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Donned in full wetsuit, booties, mini fins, highly flattering life preserver and a crash-helmet, we scramble down a perilous rock and mud cliff to the edge of the raging Shotover river.

Its our first day of dumb sports, and we believe we've chosen wisely - River surfing looks relaxed and fun. So the brochure said. Well... at least its safer than a 15,000 foot tandem dive, safer than bungy jumping, right?

Well, no. Not really. In fact it was downright dangerous really but a lot of fun...

As the waters of a raging river like the shotover pass over boulders on the riverbed, they form what are known as 'standing waves' - here the wave is always in one place and constant.  The idea is to drop into the trough of one of these waves and then ride on a mini surfboard back and forth (it looks easy in the promotional video).

We enter the water and practice with our firmly attached boogie boards - rolls, turns, duck diving and different positions for shooting rapids.

Then we head into the centre of the river and catch the main flow and we're off - twenty of us in a line which rapidly deteriorates into clumps and stragglers. Isobel and I are close to the rear.

One of our guides, Geoff, starts barking orders at us - and when we fail to heed his instruction (due mostly to ineptness) he is there with us pulling us out of danger.

Then we hit the rapids - grade 3 to grade 4. Walls of white foam which rise up in groups to pummel the air from your lungs. As we enter the second set I lose sight of the rest of the group completely - wrestle with wave after wave and wonder what the hell anyone sees in this sport.

Then we exit the rapids - I see we are still a group and that everyone else is looking as washed out as I am. Then it hits you... this is FUN!

We continue on, Geoff shouting, white crests smothering and rocks looming.

Now for the exit - we're instructed to head for the left bank and paddle furiously towards it. The rest of the team are safely on the side but I get wrapped up with the team joker - an American who collects me flipper first and sweeps us past the exit point. Geoff is shouting again... and grabs my hapless assailant. We paddle into shore around 200 metres further down.

Its all happened so fast that Isobel is oblivious to our extended swim - so while we're clambering up a sheer cliff again, she's walking to the bus wondering how I've managed to get ahead of her in line. Its not until she reaches the bus that our plight is revealed.

Fortunately we're not far behind the main team, and so, safe and sound on the bus we head back to Queenstown. A select group with excess balls and energy go for a second run. We decline and head for our motels spa...

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