Before the Dams Rise
09/18/2025 12:57PM ● By Haley Watkins
Phil Howard and his friend, Allen Ottman, along the banks of the Zambezi River. The duo were able to run the river last fall, before a new dam was slated to be installed. Photo courtesy of Phil Howard.
For many paddlers, the Zambezi River lives somewhere between myth and bucket list. But for kayakers Phil Howard and Allen Ottman, their dream to paddle it became a reality last fall – before the river’s legendary whitewater could be forever changed.
The idea was sparked over years of friendship and whitewater adventures. Phil and Allen first met while kayaking rivers around Durango, Colorado and bonded on trips like the Grand Canyon and Black Canyon of the Gunnison. But this time, Allen had something bigger in mind: the mighty Zambezi.
The Zambezi River is the fourth largest river in Africa. It hosts some of the biggest and most iconic rapids for whitewater kayaking in the world. Whitewater enthusiasts start each day at the base of Victoria Falls, also known by the Chitonga name as Mosi-oa-Tunya, which means “the smoke that thunders.”
“Phil had done a trip through Durango and Allen mentioned the Zambezi almost offhandedly,” Phil says. “It started there – and then suddenly, it was real.”
Launching from Livingstone, Zambia, their three-week journey included 14 days on the river (six days of total travel, three days to get there, two days to get home) and an intense travel itinerary through Denver, London Heathrow, Johannesburg, and finally, into Central Africa.
The two kayakers met many other river enthusiasts from Colorado, Montana, Ireland, New Zealand and France at the iconic put-in spot: Victoria Falls, a UNESCO World Heritage site and one of the most awe-inspiring backdrops for a paddler.
You don’t carry your boat down to the river at Victoria Falls,” Phil explains. “There are porters – who are part of the tourist economy – who carry it down for you. It’s unlike anything else.”
The paddling was intense – up to 13 miles a day, covering 60 kilometers in total, focusing on the iconic upper section. While some days were just the two friends, other days the group swelled to 14 people. Safety was paramount, not just because of the rapids, but because of the crocodiles. Baby crocs, often flushed out from the calmer pools, could be spotted in the turbulent water.
“We woke up to lions roaring outside our tent,” Phil recalls. “To go to the bathroom at night, it was listen, look, listen. Unzip. Listen, look, listen again. Then sprint back in.”
Phil and Allen saw a leopard devouring a gazelle and elephants nearly every day. In fact, the stretch of Zambia they traveled through is known as an elephant corridor, where increasing food shortages are pushing elephants into towns and villages.
Despite the wildness – or maybe because of it – Phil and Allen were struck by the warmth and chaos of local life. Cars barreled by with people’s heads out the windows, shouting greetings, music blaring. Plans felt loosely held yet always somehow came together.
“There’s this beautiful, relaxed rhythm to everything,” Phil says. “It taught me to let go a little.”
Language was no barrier. “Everyone spoke English, and there are 73 local dialects,” Phil adds. “The people were welcoming and hilarious. Just so joyful.”
As the sun set on Phil and Allen’s last day on the water, near the potential dam site, both men paused. “There’s something about knowing you might be the last generation to run this river as it is,” Phil says. “That changes you. It makes you grateful. And it makes you want to tell the story."
For many paddlers, the Zambezi River lives somewhere between myth and bucket list. But for kayakers Phil Howard and Allen Ottman, their dream to paddle it became a reality last fall – before the river’s legendary whitewater could be forever changed.
The idea was sparked over years of friendship and whitewater adventures. Phil and Allen first met while kayaking rivers around Durango, Colorado and bonded on trips like the Grand Canyon and Black Canyon of the Gunnison. But this time, Allen had something bigger in mind: the mighty Zambezi.
The Zambezi River is the fourth largest river in Africa. It hosts some of the biggest and most iconic rapids for whitewater kayaking in the world. Whitewater enthusiasts start each day at the base of Victoria Falls, also known by the Chitonga name as Mosi-oa-Tunya, which means “the smoke that thunders.”
“Phil had done a trip through Durango and Allen mentioned the Zambezi almost offhandedly,” Phil says. “It started there – and then suddenly, it was real.”
Launching from Livingstone, Zambia, their three-week journey included 14 days on the river (six days of total travel, three days to get there, two days to get home) and an intense travel itinerary through Denver, London Heathrow, Johannesburg, and finally, into Central Africa.
The two kayakers met many other river enthusiasts from Colorado, Montana, Ireland, New Zealand and France at the iconic put-in spot: Victoria Falls, a UNESCO World Heritage site and one of the most awe-inspiring backdrops for a paddler.
You don’t carry your boat down to the river at Victoria Falls,” Phil explains. “There are porters – who are part of the tourist economy – who carry it down for you. It’s unlike anything else.”
With the guidance of a local kayaker, Amanti, the group navigated rapids 1 through 14, famous for their massive drops and roaring chaos. Their journey wasn’t just about chasing adrenaline; it was also about beating a clock. Plans are underway for a dam on this stretch of river, backed by the Chinese government, threatening to drown much of the whitewater beneath a reservoir.
"That was the biggest reason for going now,” Phil says. “It might not be runnable much longer.”The paddling was intense – up to 13 miles a day, covering 60 kilometers in total, focusing on the iconic upper section. While some days were just the two friends, other days the group swelled to 14 people. Safety was paramount, not just because of the rapids, but because of the crocodiles. Baby crocs, often flushed out from the calmer pools, could be spotted in the turbulent water.
Phil and Allen met two brothers and kayaked with them most days. Photo courtesy of Phil Howard.
“You don’t go anywhere alone, not even to pee,” Phil says with a laugh. “It was always groups of eight, eyes on each other. Even bathroom breaks were strategic.”
Off the river, Africa continued to amaze. On a rest day, they traveled to Chobe National Park in Botswana, camping deep in the bush. The border crossing involved a sanitizing puddle and shoe dip, and then came the real wildness.“We woke up to lions roaring outside our tent,” Phil recalls. “To go to the bathroom at night, it was listen, look, listen. Unzip. Listen, look, listen again. Then sprint back in.”
Phil and Allen saw a leopard devouring a gazelle and elephants nearly every day. In fact, the stretch of Zambia they traveled through is known as an elephant corridor, where increasing food shortages are pushing elephants into towns and villages.
Despite the wildness – or maybe because of it – Phil and Allen were struck by the warmth and chaos of local life. Cars barreled by with people’s heads out the windows, shouting greetings, music blaring. Plans felt loosely held yet always somehow came together.
“There’s this beautiful, relaxed rhythm to everything,” Phil says. “It taught me to let go a little.”
Language was no barrier. “Everyone spoke English, and there are 73 local dialects,” Phil adds. “The people were welcoming and hilarious. Just so joyful.”
As the sun set on Phil and Allen’s last day on the water, near the potential dam site, both men paused. “There’s something about knowing you might be the last generation to run this river as it is,” Phil says. “That changes you. It makes you grateful. And it makes you want to tell the story."