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canoeing, kayaking and other adventures

canoeing and kayaking adventures born in the Southeastern U.S. and now centered in Scotland...

Sunday, October 30, 2005

Another Taste of Out West – River Tay – 30/10/05

After not much fanfare on the listserv, Lucas and I headed up to Perth with Amy for the big canoe expo. I was in the market for a cheap C-1 or a cheaper kayak that could be excavated to make a C-1. Amy was in the market for a really cheap kayak and whatever cheap kit she could find. The plan was to check out the expo for a bit and then paddle the Stanley section of Tay that was nearby. With the time change, we were treated to an extra hour for snoozing before meeting up with Amy. Derek met up with us at the boat shed, so we left town around 9:20 with a fully-laden Skoda – three kayaks and a shuttle bike on the outside as well as three paddlers and full kit on the inside. The Stanley run was originally Callum’s idea, but he wasn’t so keen on a read and run trip. We were feeling more daring, so armed with our guidebook and some maps, we headed north.

I found myself in a familiar position on the way out of town. We made a few wrong turns on the way out of town as I acquainted myself with the roads and the names. The car’s reverse gear got a fair bit of use. We found our way to the Forth bridge and were on our way properly. The sky looked quite frightful on the drive north and at times the rain was quite heavy. Once in Perth, we threaded our way through narrow and confusing streets, but the River Tay formed a nice navigation reference. There were only two bridges across the Tay in Perth. They were side-by-side and we drove over both of them, of course only because of traffic issues, before helpful Paddle 2005 signs guided us the rest of the way.

Amy spotted an Inazone 230 on the way in, which gave me hope that the show might be more impressive than something back home. We walked around to the front, and found maybe ten more boats for sale chained to bits of bike rack. The collection included a few whitewater kayaks, a handful of sea kayaks and a lake canoe outfitted for whitewater. Nothing was impressively priced. I saw a SPARC and kayak paddle for £230 or £250, which was a bit steep for Amy and me, and not nearly enough of a playboat for her. We went inside and paid £5/ea to be underwhelmed by the deals we found. Consolation was that the £5 went to the SCA, so a decent enough cause.

The show was held inside the Bell Sport Centre, which was essentially a gymnasium. The different vendors had booths scattered throughout. The canoeing outfitters that I expected to see based on the website information weren’t there. Only a handful of lake canoes were there, but that I expected. I suppose I did see the outfitters, just my expectations and reality didn’t match up. The deals on kit were underwhelming. We saw some factory second Ainsworth *whitewater* canoe paddles that looked interesting: light-weight, proper sizes, not too clunky for gripping and a decent price (2 for £30). We didn’t find much else – the sales brought some kit down to normal-ish prices back home, but nothing was a real “deal”. And, of course, some of the prices were appalling, like £8 for a Nalgene bottle.

After scoping out the car park one last time, where Amy discovered her coveted Inazone was sold to someone else and we found no other deals, we bought a pair of the Ainsworth canoe paddles and headed up to Stanley for a short river trip.

With the highway map, the guidebook, and better than half a tank of gas, we found our way to the car park at the get-out without too much excitement. Reverse continued to get better than the average amount of use. The rain was pouring down, bordering on torrential as we pulled in to the car park. We saw Robin there with some of the same group from the Awe trip last weekend. Lucas and I hiked down the steep path to the river to see what we should be looking for at the end. The stairs that Derek mentioned were there, long and muddy from the water streaming down toward the river. We took note of the waves on river left, the steep bank on river right and the old garbage bag tied to the tree branch dangling by the water, hoping these would be enough markers. By the time we got back to the car park, both of us were soaked through. The torrential rains continued as we drove to the get-in, on the other side of the village of Stanley. The access road wound down by some sheep pastures before becoming quite narrow just above the get-in. We unpacked the boats and gear, and got dressed for the river. By the time we were ready for shuttle, the rain had stopped but the clouds lingered on.

