish here?". Slowly but surely, the amount of water in the river increases, the speed gets faster, the waves higher and the riverbed narrower.
As already feared, you can really feel the luggage on the board. Manoeuvrability decreases dramatically. Slowly, the first narrow sections of the river appear, which are also blocked by large rocks. We are all struggling, it takes immense strength to manoeuvre between the forces of the river, the pressure on the paddle blade is indescribable. The rock faces now tower up hundreds of metres to the left and right. The turquoise blue water and the rare trees, which seem to grow almost horizontally straight out of the rock, are breathtaking. The gentler parts of the river are used to take short breaks. During the day, we eat only muesli bars and drink the river water with a sporadic small filter system. The paddling and the rather sparse food intake gave us real hope of finding a suitable place to camp in the narrow canyon as quickly as possible. The camp was quickly set up. In fact, we found an incredibly beautiful spot right at the end of our day's stage, at the entrance to the so-called "Devils Canyon". A small river flows into the Tara here, with a beach of fine gravel on the opposite side.
A tall old tree towers above this dream beach, acting as a natural roof over us. The tasks are slowly distributed among the team and we start to work together smoothly. The French take care of the tarps (tarpaulins). These are stretched about knee-high between the trees, with the boards lined up underneath like a bed. Manu and Mario make sure there is a campfire, one of the most dangerous tasks, as the small dry branches are easy to confuse with the small but very poisonous sand and horned vultures.
The banks of the canyon are teeming with snakes, so everyone is very focussed on their task and pays particular attention to where they step and what they grab. At the same time, I try my hand at fly fishing. From my SUP, standing in the eddy of the small tributary, I cast the fishing line countless times, unfortunately without success. The water in front of our beach is indescribably blue and clear, even when fishing it sometimes felt like I was flying over the bottom. But there was one problem we couldn't forget despite this beautiful atmosphere: Devils Canyon. It was known to us as the most difficult passage of the whole river, and Nico and Mario ventured several hundred metres into the canyon on foot along the bank. It didn't take long to realise where the name of this section came from.
There is one deadly spot after another. The two boys return to camp with this bad news. It is unanimously decided that this part is too dangerous. A transfer in the canyon could take days due to the steep rock faces and would involve a lot of climbing and abseiling - so, not the right solution either. The only option that really makes sense is to paddle upstream for a few hard kilometres. So that we can then drive round the dangerous gorge from the next village by car and then put the boards back in the water. So at least we had a plan for the day ahead. Over dinner, we discussed this decision a lot and speculated about the dangers in the gorge. Despite everything, the plan didn't change. With the thought of fighting our way a few kilometres up this raging river tomorrow morning in the back of our minds, we all went to bed early, looking forward to a good night's sleep.
But suddenly, when we had all tucked ourselves into our sleeping bags, we heard Nico shouting! French swear words shoot out of him as if there was no tomorrow, he jumps up and knocks everything away from him, the tarp tears out of the trees. The rest of the team, now wide awake, stand around Nico. We see her fall out of her sleeping bag, the poisonous horned beaver. We all look at each other and there is dead silence in the camp. Nico sits back on his board, completely shocked. After a short time, he gives the all-clear. There's no pain and there's no visible bite mark anywhere. Phew, he was incredibly lucky again. It was clear to me that the emergency tent I had with me, a small 2-person expedition tent, had to be used. The safe home was quickly erected. While we were setting it up, the Stecher Twins asked: "Vale, do you still have room for us?" No question, the shock was deep-seated. The answer was of course "YES", so the three of us spent the night in a small tent about 1.20 metres wide.
Day 3: Kaludra - Splavist
6 hours, 37 km, white water II-IV
8.30 a.m. We are awake, the night was cosy but, as expected, not the best. After a small breakfast - muesli with river water - we set about realising the plan from the previous evening. We paddle down a mighty river against the current to the first large village. It's hell, sweat collects in our drysuits, motivation is at rock bottom. After several hours of partly paddling and partly pulling the 40-kilogram boards through the undergrowth, we finally come across a path. Mirco, a legend of the Tara, is waiting by the road in his old bus. He is something of a legend of the river; we found a few stories about him and the river on the internet while researching in Germany.
The now elderly man knows exactly where to get back into the blue water after Devils Canyon. His old Transit winds its way along narrow gravel roads for a good six kilometres along the canyon. The car is constantly breaking down, but Miro, typically "Montengro-style", sits behind the wheel, one arm out of the window and a fat hand-rolled cigarette in his mouth. Shortly before we want to paddle off, we meet one of these notorious rangers for the first time. Everything is pretty straightforward. The guys just want their money and there's even a receipt. After all the hassle of the morning, the crew are proudly back on their boards by lunchtime and the everyday riding experience is quickly restored. The heavy weight on the boards is becoming more and more a part of everyday life. It is now also easier to assert your own will in the incredible pressure of the water and not just be pushed along where the river would like you to go. Time passes quickly, the adrenalin level is constantly at its peak.
One rapid after another is mastered with increasing confidence. It's really nice to see how the whole team is pretty much on the same level. Nico and Stephan, who are also experienced kayakers, make a very confident impression as they know exactly how the board will behave in the next wave, the Stecher twins don't let themselves get carried away but use their strength and stabilise themselves with strong paddle strokes, while I rely on a crouched stance and my quick reactions. Everyone has their own technique, but they all work.
