Indus Expedition: Eirik Hansen Kayaks Rondu Canyon

Hello, my name is Eirik Hansen, and I am a whitewater kayaker from Sogndal, Norway. In the fall of 2024, I traveled to Pakistan to paddle the world's toughest river canyon, the 200-kilometer- long Rondu Canyon. The experience was indescribable, and I would like to present a real adventure. Join me on the journey to the K2 of whitewater kayaking.

As my journey to Rondu Canyon approaches, I feel both excitement and nervousness. It’s the world’s hardest river stretch, and despite improving as a paddler, I deeply respect its power. After recent tragedies in the paddling community, a sense of fear lingers. Stress has kept me from fully anticipating the trip—until now.

Back home in Sogndal, I have just six hours to pack, see my girlfriend, change to winter tires, and have a bonfire with friends. I roll up my sleeves and get to work. My girlfriend helps calm me before taking the dog for a walk. Music plays loudly, and excitement builds —I’m returning to a place that meant so much to me in 2020, this time with an incredible team. After a night of laughter and gratitude, I collapse into bed but wake up restless, my girlfriend noticing my unease. I hold her close so she can sleep better.

At 4 a.m., I groggily change the winter tires, then say my goodbyes. In Oslo, Sanna from Sweet delivers gear, and we arrange trip photos. A warm hug sends me off. At Gardermoen, I camouflage my kayak as windsurfing gear and, thankfully, get everything on the plane. As we take off, relief and excitement set in. Landing in Pakistan, I reunite with my crew. Spirits are high as we spend a week acclimating to the immense power of the Indus River. On November 1, 2024, I stand at the starting point of one of the craziest weeks of my life.

Rondu Canyon awaits. I’ve told my loved ones I’ll be offline—an intense and challenging week is ahead. Despite feeling a bit sick and tired, there’s no turning back. I surrender to the river. The weather is perfect, but the mood is serious. No jokes, just focused preparation— checking gear, life jackets, and first aid kits. After final checks, we launch into the Indus. Im padlding together with some of my best friends in the world. Matthias Weger, Mario Leitner, Adrian Mattern, Janosch Plattner, Marinus Bauer and David Sodomka. In a group like this, i feel ready for the Rondu.

From the first stroke, the river’s power is overwhelming. The first major obstacle is a massive hole that could swallow a bus. Nerves creep in, but I trust my experienced team. Mario leads with confidence, followed by Matthias and Adrian with flawless technique. Now it’s my turn. My pulse races as I scout the line, battling fear. I push forward, knowing a strong start sets the tone for the trip. The line isn’t perfect, and I get tossed in a whirlpool, but I make it through. Relief floods in. The day is filled with more challenges, but we navigate them all. As night falls, we share a well-earned dinner at camp, feeling accomplished and ready for what’s next.

Day two starts with gray weather and strong winds. We’ve had a good night’s sleep and feel ready, though our bodies are a bit sore from yesterday’s paddling. The breakfast is fantastic, and the guys at camp have really done a great job.

When we return to the river, bigger and more challenging rapids are waiting for us. I feel the excitement, but also a certain tiredness.

First, we face “The Dirty Mexican” – a rapid that proves to be more challenging than we thought. Everyone on the team struggles a bit to hit the right line, but Mario navigates effortlessly through it. I take a risky entry and try a gangsta-boof (a type of technique with little speed), but it ends with me losing my paddle and ending up in a backloop. Luckily, I regain control and make it through. After this, I feel a bit more switched on, but in the next rapid, “Sneaky Snake,” I make a mistake by flipping too early. I have to fight my way through the entire rapid before I roll back upright.

After a mental pick-me-up, I feel like I’ve let out some of the frustration. I handle the lastbig rapid with much more confidence, and it feels amazing to be back on track. We finish the day early and head towards Malupa for scouting. Here, we realize that we’re higher up in the river than we thought, so Malupa gets postponed to Day 4. Back at camp, we reflect on the day’s experiences. I feel stronger and more prepared for the upcoming challenges.

