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canoeing, kayaking and other adventures

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

Friday, January 27, 2006

River Dochart – 22/1/2006

Lucas has found a new set of the playmates on an open canoe forum called Song of the Paddle, named after the famous canoeing book. On Sunday, after another spate of rain, we headed to the River Dochart with Amy and Bram for another open canoe outing with some imaginary-until-now. Six boats made the trip. The tandem teams were Alan and Mutineering Maggie, Philip and Robert, Amy and Bram, and Lucas and me. Dave of Stirling Canoes and two-L Allan paddled solo.

The guidebook rated the River Dochart a 2/3 and gave vague descriptions of the river leaving Crianlarich, passing through two lochs and heading approximately east toward Killin and Loch Tay. The Falls of Dochart in the village of Killin are rated a 4/4+, but the SotP trip planned egress significantly above this point. It turned out, except for one rocky grade 3 rapid, the 2/3 designation was not appropriate for this part of the trip. The River Dochart was pretty well a flatwater trip between Crianlarich and the get-out above Lix Toll.

The River Dochart was an absolutely gorgeous flatwater trip. The river flowed roughly eastward with the snow-capped Ben More looming in the distance ahead. The Cononish becomes the Fillan and then the Dochart. The guidebook suggests we started on the Cononish, but the online version suggests it is the Dochart at this point. Whatever river meandered east into Loch Dochart. We took a quick break to inspect the ruins of a wee castle on the loch that was inhabited by monks in the 16th Century and is where Rob Roy MacGregor is rumored to have taken refuge during his outlaw days.

The upper loch (Loch Dochart) is channeled through a wee river to the lower loch (Loch Iubhair), which is in turn channeled into the River Dochart proper. Not long after the River Dochart emerges, some grade 1/1+ rapids appear. We had some fun attempting to surf and watching SuperDave pole. The river that followed was flat, with the occasional intricate grade 1 rapid. We eddy hopped and watched as Philip instructed Amy and Bram on how to turn left. As a result, their left turns improved dramatically and their right turns went to hell.

The Pakboat handling in the rocky stretches was odd. We had been warned that an unladen Pakboat does not handle as smoothly as a fully-laden Pakboat. Lacking the weight in the middle, the Pakboat forms a sort of anti-rocker. Canoe-shaped craft, not quite raft-like handling. I am not really sure how to describe the handling other than just odd. Every time we hit a rock, it felt like Lucas was jumping up and down in the back of the boat.

Stomachs and brains requested lunch so we began to search for a spot. Dave suggested we stop before the rapid since at the rapid, seating might be a bit awkward. Too late. The roar of the Corriechaorach rapid suggested we had run out of good places. We hopped out to scout. Several parties opted to run the rapid – a rocky grade 3 – and others opted to line along the bank. I opted for photo and rope duty at the bottom.

SuperDave had talked about lining, until Lucas had talked seriously about running. SuperDave went first, running a bumpy but clean line just left of center. Lucas came a bit later, having taken a moment to put on his dry suit “just in case”, and ran a nicer line a hair to the right of Dave’s (and pretty well exactly my fantasy line from the perspective of the bottom). Amy and Bram came last. They chose a line about two feet to the right of Lucas and Dave’s lines. Their line became exciting when they paddled straight over the rock that everybody decided would be good to avoid. The rock kicked them right, into a stopper that donated a few gallons of water to their canoe. Four digital cameras captured their surprise, Amy’s resulting air brace, Bram’s low brace and their eventual recovery. Philip and Robert enjoyed the entertainment during their portage across the river right rocks. Two-L Allan as well as Alan and Maggie took the portage route as well. We lunched on the big pile of rocks at the bottom of the rapid.

After lunch and tea, Robert decided he was too dry and tipped his canoe getting back in. He and Philip bailed as the rest of us loaded up to continue. Around the bend from our lunch stop, Philip and Robert decided they were both too warm, broached their canoe on a rock and took a wee excursion into the water. Swimmers, boat and all gear except a stuff sack were recovered in good order. The trip continued downstream.

We swapped seats around to the whitewater configuration, hoping to get better traction with the Pakboat. It changed the handling in such a way that now we had a more obvious excuse for being slow. Alan and Maggie zoomed ahead, we loped along in the back, alternating between last and second-to-last in the group. The group took a break in an eddy so Allan and then Amy could try their luck at poling. Amy also tried her luck with a headstand in the bow of the boat. We continued downstream.

