After a quick trip to ASDA for supplies, and to a chippy in Bridge of Allen for food, we were off, up past Perth and towards Nethy Bridge. The bus journey was pretty chilled out and relaxed, with Radio 1 providing the majority of our music as we had made the school-boy error of forgetting both tape-deck and FM transmitter. Luckily, the music on the radio was good, and all was forgiven for that day. Arriving at 11pm, we were given a small tour of the bunkhouse, with Narnia, the Hobbit Room and the Drying Room drawing particular interest. An hour later the other minibus arrived, instantly breaking into the keg of beer which we had left alone (our second school-boy error of the day). After a small celebration of everyone arriving successfully, everyone went to their respective bunks (Tom and Caity in the “Someone got Lucky” room), and tried to get a good nights rest before the next days paddling.
The morning saw a rush to get food and drink before we got on the river. No, I lied, that was what was meant to happen. In reality it was another morning filled with good intentions of leaving by 9am, but as normal, we were about half-an-hour behind our hopes, and left for the Middle Findhorn’s uppermost get-in, arriving around half-ten. After a quick photo-shoot for the Lansdowne (where Ben was his normal camera-hogging self), we ran the shuttle and got onto the river.
Our group led going down the Findhorn. The first rapid took longer than almost any other due to Harry’s set of repaired paddles disintegrating, and Cat having to run back to Rachel’s car to get another pair for him.
The next few rapids saw the number of swims in our group increase up into double figures, before we even arrived at the bridge that signalled the normal get-in. This point under normal circumstances would have taken about twenty minutes to get to…it took us over an hour! At this point, despite the steady swims, our pace increased all the way until Wall of Death, the first of two main rapids on the river.
Here was the first introduction to lines for the beginners, with Ben on the bank showing them where to paddle, and myself and Sean demonstrating and waiting at the bottom. Yet despite the ominous name, this rapid claimed none of the beginners – not one swim!
Unfortunately, Carnage Corner was not going to let us away so lightly. When we arrived there, everyone decided to run it, even those who had walked at Wall of Death. Three people swam there, our highest count for any section of the river, and we dropped from three freshers who had not yet swum, down to two. Adding insult to injury (quite literally), three people swam at the get-out, dropping our number of dry freshers to just one.
After getting out and packing up some of the kayaks we began the process of waiting for the other group…and waiting…and waiting. It was after six before we saw them again, walking down the road, having got off the river not wanting it to be dark while on the river.
Returning to our fantastic bunkhouse, a club meal was cooked by Louise and Christine, with Euan and a couple of others getting in the way where they could. This went down as well as any free meal ever has…with extreme alacrity! The pasta was followed by drinking games and discussions of the events of the previous day, as alcohol always helps the excuses flow.
The following morning, the litany of alarm clocks once again roused the bunkhouse and a cleaning frenzy followed. In a testament to club efficiency, we found ourselves at the banks of the Findhorn before we could decide what river we wanted to do. Then, in an equal testament to club faff, we spent almost an hour running through the possibilities of which river to paddle, with many being the “chosen river” before the Spey emerged triumphant.
The Spey caused relatively little carnage compared to the epic on the Findhorn the day before, and everyone who had been in my group made their target of halving their swim count. Unfortunately, there was a swim by Callum, who had been the only fresher besides Harry to not swim on the Findhorn. However, the best was saved till last as Peter, swimming only a short way before the get-out, discovered he had swum to the wrong bank and wound up on an island, and had to swim across to our shore. These events were caught on film.
Everything that happened on this weekend, from the fantastic choice of accommodation, the epic (maybe even record) number of swims on the Findhorn, to the brilliant beginners who joined us, made this one of the best weekends kayaking I have been on in years!!
Paul