Amy ran shuttle for us – a mile or so back to the car park and then biked back to the get-in. I couldn’t help but think of Bob Pierce and his two-stroke bike moped. Robin had offered to drive us up, as his group would still be at the car park by the time we got there, but we missed connections on that offer. Originally, they were hoping for a two river day, but changed their plans to one river followed by some time at the pub.

Robin’s crew was gone by the time we put-in, but we had enough information to scout the river on our own, as planned. The eddy-line at the get-in was beautifully defined, with the mud in the shallow eddy and the dark earth in the river proper, so we practiced a few break-outs and break-ins before heading down river. The big hassle of the day was the weir, and we weren’t sure how soon to expect it. The weir was Callum’s big reason for not going. He had only seen it once, and it was a bit of a difficult place for rescues since the river was so wide. Turns out, the weir came first, maybe half a kilometer from the get-in. We weren’t sure it was the weir at first, until we saw the telltale concave shape of the white stuff: stoppers.

We got out to scout on the river left bank, and gave Amy a short lesson on water reading. The three lines that Derek mentioned were breaks in the weir on river left, river centre and river right. He said the biggest waves are river centre, but there’s a good line on the left. The right could be bad, as metal spikes and such from the decaying weir might make upside down a bad place to be. At the get-in, Robin had explained why the breaks in the weir existed – some fishermen had tried to blow it up. I couldn’t help but wonder, why the animosity between the two groups, if fishermen don’t like the dams as much as the paddlers don’t like them?

We opted for river left passage of the weir since that gave us the best options for rescue. The centre line looked good, but a swim would be a long recovery. With only three of us, left looked more prudent. Each of us took a different stunt line. I went first, scraping far left over part of the remaining spillway before hitting the chute I wanted just by the left bank. There wasn’t really enough water for my line, so Amy went a little right of my line, hit the stopper a little sideways, which spit her into the tongue that was difficult to get to farther right. Lucas aimed for that tongue and got stuck on a rock. A few scrapes later and we were all safely in eddies below.

The rest of the river lacked many proper rapids. There were waves everywhere, and sometimes the chaos of the high water level made for waves coming from more than one direction, including lateral waves. Two weekends in a row found us out west! What stoppers we did find were tough for any kind of playing because the river was moving too fast. Ferry glides from one riverbank to the other were nearly impossible. Out west indeed, except nothing was quite as big as we saw on the River Awe.

Around the bend after the weir, after bopping through many a wave, I decided I wanted an eddy. We saw some people getting ready to fish, and I pulled in maybe a hundred metres below them. Not out of side, but definitely out of the way. I enjoyed my eddy for a minute before Lucas and Amy caught up. Since this was *our* trip, we decided to look for a lunch spot, and found a suitable location maybe a few hundred metres farther downstream, by an old house that looked quite uninhabited. The rapid just above it caught me by surprise. I was leading, and I thought it was just a little ledge, until I was too close to do anything about it. It was a much bigger ledge, but I found a sweet spot between two massive-looking stoppers. Amy took a path through a stopper and Lucas followed my line. Lunch was due for sure. We looked around a little, saw some development up the hill some, but decided we were safe for this trip. It probably wouldn’t stay that way for too many more trips, though. Sadly. Lunch was good – it felt a little bit like breaking the rules compared to the other kayak club trips, which all of us enjoyed. The sun poked through the clouds a little as we finished our snacks.

After lunch, we paddled on, drifting downstream through more waves and boogie water, occasionally finding defined wave trains, and occasionally finding stoppers than none of us could reach by ferry glide. The Tay at flood was fun, but mildly unnerving for that out of control feeling. The get-out came too soon. Robin had told me to look for a house on a cliff on river right, and the get-out followed soon after, also on river right. It was as he said, and the rapid we had scouted from the bank was there on river left. Getting into the river right eddy took some effort.

The climb from the river to the trail was an awkward grunt of maybe fifteen feet. After we dragged boats and kit up, we admired the river. The sun was out completely, blue sky and puffy clouds to boot. The fall colours in the trees seemed to glisten in the light. The end of our trip reminded me of many a Tennessee trip – nasty weather to weed out the faint of heart followed by a beautiful clear day.