Over the course of the 20km trip, the river alternated between little to no current, mild to moderate current and then back to little-to-no. Wildlife sightings included deer, whooper swans, dippers, mallards, goldeneyes, goosanders, buzzards and one long-tailed tit according to Mutineering Maggie. My eyes could identify a few – the swans, mallards and buzzards to be specific. I missed the deer. Not quite wildlife included sheep and Highland coos. In total, we spent about six hours on the water, and found ourselves knackered and ravenous at the get-out. Six hours of river trip in January coupled with a start well after sunrise meant that once again we were loading canoes in the dark.


Ben More (a Munro) looms in the distance downstream from the River Dochart get-in.


On Eilean Iubhair in Loch Dochart are the ruins of a wee castle where Rob Roy MacGregor is rumored to have used as a hideaway.


Loch Dochart


SuperDave shows off his poling skills.


Lucas ran a clean line.


What are they pointing at?


Amy and Bram find their focus, and a few extra gallons of water, atop the rock they meant to avoid.


Amy entertains herself and us.

Upper River Isla – 14/1/2006

All week, the rain gods favored us with glistening water from above. When we stuffed ourselves and our canoe into Amy’s wee car, we had options across the entire country. The reading and gauge watching that Lucas and I did the night before narrowed our search to the region of Angus, north of Dundee (“up fae Dundee” in the whitewater book). On the drive to the boat shed, Bram and I talked about rivers and levels. We arrived as undecided as before, with the group headed to the Orchy in the midst of packing. We swapped adventure stories while packing and said our good-byes. Stuffing ourselves into the back of the car took some creativity, but we managed to find space for everything. We picked up Amy’s bike for shuttle and headed north.

Somewhere around the tallest hedge I have ever seen, Bram chose the Upper River Isla for our outing of the day. His basic criteria were fun-sounding grade 2 whitewater and no portages. The Upper Isla gave us 13km of exactly that. The SCA guidebook is not terribly specific in its descriptions of the rapids or how to get to the access points, but to its credit, it did stress the importance of not missing the get-out above Reekie Linn, a 50m grade 6 waterfall. Bram’s knowledge of the backroads (he doesn’t believe in maps) meant poor Amy ended up cycling nearly twice the shuttle she should have. The Pakboat was still not fully assembled when she returned, but it was close.

The important part of all the impromptu organizing was we launched on the Upper River Isla with a vague sense of what lie ahead and excitement to find it. Lucas and I led the way and Bram and Amy followed. Their left turns were still a bit creative, with beaching a frequent occurrence. My helpful advice to catch a left eddy resulted in their first swim from the canoe, so I promised to stop being so helpful. After dumping the water at the bank, each went running along the river to warm up before hopping back into the canoe to continue. Sadly, we photographed neither event.

As we continued down the river, the whitewater increased from grade 1+ to grade 2 within a few kilometers. The book said it would get continuous near a village. It got continuous, but I never noticed any village. The Upper Isla was never terribly wide, maybe 30 to 50 meters, tops, so in fast, rocky grade 2 water, catching eddies with 17 feet of canoe was challenging and impractical. It was read and run in the literal sense – reading then running worked only occasionally. The rapids continued for several kilometers. Lucas and I enjoyed both the mental and physical challenges of keeping up with the river. Amy and Bram appeared to enjoy the challenges as well. Sometimes they followed our lines, sometimes not. Sometimes they got creative, such as Bram’s boulder crunch low brace.

The boulder crunch low brace resulted in a few extra gallons of weight in their boat, so we took a quick break at the bank. The eddy was not quite canoe-sized, until the first canoe made enough eddy for the second canoe. After dumping the water out, Amy and Bram made their second chicken-crazed run up and down the bank for warmth. Warmth not quite achieved, we continued downriver anyway.

There were two long sections of continuous grade 2 whitewater, with more rapids scattered above and below these sections. Each of the big sections ended with a turn around a bend into a rather large standing wave. The first caught us by surprise, and we found ourselves drifting sideways toward it. A few quick paddle strokes got us facing downstream and out of its path. Because they were following us, Bram and Amy didn’t notice it right away, or at least Amy didn’t because she screamed when she did. They managed to not run it sideways or straight through the middle, so it worked out all right in the end.

