When your boots are bone dry, it’s easy to underestimate a river.
Terra firma is familiar, safe, and on the opposite bank there is plenty more of it; a tempting path all the way to the carpark, fresh clothes, and that much-discussed post-tramp feed.
Water is pliant, giving, fun – how dangerous can it be?
Oftentimes deceptively innocuous, any river crossing carves a question mark into a tramper’s plans, because just as 90 per cent of an iceberg sits below the surface, a river’s dangerous secrets are mostly submerged.
Consider that every litre of water is equal to one kilogram of mass and that every time a river’s flow doubles in speed, it quadruples in force. Very quickly, you’re dealing with a liquid locomotive.
As a longtime tramper and one of New Zealand’s most experienced canyoners, Dan Clearwater is well acquainted with rivers and treats them with a healthy respect.
In all his years tramping, he recalls just one instance of being swept away in a murky Ruahine river – an incident he and his tramping mate were experienced enough to get out of unscathed, barring a few scrapes. On other occasions – aside from a fair share of near misses – Clearwater has had the sense to give them a wide berth.
Over a decade ago, he and his party found themselves unable to return from Canterbury’s Pinchgut Hut, after heavy rain flooded the rivers and blocked Pinchgut Track.
Determined to get out, they attempted a crossing of a swollen sidestream, the first of several crossings on the route. Clearwater says it was wishful thinking.
“It’s so easy to go down that path of emotional response and irrational thinking,” he says. “People say ‘stop, think and stay put’ are the right things to do, but it’s very difficult unless you’ve got the experience.
“That’s where an experienced trip leader is worth their weight in gold – someone who can say ‘I’ve seen this before, and I know you’ve got work tomorrow but sorry mate, we’re staying here’.”
Rather than hang tight in the hut, however, the party decided to exit via Mt Thomas with two other trampers, who turned out to be ill-equipped for the difficult and exposed route.
As snow conditions threatened hypothermia, the group trudged on for seven hours until they reached the road end. Kilometres from their cars, the party had little choice but to doorknock on a nearby home where they found friendly locals and a warm fire and were able to arrange transport home.
In hindsight, Clearwater calls the trip a “comedy of errors”, and says he’d have been wise to stay home that weekend.
He says there is a range of psychological factors at play within individuals and groups which, if unchallenged, lead to accidents, and many of them occur early in the piece.
This could be anything from an inexperienced tramper’s desire to conform to a group majority, the pressure trampers feel to walk out before a deadline or the decision to begin a trip in poor weather because leave has been booked at work, he says.
Though well documented, even experienced trampers can fall into these traps. Clearwater has a background in aviation and is trained in the pitfalls of human decision making, and the process of practical problem solving, known as heuristics.
“You have to think to yourself what are the factors at play here, what is influencing our decision and what traps should we be aware of,” he says. “One technique is to verbalise it, and have the confidence to say ‘hey, everyone, I’m concerned we could make a poor decision to cross the river because the hut is just there and it’s late in the day. This is a trap to avoid’.”

