Words: Ian Jones
Photos: Ian Jones
and the rest of the crew
Thanks to:
Davide Longoni and Tommy Fasoli of Riversoul – the kayak and rafting centre in Valsesia https://www.riversoul.it/?lang=en
Andy Holt of Escape to Adventure. Kayak courses and guided trips. https://escapetoadventure.com
Read Ian’s previous expedition from Ecuador at: https://paddlerezine.com/the-piatua-ecuador/
Itchycoo Park – The Egua River, Italy
“Over Bridge of Sighs
To rest my eyes in shades of green
Under dreaming spires
To Itchycoo Park, that’s where I’ve been
(What did you do there?) I got high
(What did you feel there?) Well, I cried
(But why the tears there?) Tell you why
It’s all too beautiful”
As we park at the put-in of the Egua after the drive up the lyrics above play to the theme of the day, It’s all too beautiful, Steve Marriot tells us as I switch off the ignition.
I doubt Paolo Longoni realised what he had done on the 27th May 1984, when he made the first descent of the Egua in a Taifun di Prijon. I doubt he realised that over the coming years, people would flock to this steep little ditch of a river in the Valsesia region of Italy, that it would feature in pictures, videos, and articles. We owe this man a great debt. Sure, someone else would have done it first, but they didn’t; Paolo did, and many followed, including us.
The Egua has become a test piece of the area and the individual. The locals run it at high levels, few eddies, the tap turned open, a constant flow of moving water, changing, pulsing, pushing, pulling, requiring adjustments. Adjustments made without thought, the connectivity between brain and body seamless; hopefully, that seamless action translates to the boat, its movement, its position, our position, whether we are going to get a beating or a smooth passage.
The lines are narrow, subtle even. We decide to commit: to paddle or not. Is it grade, yes or no? At the put-in, there’s a hubbub of conversations in French, German, Italian, and English around me. I’ve done this river before, yet there is still a sense of trepidation; the earth beneath my feet is constant, the water beneath my boat is not.
Placid to chaos
The character of a river changes from placid, still waters in an eddy to the chaos of white water created by unseen riverbed obstacles. It is the chaos we see that makes the concerns in our minds, and the more concerns, the more chaos we see. Our job, if that is how you want to define it, is to see our own path through the chaos. A reflection of the chaos of our everyday life, pretty much. Just as life throws us curveballs, so does the river. We plan for what we expect, but have to be ready for the unexpected.
I guess the level was the high side of low, enough, enough to float and have fun, not enough to scare us witless, which, given the gradient, would be all too easy with a few centimetres more.
A gem
Described by Dr Robin on ukriversguidebook.co.uk forum back in the day as ‘an insanely steep low volume creek with mind-blowing slabs and drops. A gem. Who are we to argue? The Egua is the white water park for kayaks you might design if you won the Euro Millions.
It is probably the perfect example of the region’s rivers that have been drawing boaters to the area since that first descent. One of the many tributaries of the Sesia river, its origins lie high up the valley, and the put-in is a fair drive up the SP10 from Balmuccia. If you are making the pilgrimage to Italy, it is most definitely a river to include in your hit list.
It starts with a bang from the put-in under the bridge, water cascades down steeply, disappearing out of sight as you crane your neck from your eddy under the bridge, looking for the line. Navigate the first few rocks and shoots before dropping into the gutter, negotiate a few stoppers and make sure you are facing the right way by the time you arrive at the first drop of note.
River stopping
The Egua is an exercise in river stopping, not river running. At these levels and within our ability, we stop, inspect, set lines, and set safety. With experience and levels, and perhaps fewer in number, our flow might match the river. There are twelve of us in the group, a big group, but there is an order, and the progress we are making is such that we can keep track of numbers.
experienced group
In the read-and-run sections, I am the last man. Davide knows when he sees me, it’s good to go. In set-piece rapids, Tommy is usually designated last man, unless he has set the line and is on bank safety. The group is experienced and works well together; a nod is as good as a wink to a blind man, as my grandmother used to say. Signals are exchanged, and progress is made.