After the second longer whitewater section, we found a spot for lunch and beached the boats for a little while. Lunch was quite elaborate, including leftover casserole, crisps and homemade salsa, oranges, manxego cheese and vanilla trifle (with chocolate accents, of course). Lunch was followed by more chicken running and then we hopped in the boats to continue.

The whitewater was less continuous after lunch, but didn’t die out completely. Finally, I had a chance to notice the landscape around us. Barren brownish hills on both sides of the river were dotted with white – sheep grazing on the brush. Occasionally, the sun poked out from behind the clouds. At home in our flat, when we look outside and see sunshine in the winter, we know it is a cold day. On the river, the cloudy days always feel colder. Every time the sun took a break behind the clouds, the temperature seemed to drop. As the day wore on, the sun poking out from behind the clouds made distinguishing rocks from waves all the more challenging, but it was still welcome.

The guidebook warned of an old broken weir just above the get-out, so when the sun reached a certain point in the sky, we started paying a bit more attention for it. A familiar hill loomed in the distance and I knew we would find the weir and the get-out soon. The river split around a few wee islands. I suggested left, since the guidebook said to shoot the weir left, but Lucas wanted the middle line. We noticed the weir under about a foot of water as we were crossing it. The rapids approaching and under the get-out bridge gave us one last nip of adrenaline before we caught the get-out eddy. Motivated by the Reekie Linn below, Amy and Bram made their best-ever river left break-out.

The cold had caught up to all of us, so our first priority was warm clothes. As the sun disappeared, frost began to form on the wet Pakboat. We loaded the club’s canoe on Amy’s car and then Amy and I set out to retrieve her bicycle while Lucas and Bram repacked the Pakboat into its bag. Amy was able to hitchhike part way through the ride, so she only made half of the 11 mile shuttle. On the way back to the bike, she showed me the shortcut that would have cut that ride to more like two miles. Bram will need a while to live that one down.

The post-paddle retreat to Bram’s cottage is becoming a fixture of our winter trips. The warm fire, good food and friendly cat make that part of the trip all the more welcoming.


Upper River Isla


Amy, Bram and the Happy Daisies


A canoe-sized eddy was difficult to find in the whitewater sections.


In case you can't tell from my pink nose, it's cold out.


the get-out bridge

Wednesday, January 25, 2006

Burns Night

At the moment, I owe trip reports on the Upper River Isla and the River Dochart. Both were lovely trips. The Upper Isla was an unexpected whitewater gem. What the River Dochart lacked in adrenalin, it more than compensated with spectacular scenery. I have been slacking with trip reports. Given my excuse is being swamped with work, slacking may not be the appropriate word. Sooner or later, the trip reports will find their way here. In the meantime, here are a few pictures from our Burns Night feast this evening.

Robert Burns' To a haggis was read before the ceremonial splitting of the haggis. A sword is the traditional slicer. We compensated as best we could. Our haggis was wrapped in plastic instead of the traditional sheep stomach. To read the poem on the BBC site, click here. A helpful link provides a Real Audio file with a proper reading of the poem, in case your Scots is a little rusty. Bon appetit!

In the spirit of full disclosure, I must confess to not being a fan of the haggis. I gave it a fair try, five bites, including several with the carrot and tattie mash. The haggis and I were not meant to be.


Minus the silver platter, our Burns Night feast is set.


The haggis is cut


Haggis again


Haggis yet again

Sunday, January 08, 2006


This weir-rapid on the Water of Leith looks like a week version of Oceana on the Tallulah Gorge, complete with a Wee Thing on river left.

Saturday, January 07, 2006

Cycling along Union Canal and the Water of Leith 7/1/2006

There isn't a lot of water right now and there is NO activity on the boards, emails, etc, related to paddling, so we find ourselves in search of "other" adventures. Today, the Union Canal towpath and Water of Leith Visitor Centre were our destinations. We rode through the city (a first for me, for any city) to pick up the trail along the canal. Apparently, the trail runs all the way to the Falkirk Wheel (30ish miles) including a pass by the mountain bike trails in the Pentlands (5-10 miles, I think). We rode to the Water of Leith Visitor Centre to scout a wee portion of the river and perhaps pick up a map. The canal passes over railroad tracks as well as the Water of Leith on bridges, something I had never seen before, so of course I took pictures. The Visitor Centre exhibits are pretty fun. It is definitely somewhere I would have taken my Fluid Mechanics class had a similar resource existed in Nashville. The map cost £1, so it seemed silly to not buy it. Between Balerno and the Firth of Forth, I counted sixteen weirs. I'd guess that the distance is no more than ten miles, probably less. Sixteen portages in ten miles. That's crazy. We rode a little upstream of the Visitor Centre before turning around to head home. My frozen hands made the decision to return home and my sore butt thanked me when we got there.


