River Tay (Stanley) from the Beginner’s Perspective – 10/12/05

A flurry of text messages and phone calls led to a half-baked plan to do a river double-header in almost-winter Scotland. Bram, Amy and I would run the River Tay at Stanley to give me a proper beginner’s christening in C-1, and then we would head to the River Ericht at Blairgowrie for a wee taste of something harder. After the paddle, we would retreat to Bram’s cottage in St. Andrews for tea and perhaps dinner, and Lucas would join us there by train. It was a brilliant plan, except for it being the tenth of December, where daylight greets us at half eight and twilight returns before four. As we rolled from Edinburgh after sunrise, only the River Tay was in the paddling cards for us that day.

Still, the River Tay was a perfect introduction to the joys of C-1. Having seen it twice already, once in the range of high and flood and a second time at more of a medium flow, I knew the river well enough and felt comfortable enough drifting downstream with a hint of control here and there. We met Bram at the get-out, which offers a more luxurious area for changing than the get-in, and then piled boats and bodies into Bram’s car to head to the get-in. We found a few open boaters getting ready there and enjoyed a wee chat before setting off ourselves.

Like our Pakboat trip, the river was low enough that paddling upstream was possible. We didn’t go as far up as the portage to the whirlpools, but far enough for some swift current and eddies. I did ok with awkward break-ins and break-outs, and I even managed to turn a bad break-in into a surf, but the ferry glide across the swift current didn’t work out as well as it could. Starting from far river right, it took me at least a hundred yards and a spin or two to get close enough to the river left eddy to give up and float downstream. Another time. Being in control on Day 1 wasn’t really an expectation of mine.

Downstream from the get-in was the biggest rapid of the day, the weir that the fishermen didn’t completely destroy. I was nervous, but confident enough to try my luck with the centre line. Again, the far left line that we chose on the high-to-flood trip was dry. Both Amy and Bram caught the big eddy on the right just after the big drop. I didn’t even look at it, and instead concentrated on surviving the big wave train. I found myself surprised at how easily I rode through the wave train. I didn’t even bobble. I did learn that if you lean back a little, the boat crests the waves even easier.

After a successful path through the wave train, I decided to find a river left eddy, leaving the big eddy where we nearly impaled Emily on the last trip as sort of a last resort eddy. Each time I saw a potential eddy, I saw a stopper below it that I didn’t want to test. I’d paddle left a little and then paddle right a wee harder. I thought twice doesn’t really count as a pattern as I caught the Emily-impaling eddy and waited for Bram and Amy to catch up. Since they were far enough behind, I decided to stretch out my legs. Patrick Wilson’s suggestion that I get used to not feeling my legs was spot on as I half-crawled, half-slithered onto the river bank for a wee rest. My legs took at least a minute to get to where I felt safe putting weight on them. So what did I do at that point? I hopped back in the boat and put them back to sleep.

Post-weir, the river offers a series of wave trains, with most of the best being on river left. As we headed downstream, I caught the occasional eddy with very little bobbling. Bram and Amy caught more, so either I was way ahead as scout or way behind as sweep. The only remaining challenge of a rapid was the last one, and only because I thought it might be awkward, so I enjoyed catching friendly eddies along the rapids in between. Amy had an awkward day of half-playing because she was determined not to flip and therefore tentative with edging and therefore getting played by the water more than she wanted. Funny how that works.

The last rapid of the day proved easy enough. Bram and Amy attempted to surf, but I just plowed through to the bottom. I solved a wee bobble with a short low brace, and arrived triumphantly at the get-out with no swims to my name. They continued down to the surf spot for one last go before the long carry up and out.

I discovered that the Atom is significantly heavier than any kayak I have ever paddled. Like the canoe, there was no way I could carry it up the steep parts without hurting myself. Amy helped for a while and then Bram, perhaps feeling guilty, stepped in. We changed clothes partially, loaded boats and then headed to have a look at the Ericht and perhaps a go at paddling it.

Between the faffing and the late start, we arrived at the River Ericht after 2pm. From the get-out car park, it’s a short hike down to a footbridge across the river that offers optimal guessing at the water level. If the rocks are all underwater, the river is runnable. The degree of rock exposure determines the degree of scraping along the run. From the mandatory portage weir down to the grade 5 it could kill you Linn, all of the rocks were underwater. The Ericht was running. I could tell both Amy and Bram were keen to have a go, but I was concerned about the daylight. We talked through the math of current time to sunset to corrected gorge sunset and I felt guilty making the decision against running it. We decided to walk a bit and scout the last stretch for a future run. We walked up past the weir, examined a few rapids and located the get-out eddy before returning to the cars. That trek took maybe twenty minutes. Then we drove to scout the get-in and along the way the darkness started to creep in. I felt a hundred percent better about my decision as we reached the get-in layby and examined the long pitch down to the invisible get-in. There would be other days and, based on the limited views between the get-out and get-in, I was keen to find one of those days sooner rather than later.

Somewhere between the villages of Stanley and Blairgowrie, I realised that I had unplugged the phone that morning to check water levels without waking Lucas. I hoped that he would notice the lack of dialtone and then notice the lack of connection to the wall, rather than just wait for me to come home to tell me the phone was broken. Guiltily, I helped with the shopping for dinner food, pushing Amy through the store in the shopping cart as the other patrons gawked and whispered.

On the drive between the Dundee Tesco and Bram’s cottage, Lucas made the discovery about the phone, corrected it and phoned. We talked him the rest of the way into joining us. The plan had him phoning us upon arrival so we could retrieve him from the station. In the meantime, we drank tea, prepared dinner, snacked and played with fire. After about half an hour of our presence, Momo the cat decided to investigate us a little closer. As the guacamole was prepared in the kitchen, she found herself torn between continued back scratching if she stayed in my lap or potential treat if she abandoned her position. Unbeknownst to her, the treat was for us, not her, but she chose the wiser of the options anyway.

Just before dinner was complete, Bram decided to go to the train anyway to see if Lucas was there. If he caught the early train (unlikely) he would have been waiting a while. If he caught the later train, he would be arriving, or waiting already. He returned and we enjoyed a nice dinner followed by some quality lounging time by the fire. More trips need to end like this.