After paddling through the biggest challenges so far, we continue, with Adrian at the forefront. He’s incredibly strong at so-called read-and-run rapids – where you have to react quickly to the river’s current and read the line while paddling. The rapids become more impressive and intense as we go on, and some of the whirlpools are gigantic. We pass some of the scary, huge

whirlpools, close up, and I feel that I’m not quite in top form.

Therefore, I stay behind in the group and relax. I don’t feel completely safe on the river right now, and it’s a bit of an unexpected feeling. It’s hard for me to take on the leadership responsibility, and I often find excuses to avoid being the first to go. My camera becomes an excuse to stay behind, and I want to see how the others do it before I try myself. I feel that I lack the confidence to lead at this stage. But, as always, it’s about getting back on the horse. I handle the last big rapid with much better focus and hit the line as planned. That feeling of accomplishment is priceless – that’s the recipe for pushing forward on a trip like this. If you don’t regain your confidence, this journey could get really tough.

We come to a steep rapid, and Mario scouts and gives me instructions: start in the middle and push left to avoid the whirlpools. I follow his advice, but suddenly, I’m thrown around by a curler and flip. When I pop up, I’m heading straight for a massive whirlpool. I sprint right and manage to get past, but a smaller, stickier whirlpool shows up. I boof it and make it through. It was a wild experience but incredibly rewarding. It gave me confidence and strength, something I really need for the upcoming days.

We finish paddling for the day after the big rapid and spend the afternoon scouting Malupa. Upon arriving at Malupa, we see that the rapid has changed completely. It’s still huge, but much less dangerous than before. As long as you stay in the middle of the river or a bit to the right, you can get through without issues. Now, I can relax and save my thoughts for when we paddle through it.

I’ve decided that tomorrow will be about finding my joy and confidence again. I need to try to take more responsibility and lead some of the upcoming rapids, and hopefully find the calm needed to tackle the biggest challenges on Day 4. Everyone in the crew seems tired, and there’s little talking. I think everyone feels the immense physical and mental strain of paddling the Indus, especially as we’re getting into the biggest rapids. The trips might not be long, but the intensity is through the roof. I’m looking forward to dinner. Camp life repeats itself, the dinner is epic, and the humor is bad.

I wake up after a good night’s sleep, and the sun is shining through the window. I feel optimistic today and look forward to the monsters downstream. After a delicious breakfast with cheese in the omelette, we gather to head to the river. Today's paddling goes well, and soon we’re standing in front of the massive Malupa rapid. The rapid has changed during recent floods and David calls it “Malupita,” a friendlier monster, but still big. Mario is first, but misses a bit and rolls. Adrian nails it, and Matthias gets an epic line. Now it’s my turn, and I’m nervous. Adrian gives me a pep talk and explains the entry. I feel ready.

To calm my breath, I take my time. My pulse is high, over 100, and my heart is pounding. I find my calm and surrender to what’s about to happen. I float down toward the monster, hyper-focused. The first curler comes, and I get a perfect entry. I drop into the main wave, and a green highway opens up before me. I paddle on, take a big stroke, and lift off. I fly. Weightlessness and amazement. I land in the world’s softest pillow, backloop quickly, and roll up. I see that I’ve passed the worst. I lose myself and can’t hold back the emotions. I’m in pure ecstasy. I’ve just paddled Malupita. This was one of the strongest paddling experiences of my life.

We float down to the next rapid, Natural Progression, one of the biggest and most technical I’ve ever seen. Matthias and I spent hours figuring it out in 2020, and ended up portaging it. This time, it’s still challenging, and we spend over an hour scouting. There is so much water to analyze that we get dizzy by just looking at it. The difficulty of this rapid is overwhelming.

We sit on a big boulder, on the verge of deciding to portage. The water is enormous, and the line is extremely difficult. When we look at the mountains around us, they seem to sway in the wind. Eventually, Matthias decides to paddle, and he nails the line. We pat him on the back, and I follow. My line is perfect, and I keep my head dry throughout the rapid. Adrian, who needed the most convincing, steps up and follows us. His run is a bit rowdy, but he stays in control and makes it through with style as well.