The long grunt to the car park seemed less strenuous without the heavy rain and the water gushing down the sketchy stairs. We beat Robin’s group to the car park because just after our get-out was a beautiful surfing wave that we didn’t know about. Next time. The clock read 2pm, so we finished faffing, changing, loading boats, retrieving the bike and headed back to the canoe expo. The owner of the SPARC was looking to make a sale and Amy did some fine haggling for me, so I walked away with a C-1-to-be. The sales inside were still nothing special, but we found some familiar faces. Chris and Rhian were shopping for kit. David had his kids with him and they were intermittently interested in the Canadian canoe and the inflatable pull toy/windsurfer. Future paddlers, I’m sure, and Lucas and I couldn’t help but appreciate their interest for the Canadian canoe. We saw a collection of Woodies for sale at one of the booths, but it wasn’t produced by anyone we knew.

The crazy Charlie was at the SCA booth. Amy had her eye on his S:6, but he wasn’t in a bargaining mindset, so she walked away empty-handed, except for the kayak paddle that came with my C-1-to-be. She might scope out the Tyne fest next weekend for possible boat deals. With all of the uni clubs and such, it might not be a bad place for boat shopping.

In the end, I spent £195 for a kayak, kayak paddle and two canoe paddles. Not a bad haul. We enjoyed a pleasant day on the river and got at least part of what we wanted from the show. Now Lucas and I have a long-term project of converting my new kayak to a C-1, and promises of entertainment once I’ve succeeded. We also have the proper kit for our Canadian, so someday soon it will get paddled, sooner than the C-1-to-be.


Lucas was kind enough to haul my new toy up to the flat.

Saturday, October 29, 2005

In Awe of the Awe? -- 23/10/05

After a good week of on/off raining, the October beginner trip was held on the Awe, a dam release run. It was advertised as a bit more than just a rank beginner run because of the Graveyard, which by descriptions was a longish grade II section at normal flow. Poor Amy had the car full of foreigners: Lucas and me and Matt from New Zealand. With the chilly, cloudy day, and perhaps the intimidation of the Graveyard, not too many beginners turned up for the run. Just a couple of new-to-town foreigners and Amy got stuck with the lot of us. On the drive up, we discovered that New Zealand kit has the same names as American kit, although their on-river maneuvers and such are the same as the British.

There was a crowd forming at the Awe get-in when we arrived. As we were getting changed, an alarm sounded and from the looks of things, the only open sluice was opened to allow more flow. One sluice open makes the whole run grade II. Three sluices open make it much more of a full-on run, pushing into grade III. We had one sluice, but quite a bit of water from that one sluice. We split into three groups. Poor Amy got dragged away with the first group, so she spent the better part of the day feeling scared. Big waves and not a lot of guidance. The other Charlie was leading her group, and she said he kept disappearing before anything important. We paddled with Robin, Matt, a guy whose name I don’t know, Iona and Rory, and two other girls whose names I don’t remember. Rory was brand new to a whitewater kayak that weekend, so he needed some extra attention getting through it all.

The Graveyard was first. Based on the guidebook and the other people talking, I expected a section of class II, but it was just a II+ rapid, maybe fifty yards long. Stay left and follow the wave train or contend with some pretty large rocks in the way. Hence the name graveyard, in the Scottish tradition of rapids with fierce, manly names. The rapids that followed were shorter, but similar in nature. Big, bouncy waves and perhaps the occasional friendly stopper. Occasionally, boaters would disappear in the bigger wave trains. The waves were much bigger than I expected, although there were never any consequences beyond a swim. Although not difficult or technical, it’s not the sort of run where I would take a beginner – no consequences, but plenty of opportunity to flip. One of the big wave trains was a rapid called Magnetic Boulder, but I’m not sure which one it was. The waves bounce along making you feel like you might hit the big pile of rocks on the river bank as the river turned, but I can think of more than one spot like that. I kept wondering what the river might look like, how big the waves might be, with three sluices instead of our “paltry” one. By the end of the day, poor Rory had chalked up five swims in just 6km of paddling. Early on, Callum showed signs of catching up to him, but I’ll attribute those swims to post-Findhorn jitters.