Towards the evening, the rapids become so difficult that we all agree: This is the heaviest white water we've ever paddled on a SUP in Europe. A key section, almost indescribable, the masses of water roar in the canyon. The river is super narrow, which means the water accelerates very quickly at the end of the roar of a man-sized roller that looks as if it will swallow everything that comes into it. And so it is, Mario is the first to fail against the roller. Nico shoots through the air for what feels like three metres when the roller abruptly brakes his board, luckily nothing happens. Manuel and I decide to go round this section, as it is more important to us both to arrive safely than to stand in this one spot. Stephan, the cameraman, still wants to give it a go. He starts with a different line, very close to the rock, not directly towards the roller, he wants to cut the wave and not go through it and what a miracle - he manages it. He was the only one to master this difficult section.
It is very difficult to find suitable camping spots in the increasingly steep terrain. When we finally find a small sandbank, we set about setting up our tarpaulins again. Unfortunately, today's campsite is not quite as perfect as yesterday's. The gravel bank is slightly flooded with water. So everyone is looking for four stones of roughly the same size to build a "frame" for their board. The plan is to place the stones like bedposts and then lay the iSUP on the stones so that the countless small rivulets wash under us and don't get our sleeping bags wet. Not a bad idea really, it's easy to implement, protects us from the water and from the snakes, which are once again very active on this part of the shore.
Day 4: Splavist - Camp Crab
8 hours, 33 km, white water II-III+
As usual, the day starts with sunshine, which is actually a miracle as the region around the Tara, the Durmitor National Park, is also known as the "Tear of Europe". It is the rainiest region in Europe. Luckily for us, we haven't noticed any of this yet. The Tara now meanders through places that could be described as natural wonders of the world. The green, overgrown rock faces rise up a thousand metres. Cold, clear waterfalls gush out of the wall and splash directly into the blue of the river. Paddling underneath them, holding your mouth open and drinking the clear, rock-filtered water is super energising.
In general, the whole of nature here radiates a really noticeable calm energy. Daisies as big as saucers grow out of the rock, lianas hang down from mossy trees. Everything seems so surreally beautiful. The rapids become increasingly difficult and, above all, longer, sometimes almost a kilometre. Paddling here is therefore very hard on the legs, the thighs burn like hell after such a long section. In contrast, the section between the rapids is very pleasant, the water flows quickly here but is very smooth.
Most of the time, we even sit here on our boards and look upwards, up into the nature above us. Some of the rock faces are so steep that it looks as if they are overhanging and the gorge seems narrower at the top than down by the river. Of course, with all this beauty, you also think about the downside. What if someone gets injured, with unpassable rapids ahead and behind us and a thousand metres of slippery rock to the left and right? It's best not to think about it, but to concentrate on the here and now, a tried and tested method as we all find. Today everything is running like clockwork, we are in the "flow" as they say among athletes. During a longer break ashore, we realise that we are not that far from camp. We briefly discuss the situation and everyone gives the okay that they are still fit enough to paddle the last few kilometres to our base camp. So instead of looking for a suitable place to spend the night, we increase our focus, gather our last strength and step on the gas. It's not long before it gets dark, which would be fatal. The flow is great, we are riding rodeo on the last and hardest rapids of the Tara. We're lucky that we're now so well rehearsed and communication is so good. With loud whistles and hand signals, quick discussions are held over distances of hundreds of metres, discussing where the dangers lie, which line to take, who will go first and who will back up. If anything went like clockwork, it was this communication, it was incredible. By saving so much time "scouting" (looking at heavy rapids) for the difficult sections, we arrive at the finish line, the base camp, just a few minutes after the sun has disappeared behind the rock faces.
The first ascent of the entire Tara is complete. Without injury, in one day less than planned and all on stand-up paddleboards. We, the camp staff and guests, think this is something to celebrate. After four days without showers or a proper bed, it's not long before we're sitting down to dinner, freshly showered and rounding off the day with homemade slivovitz and roast meat.
Day 5: Camp Grab - Scepan Polje; border in Bosnia and Herzegovina
4 hours, 17 km, white water II-III
After an incredibly cosy night and a big breakfast, we decide to cycle the last section of the Tara. About 17 kilometres to the Bosnian border, the section is considered a gimmick. It's a nice way to finish the last part together with the team without any pressure. We all feel free and grateful to be travelling in this natural environment. Shortly before the border, the river is covered in fog and a thunderstorm is approaching. Accompanied by very uncomfortable weather and heavy rain, we are glad that we are now heading back to camp by jeep after a nice stretch and not onto the next snake-infested gravel bank. The current weather also lives up to the name "Tears of Europe".
Thick curtains of rain accompany us on our departure to Munich. You can tell that each of us has the feeling in our stomachs that "We've made it, Tara!"
Thanks to all the sponsors, without whom the project would never have been possible:
- Ortlieb
- Fanatic
- Starboard
- JP-Australia
- Innosnack
- Munich SUP.com
- Altitude Eyewear
- NRS
- WRSI
- GrabCamp Ethno Village
- LowaPro
Author: Valentin Illichmann