Just downstream of the Visitor Centre the Water of Leith passes under Union Canal (yes, the canal is on that bridge) and the east-west railroad tracks.


In the upstream view from the Visitor Centre, a weir is visible. It is one of sixteen that I counted on the map between Balerno and the Firth of Forth.


A wee burn enters the WoL maybe half a mile above the Visitor Centre.


The water quality of the Water of Leith isn't as skanky as I expected. Here anyway.


Poor Lucas is still jonesing for a canoe trip.


I still don't like having my picture taken.

Barcelona! 2/1 - 4/1/06

Barcelona is an awesome city to visit. Miquel and Nacho are awesome tour guides. I can't remember all of the places we visited, but I can remember the wonderful, warm sun that was with us every day. Temperatures hovered in the neighborhood of 13-15C (high 50's for you Fahrenheit people) during the days and never got enormously cold at night. The old city's narrow streets are a maze to the unfamiliar (i.e., us). The newer city streets are much wider and can be quite crowded. Yummy food included tapas (yummy mystery things on bread), cheese, paella, and traditional Spanish breakfast (bread, tomato, olive oil and a hint of salt with ham, cheese and/or other goodies). The kiwi were on steroids. For most of the wandering, I left the camera at home because I was more in the mood for relaxing than minding a camera. The visit was definitely too short, so a return is inevitable.

Happy Dogmanay!

New Years Day provided numerous options for entertainment. We missed the Loony Dook at noon, where a bunch of crazy people (many in costume) jumped into the Firth of Forth along the Leith waterfront. On our way to Edinburgh's Dogmanay, which featured sled dog races at Holyrood Park, we passed the triathlon in progress and the aftermath of the one o'clock run that began at the Edinburgh Castle and proceeded down the Royal Mile (downhill all the way!) to Holyrood Park.

Each dog in each race was introduced, followed by the mushers, before the announcer launched the race with "Hike on! Hike-ike-ike-ike-ike-ike-ike on!" Sometimes the teams came racing around the corner together in a close race. Sometimes the dogs were more interested in the crowd, or the grass, or the sky, or each other than they were interested in running. The larger teams tended to go faster, because one daydreaming dog is less of an impediment there than in a two-dog team. Huskies tend to have about the same attention span and love of running as my sweet little Irish Setter. Whether or not they choose to run with a heavy cart and person behind them is another matter. In sled dog racing, there are no whips or bullies. If the dog runs, great. Mushers can encourage their dogs, but if the dog prefers to do something else, that's how it is.


Dogmanay!


Sometimes the races were pretty close.


Sometimes the dogs had other ideas of how to race, or not race in this case.


The four dog teams moved fast if they wanted to.


The six dog exhibition run was definitely the fastest of the day.


The sunset over the ruins of St. Anthony's Chapel and Arthur's Seat was quite pretty.

Hogmanay Street Party - 31/12/2005

The official event in Edinburgh was the Royal Bank Street Party, which played host to approximately 100,000 revelers. It was ok. Our friend Bram came to visit and we enjoyed people jams, ok enough music, drunk people, fireworks and a combination of all of those on our fight/walk to get out the gates and back home. On the way out, one girl tried to kiss me and then asked if I was the girl who just did cocaine with her in the toilet. Sadly, no, I told her as we forced our way farther into the crowd. Hayseed Dixie was entertaining. Some of the other acts (the Catalan tap dancers, the Edinburgh/Catalan breakdancing showdown) were interesting. The hot chocolate was rubbish. Overall, a mixed review. I'm glad we know what it's like. I enjoyed the other events more (fire, culture, dogmanay!) and would do those again. But, I think the Street Party is off my list for next year.


Lucas made a special friend at the Street Party.