To my Southeastern paddle, the river felt a bit like the Nantahala and Tuck Gorge. It wasn’t as difficult as the Nanny and it wasn’t as technical as the Tuck Gorge, with mostly big waves and boogie water rapids. I needed one low brace and Lucas needed a few high braces in spots. Like the Nanny, the fast water made for some dynamic eddy turns and peel outs, I mean break-ins and break-outs.

In awe of the Awe? Not so much, but it was a pleasant enough paddle. The mini-gorge section was pretty nice, and the grade 4 climbing sheep that we saw grazing in the hills on the drive in were pretty fun. I couldn't help but wonder what the river would look like if Loch Awe's dam wasn't there.

The narrow suspension footbridge marked the get-out, just after Rory’s fifth swim of the day. Like the guidebook said, we had to carry across a cow pasture, although fencing and disinterested cows ensured that our carry was only long, instead of long and eventful. The Inverawe Fisheries and Smokehouse car park was quite full by the time we arrived. Amy was in better spirits than the time we saw her mid-trip. Her group was the first to arrive and her non-tripleader had disappeared (again). We changed out of river clothes, loaded boats and then enjoyed some hot chocolate and tea from the Smokehouse, a great way to end a chilly day on the river.

Thursday, October 27, 2005

The River Findhorn revisited

Amy gave me some pictures from the Findhorn trip. Below are a few good ones.


The Findhorn drops into a nice little gorge.


A race begins as the river gets shallow...


...we're nose to nose on the shingles...


and Ali takes the lead by a shove.


Here I am entering the second drop of the Carnage Corner


Lucas tackles the Carnage Corner as Callum demonstrates his self rescue skills.


look at that face

Tuesday, October 18, 2005

River Findhorn – 10/8/05 or 8/10/05 if you’re British

We went on a weekend away with the kayak club, with the lot of us (22, I think) sharing a bunkhouse in Aviemore, which is about three hours northish from Edinburgh. I wasn’t driving, so “ish” is as definitive as I’m going to get. It was a bit of a fiasco getting organized, but by Friday morning, we had a plan and by Friday evening, we were in the back of Robin’s car heading north. These things tend to work themselves out. Usually. Hopefully.

Not knowing the rivers or the levels (except that not much rain had been collecting), we opted for solo kayaks for the weekend instead of round 2 with the Topo Duo. Bob and Jean might be a bit disappointed? Then again, given Bob’s minimum levels with the Duo, they might agree.

How does one fit twenty-two kayakers into approximately three rooms? Carefully and creatively stack them. The bunkhouse claims to sleep twenty-four, but several perches are strictly for couples who don’t believe in claustrophobia.

Saturday divided into two groups. The grade 4/5 paddlers, and perhaps a few aspiring wannabes headed for the Meig. The grade 2/3 paddlers and the faint of heart headed for the Findhorn. The River Meig is a little bit more than a micro-creek, but is never too low to run. It’s dam release, but because of the salmon, there’s always a minimum trickle from the dam, making a scrape possible on the Meig. Mind you, a scrape on the Meig still has plenty of challenging rapids and big drops. It’s a solid grade 4 run. The River Findhorn is sort of like the River Meig in that you can scrape down it nearly year-round, but it’s a free-flowing run, so that’s not a guarantee. We headed for the Middle Findhorn along with fearless leader Andy, Jenny, Andrea, Callum, Amy and Ali.

Bump and scrape on the River Findhorn reminded me a lot of bump and scrape on Jett to Lilly. Nothing was too pushy, but there were plenty of little rocks to inspire the most creative of non-threatening pins. Except perhaps for Carnage Corner, but we’ll get there later.