This is what paddling is about – incredible moments, confidence, and friendship in the wildest situations. This day really fired me up, and I love life. We still have to keep it in check for 3 more days. We can do this.

This day on Rondu was relentless. Must Run Canyon proved far steeper and more intense than expected. The first rapid was full of seams and curlers—I flipped at the top and braced for the flush. The next was a massive wave train, delivering a harsh reality check.

After tackling a few big rapids, we reached “the Double” —the largest we’d seen from the road. It was too massive to run, so we portaged for the first time on the trip. Morale lifted when we finally ran the next rapid “Need for Speed,” a huge but manageable rapid. Then came “Three Brothers,” which demanded full focus. I launched high, got tossed around, but safely made it through. Relief washed over us as we floated downstream. Marinus and David joined for the final stretch, and we ended the day with smooth lines into camp. With time running short, we had to push hard to finish Rondu in seven days. Fatigue, illness, and diarrhea were taking their toll. Inshallah, tomorrow goes well.

We started early, determined to finish in seven days. Janosch joined us for the first stage, and paddling went smoothly—until we reached Stout Gorge. The section was brutal, with massive rapids and dangerous rocks demanding full focus. I felt pressured to push hard but reminded myself to stay calm. Approaching a rapid before a big siphon, we opted to portage for safety. The challenges only intensified. Then came “Table,” one of the most technical rapids. After much debate, only Mario and I committed to running it.

At first, everything seemed fine—until Mario hit a seam and vanished underwater. He was pushed dangerously close to the siphon, fighting to stay on track. Helpless on the other side, I shouted for help. Marinus reacted fast, throwing a lifeline and stabilizing him just in time. Mario made it to shore— furious, exhausted, and shaken. His boat, however, was trapped, and freeing it took ages.

The near-drowning left me drained. I couldn’t bring myself to run the rapid and instead portaged through massive boulders, feeling defeated. We stopped early despite wanting to paddle further. The atmosphere was heavy—we knew we’d just faced something serious. Matthias reminded us that wise decisions matter most. Adrian summed it up perfectly: “Paddle the rapids that can hurt you, portage the ones that can kill you.” I was still rattled, but after time with the crew and sharing stories, I started processing the emotions. Tomorrow, we push on—but tonight, I’m exhausted.

The day began under the sun with a tough rapid, setting a perfect tone—until disaster struck. David took the wrong line, putting Adrian and Mario in serious danger. Adrian got caught in a rock pile, narrowly avoiding entrapment, while Mario barely escaped collision. Tensions ran high. Adrian, injured and furious, lashed out, and David took it hard. The emotional strain was heavy, and we had to regroup before continuing.

Later, we faced Stookesberry, an extreme rapid. After careful evaluation, we decided to portage—it was the right call. More read-and-run rapids followed, and I shared a broken pack of crackers with Adrian for a quick energy boost. By day’s end, we reached Snake Stout, another major rapid, and portaged again. A dangerous wave train loomed ahead, but we all made it through safely.

At last, we reached the end of our journey—an emotional moment. David opened a bottle of whiskey, and we toasted to life and those we’d lost. The mood was euphoric. That evening in Gilgit, laughter and stories flowed as we honored our experience. I could barely carry my kayak to the hotel, utterly drained. Lying in bed at Hotel Kallisto, my mind swirled with reflections. This trip was about more than paddling—it was about facing fear, trusting my team, and pushing limits.

The river taught us that in the hardest moments, we grow the most. Mistakes happen, but resilience defines us. This journey tested me as a paddler, a friend, and a person. It was an experience I’d never forget.

Meet Eirik Hansen, a Norwegian kayaker who has taken on some of the most extreme whitewater challenges in the world. With a deep passion for expedition paddling, Eirik has pushed his limits and navigated some of the toughest rapids on the planet. His journey is one of skill, resilience, and a relentless pursuit of adventure.

Discipline: Whitewater Kayaking 


Nationality: Norwegian
Year of Birth: 1995

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