The achievement of one rapid is soon surpassed by the next, one problem solved becomes another to overcome as we move downstream. There is no crux move on the Egua; there are lots of them, and a pin is a missed stroke away. There are a few I do not want to be in those places, but by and large, the river at lower flows is forgiving. I imagine this might change at higher levels, and it doesn’t take much imagination to see it. The gradient is relentless.
Today the sun shines, the water glistens, the silence broken by laughter, shouts of encouragement, we are all paddling for each other. Of course, we want to make the moves ourselves, but we gain just as much satisfaction from seeing our friends make a clean line, hoping we can do the same.
Captured for posterity
However, when one of us messes up, the group has it on camera, phones, SLRs, GoPros, and drones; it’s all there to be captured for posterity, the clean lines are appreciated; the not-so-clean lines provide the fuel over a beer at the end of the day for some light-hearted ribbing. The trophy blades are awarded at the end of the week, and it’s the Egua that provides the moment of the week. The moment Davide thought he could be dealing with not one but two dislocated shoulders, one of our number escapes with only injured pride, the blades are his until the next trip.
This is the first time I have run the river top to bottom with no portages, bar the chossy section after the first feature. It feels good, or is it relief? I’m not sure. A trip to Italy without paddling the Egua would feel as if I’d been cheated. It’s that gutter move at the top that causes the concerns, the concerns that manifest themselves into the vaguely sleep-deprived night when you know it’s what awaits when dawn breaks, when breakfast and coffee are done, and the 50-minute drive to the river is over. I’ve been waiting a year for this, since the last trip. The mental gymnastics rehearsed a hundred times over the previous twelve months are behind me; only the moves ahead remain.
Nouria Newman
I know above me, on the bridge, there is an audience, eager to see success or failure. An audience wanting to see the lines, to see how difficult it looks, some thinking, can I make those moves, execute the proper strokes at the right time. Nouria is up there, not that I know that until the end of the day, and I’m pretty sure she doesn’t need to see our lines!
I sit patiently, waiting. A signal, and this is it, a year in waiting. Three hundred sixty-five days give or take a few since I was last here, last year, four of us walked off, instigated by me, the levels were spicy. Today, lower, much lower, doable. Nose clip, a breath, break into the flow. Success follows.
The river keeps on giving until the last drop, Cylinder, straight forward, but safety live bait is required. It’s a flat-to-flat drop, calm water to calm, but at the bottom, the sloping rock slide creates a recirculating stopper that has been the undoing of many. Get this wrong, and there is potential for some downtime; get it really wrong, and the only way you are coming out is someone coming in to get you, on a rope, even at low water levels.
The jewel in the crown
Of all the rivers in this region, the Egua is probably the jewel in the crown, the centre piece of your Italian experience. The Sesia, classic river running. The Gronda is steep, but it just doesn’t have that out-there feeling as you see the village below you. I think one of the reasons the Egua delivers so much to the average boater is that it’s achievable.
So many of the rivers we might see these days on social media are beyond many boaters. We see the pro boaters, the sponsored few, dropping into the social media perfect river. The Egua is that river for us, decent boaters, all wanting to test ourselves and have one of our mates take that picture that we can put on our wall at home or make our social media profile picture.Thanks, Paolo, for showing us the way all those years ago.
The Egua River
The Egua River in Italy, located in the Val Sesia, is a world-renowned, steep, technical whitewater creek, famous among kayakers for its ‘waterpark’ feel with slides, drops, and granite features, often rated Class IV-V, perfect for advanced paddlers seeking adrenaline, especially during spring snowmelt, with guides offering trips and challenging sections like ‘Egualand’ for skilled creekers.
Key Characteristics:
Location: Val Sesia, Piedmont region, Italy.
Difficulty: Highly technical, primarily Class IV-V (advanced/expert).
Features: Steep gradient, numerous slides, drops, bedrock, and boulder gardens.
Nickname: ‘Egualand’ due to its waterpark-like nature.
Season: Best in spring (April-June) with rain and snowmelt, providing ideal water levels.
Who Paddles the Egua?
Experienced whitewater kayakers looking for challenging, fast-paced creeking.
Groups that build up skills on more manageable sections before tackling the Egua.
Check https://rivermap.org for maps and put-in/take-out details.