We put in at an old church near a slightly famous bell tower. Names may be added to that description later, but for now “old church” will suffice. The first rapid gave us a taste of the bumps and scrapes to come, and provided the most difficulty until about halfway through the run. I gave up on eddy hopping through a lot of the rapids because that was the easiest way to get stuck on a rock. The rapids were probably longish shoals at higher water, but at our level, they were games of pinball around every corner. I did Diann’s hoochie coochie as best I could, but occasionally enjoyed an extended scout perched atop a no longer submerged rock.

After several kilometers of bumping and scraping, we passed under a bridge. Lucas asked Andy if it was made of sandstone. He said yes. Then Jenny said it was granite and commented about how boys just make stuff up if they don’t know the answer. After the bridge, the difficulty increased a bit, with a rapid that Lucas thought was similar to Rock In The Way on Whites Creek. I think it’s more apt to call it Rock Not Really In The Way, because RITW feels like you’re going to hit it, even though you really won’t. RNRITW doesn’t feel like that at all, but there is indeed a big boulder that you won’t hit as you run the rapid.

The shoals got easier to run as we headed downstream. More gradient seemed to lead to narrower passages in the crucial spots, although some extended scouts continued to be enjoyed by all in the group. A few more technical drop/pool rapids and shoals led us to a big, nearly 180o curve into a large eddy that signaled the big rapid of the day was just up ahead. All of the flow runs through a mini-gorge within the gorge that’s probably twenty feet across and provides the steepest gradient of the day. The guidebook names this rapid Wall of Death perhaps because as the river drops the fifteen or twenty feet in perhaps fifty or so feet, it runs past a wall that’s difficult to not scrape a paddle against. Is that the Wall of Death or are the stoppers that form in the channel at higher water? Either way, I wasn’t all that intimidated. As I was running the rapid, Andrea gave me the gentle reminder to paddle. I really didn’t need it, but I thanked her anyway so that in future situations, she wouldn’t question whether to remind me or not.

If I might digress for a moment, the Scots need to learn a few things about naming rapids. Not everything has to be fierce and manly. Perhaps they can take a few lessons from Southeastern boaters? Wall of Death reminded me of a Middle Tellico rapid called Fat Man’s Squeeze, because the boulders on both sides of the rapid neck the line down to a fairly small slot before opening back up to the big friendly pool. Fat Man’s Squeeze is much more fun of a name than Wall of Death. Then there’s the custom to name something after someone having an epically bad run. That’s sort of a dubious honor, but makes for fun stories down the road. Now granted, Wall of Death is supposed to have some pretty good stoppers at higher flows, but still! Terry Johnson should come out here and rename some rapids to his naming scheme of Big Fluffy Puppy and Big Fluffy Kitty. Although, at our water level, Sweet Scrapey Puppy was more like it.

After the big Wall of Death, we had a few more bumps and scrapes before the last big rapid of the day. Andy said start just right of center but definitely end up left. About halfway through, I saw why. River right was just a big pile of rocks. The guidebook describes it as a natural weir and that seems about right. Some water trickles through but it’s really not such a fun place to be. I made it just left of the “natural weir” rocks and saw Callum upside down in the pool below them just above another shallow pourover. He must have gotten turned around in the big eddy. He couldn’t run the pourover upside down. He couldn’t really roll either. He was just sort of sitting there upside down. In the split second I had to decide about the big eddy line that flipped him, I decided I couldn’t really do anything useful in that pool except add to the carnage, so I continued down the last drop and caught the river left eddy in time to see Ali self-rescuing in the distance. This was the Carnage Corner and it claimed two that day.

Below the Carnage Corner was a long friendly pool that led to a short grunt of an egress to the lay-by at Relugas Bridge. We found dry clothes and then ate lunch while shuttle was being run. I’m not sure I like this custom of not eating lunch mid-trip, on a convenient river bank. I can understand it in the middle of winter, when the clock is ticking, but not in the early parts of October when there is plenty of faffing to be enjoyed without the pressure of the clock.

Once we were all packed, we headed to Jenny’s to celebrate Charlie’s birthday without him. He organized the weekend away, but opted out of it to work on his kitchen remodel at home. I understand the need, but he missed out on some fine carrot cake.

Our otherwise nice trip leader had a fit of macho idiot syndrome, so I opted out of day 2 on the Upper Findhorn. Lucas went, so perhaps he’ll have some words to say about that trip.

Tuesday, October 11, 2005


The River Findhorn from Relugas Bridge. If you squint, you can see the rapid "Carnage Corner" at the bend in the river. It's mightier than it looks, and it forced two swims on our trip.


Loading boats takes about as much faffing and creativity as back home.


We celebrated Charlie's birthday with carrot cake....


without him


A common view along Scottish riverbanks.

The camera's back! Sort of....

So magically, the digital camera resurrected itself after sleeping in a drawer for the past few weeks. It's not perfect. The small glass thing that you look through shows an image broken into a number of vertical bars. The viewfinder works great, but it's a battery suck. The card reader showed up at the same time, so I was able to download the old pictures from the camera as well as some much more recent test shots. Enjoy!


Pease Bay -- now you know why the surf was intimidating!


Pease Bay again


Look! It's a bat!


The camera resurrected itself....


For now.

Monday, October 03, 2005

Nearly Dry Adventuring along Leith's Waterfront

Over the weekend, Lucas and I went on a quest for Tiso's, the local outfitter. Judging by the descriptions from the EKC crew, I was expecting a European version of REI -- plenty of clothing, perhaps some camping, hiking and climbing gear, er I mean kit, and maybe a few token pieces of boating gear. Mostly, we went as an excuse to hang out by the water (it's on Commercial Street, not quite spitting distance from the Firth of Forth) and enjoy some time surrounded by gear. Tiso's was easy to find -- the pile of boats out front gave them away. We were pleasantly surprised when we found both of the SCA books we wanted. We spent maybe an hour wandering the shop. The paddling selection aside from the basic kit was lacking, but it wasn't of much consequence. After we tired of Tiso's, we walked west along Commercial Street, and whatever street it becomes, until we found the water. Then we stumbled in through the wrong door of a restaurant that made me think we were in the Scottish version of Chuck E. Cheese's. We almost were. There was a section isolated from the ball pits and child vomit that we could hear each other speak, and the food looked entertaining even if it wasn't good, so we decided to have lunch there. Lunch turned out to be pretty good, and of course, the desserts were excellent. After lunch, we walked more, hoping to work off at least part of our lunch, enjoying a nice windy day along the waterfront near Leith. In the absence of a real camera, I had some fun with the camera phone.







Saturday, October 01, 2005

River Teith: Bob and Jean would be so proud – 9/25/05

Our first outing with the Edinburgh Kayak Club was a beginner trip on the River Teith (pronounced teeth). I had met some people at the pool on Tuesday and found my way onto the listserv by Wednesday morning, just in time for the flurry of trip emails. By week’s end, our choices were a Saturday trip on the Leny (a gnarly grade III-V) or the beginner trip on the Teith (grade I/II). Hanging out with the beginners seemed the more sensible introduction to Scottish whitewater.

Saturday night was filled with last minute trip preparations. Where was the gear? What should be packed? In what? Before the morning, we picked the most water-resistant duffel bag for gear and fit two people’s worth of river kit (gear) into it. I navigated the Lothian bus routes to find the bus that would get us to the lockup. We needed the 38 and it turns out there’s only one number 38 on Sunday mornings. We were lucky – it could’ve been a long walk with a cumbersome bag. Ok, for me, it just would have been a long walk.

We were early to the lockup and therefore uncertain about the location until the first car with a boat arrived. Slowly, the boaters trickled in and the doors of the lockup opened to unveil our boat selection. Their Canadian was an Old Town Discovery 168. Virtually indestructible, but we weren’t allowed to take it on this trip. Lacking proper flotation, none of the boaters who knew the river and were willing to drive us there were willing to chase a fully laden 17ft canoe down the river. Fair enough. As I was looking at the solo kayaks, Lucas was more excited about the Topo Duo.

I had my eye on a nice, newer InaZone 232 when Lucas distracted me with the Topo Duo. We laid it out on the grass outside the lockup only to discover it lacked the proper hardware to be paddled, specifically, foot pegs or bulkheads. Someone found the bulkheads and started cannibalizing the most ancient of boats for bolts. In the meantime, the InaZone was claimed by another.

I have to admit, Lucas was more excited about the Topo Duo than I was. Many moons ago, I had said, wouldn’t it be a laugh to take one of those for a spin, and he was the more skeptical one. Now, the opportunity was here and I was the skeptical one. Perhaps the new river had me jittery? Whatever it was, I decided to take the chance. What was the worst that could happen? I’d swim a grade II river. Better, I’d make Lucas swim a grade II river. Why worry? Topo Duo it was. Bob and Jean would be so proud.

We caught a ride up to the get-in (put-in) with distinguished company. The club secretary (Charlie) was at the wheel and the club treasurer (David) was riding shotgun. Instead of the usual 3+ hours of driving, we had maybe an hour to the get-in. Like the drive to Pease Bay, we enjoyed a taste of the Scottish countryside, except this time we were heading inland.

We unpacked at the get-in and the drivers took care of shuttle. Some of the access points here are fancy paved car parks where one might have to pay a few quid to park for a few hours. We launched in a still pool at one of the river bends and divided into two groups for the day’s trip. We paddled with Charlie and David, as well as Callum, Chris and Chris’s daughter Rhian. Callum was getting ready for his three star assessment and Rhian was getting ready for her two star assessment, so David did quite a bit of coaching as we worked down the river. Lucas and I had to get used to each other in the same kayak – a bit different and a bit more difficult than being in the same canoe. We started with break-ins, break-outs and ferry glides (eddy turns, peel-outs and ferries) behind the first bridge as our warm up.

Not long after, the river picked up into grade I+ rapids. It was more continuous than either of us expected – we were expecting drop/pool like many of the Cumberland Plateau runs we’re used to paddling. We practiced our break-ins, break-outs and ferry glides, trying to get the hang of working together. Practice helped a lot. Our biggest problems of the day came when we weren’t communicating enough or when we were trying to make left side moves… not all that different from Canadian canoeing!

One skill that the Scottish paddlers emphasize more than their American cousins was the back ferry. That was interesting in the Topo Duo!

As we continued downriver, the rapids picked up in difficulty. The river stayed pretty continuous in pace, although plenty of space still separated the noteworthy rapids. In many an eddy, we found ourselves next to a sheep pasture with several critters staring at us or minding their own bits of grass. We had an unexpected boof/scrape into one eddy when we misread the horizon line. Several sheep seemed to enjoy the show before continuing on with their usual sheep business of tending to their lawn. Sheep are so cute when they run. I couldn’t help but think of McCool and his baaaaaaaaad sheep jokes. Best keep him away from the Teith!

The grade I+/II- culminated in two grade II rapids. One had a big boulder in the center where the regular line was to the left of the boulder and the challenging line involved catching the eddy just behind the boulder. We continued left into a whitewater jungle tour, where thick trees lined both banks and occasionally branches required ducking or dodging to pass. Small waves kept the lines interesting along the tour. The second grade II had two parts. We managed to have both groups run the first part together, which made things a little exciting for the newbies as well as the trip leader. The second part we ran separately. Both parts were fun bouncy waves, bigger than the previous waves, but of no extra consequence beyond a face full of water.

We paddled on to the eddy with the stick gauge that marked our takeout. The gauge had our water level at 2’ exactly. A short climb out across a slippery clay path led to the lay by where the vehicles waited. We chatted, loaded boats, chatted more while Charlie retrieved his truck, loaded more boats and headed for home. It felt great doing a whitewater day trip that was truly a day trip for us. We stumbled home a little after 6pm after a great day of paddling with new friends.