Mooned by a wallaby at Inchconnachan in Loch Lomond...

Snowboarding at Glen Coe – 9/4/2006

The first time I mentioned a potential snowboarding trip to my evil twin, she warned me to be prepared to spend a lot of time on my butt. For my Sunday trip to Glen Coe Ski Centre, her advice was dead on. I think I spent the most time on my butt and second most time on my feet hiking up the various hills in between disagreements with the tow bar lift.

Lucas was not brave enough to try snowboarding, so while he queued for ski rentals, Amy and I got our equipment ready. We waited on lift tickets to make sure he got gear, because they often run out on the weekends. Like in paddling where you dress for swimming, I dressed for sitting or lying on a snow-covered hillside for extended periods of time. My four layers beneath the rain jacket and snow trousers were probably a bit of overkill, but I had no desire to let cold end my day prematurely. Beat down exhausted, sure, but not cold. I bought a pair of ski gloves there for exactly the same reason, and got a decent price on them (£12). Yay for kid-sized hands!

Once Lucas was outfitted, we bought our tickets and headed for the first lift. The snow didn’t fully cover the mountain, but most of it was white with heather or rocks peeking out. We hopped on what would be my only chair-style lift of the day. The runs that went to the base of the hill were intermediate and advanced, so most people would take the chair lift up as well as down, especially considering the heather and rocks that we saw peeking out on the ride up. While Amy and Lucas got in their stuff before the lift, I opted for the less stylish run-off at the end. Less graceful, but no need to fall too soon.

The lift dropped us at the base of several novice runs and what would become my nemesis lift, the tow bar. Rather than fall straight out of the gate, I opted to hike up a ways and slide down. Falling would be inevitable, but at least it wasn’t going to be the first thing I did. Sure enough, I slid and then I splattered. No big deal. The bigger deal was trying to get up again. Need a good ab workout? Strap a snowboard to your feet while seated and stand up twenty or thirty times. Snowboard crunches burn!

I found my way to the bottom with a handful of splatters and some good slides, too. Then it was time to tackle the lift. Amy warned me that all snowboarders wipe out on the tow bar lift at some point, because it’s not a normal position to balance. I was comforted to see Lucas splatter on his first encounter with the tow bar. Mine was equally graceful. I think over the course of the day, I wiped out half a dozen times. After the first two unsuccessful tries, I hiked again a few bumps from the bottom and slid and splattered my way back down to the bottom. I got a little more graceful. Two more splatters. Repeat hike.

I had probably four abridged runs on the novice slope before my body requested a break. The break coincided with the requisite snowstorm of the day, so convenient timing all around. Lucas and Amy found me eventually, and we went to the café for lunch, where bad food was available in a cramped but warm room. Even though I had a long walk to get there, and both of them were able to take the lifts to get there, I beat them there. The lift was stopped. Perhaps someone other than me wiped out?

Amy pointed me to the baby beginner slope with the rope tow lift as a better place to learn, so after lunch, I headed there. I spent at least an hour there, sliding slowly down the slope and then wrestling with the rope tow to get back to the top. I figured when I could ride that lift successfully, I was ready to go back to the novice slope. While Lucas was there, it was a disaster. When Amy turned up again, it was a disaster. While my audience was away, it was barely a problem.

A beginner snowboard lesson was working on the baby slope at the same time, so I eavesdropped and learned a few new skills in the process. I learned to lean back on my back foot to speed up, turn my body to make the snowboard turn and which foot to lean which way to help the turn. All were things Amy had told me, but reminders are useful! By the time the lesson was finished, I had learned to go as fast on the slope on my own as the instructor could push the students, and I had made it up the rope tow successfully multiple times. It was time to graduate to the novice slope. First, it was time to hike.

When Lucas found me again, I was sitting on the side of the novice slope about 3/4 of the way to the top, strapping the snowboard on. He was riding the tow bar lift and said he would be down in a minute. I didn’t exactly wait for him, but I hadn’t really moved much by the time he reached me. I had managed to get the board on and stood up. That was about it. He ran the novice slope at least three times in the same amount of time that it took me to run (and trip, fall, splatter, stumble and/or throw myself at the ground) it once. I got better as I worked my way down. Near the bottom, Amy found us and I made the very familiar last three bumps easily upright, including turns, slowing and stopping. I needed a little help (thanks for the tug, Lucas) to get past one sort of uphill pitch, but otherwise it was a good run. Sore and tired, I decided to call it a day while Amy and Lucas went for one more run. My lift nemesis and I can work through our differences another time.

Zoom!

what became a very familiar position

I survived and even had enough energy for a smile.

River Teith – 8/4/2006

Sometimes indecision has benefits. Amy was looking for some sort of adventure for the weekend. Bram was away. Lucas was jonesing for a paddle but equivocating about the compatibility of schoolwork with a full weekend away. I was itching for a go at snowboarding. The decision? Responsibility be damned, let’s do both.

The path out of town was comical, but worked out eventually. Amy wanted to borrow a club boat, which meant she had to submit her membership application, which meant she had to show her NUS card, which she had forgotten at home when she arrived to pick us up. She blocked the road for us to load gear and annoyed one of our neighbors. The amount of gear in the car meant that we needed a little time and creativity to fit ourselves in properly. We drove to her house, got the card, got to the boatshed about 15 minutes late for meeting Derek. Thankfully, Derek had forgotten. He turned up a few minutes later unaware. Then we drove back to her house for the last of the forgotten gear, one last goodbye to Bram and set out without a destination.

Lack of rain meant not too many options were available, so the first adventure was to find Stirling Canoes. Amy bought a helmet there. Then we had to decide on the river. The options I came up with were the Tay and the Teith, familiar runs, as well as the Upper Orchy, a new run. Without a guaranteed shuttle, the Orchy might be tricky. Without much water, it would be bony, too. Lucas picked the familiar Teith for our paddling portion of the weekend adventure.

While we were getting breakfast and assembling the Pakboat, Amy drove her car down to the get out and hitched back up fast enough that the boat was not totally ready to be on the water. We were on the water soon enough. Lucas had put himself in the stern position out of habit, so I paddled bow and took lots of pictures. Since we were such a small group, Amy ended up the subject of many a picture. Amy told me that she likes me much better without the camera.

This trip was our first Saturday paddle on the Teith. The guidebook warned about its popularity as a fishing river and they weren’t kidding. The nice, bright and sunny day meant that at times we had more maneuvering to do to avoid the fishing lines than the rocks. Sadly, we had to miss a few fun play spots on the river because others thought those were fun fishing spots. The second half of the river was not nearly so popular, so it wasn’t too terrible to miss the early stuff. We stopped for lunch at a bend in the river where there was a dynamic eddy line for Amy to practice stern squirts. She was a little squirmish about going over until the second or third one flipped her completely. Then, no big deal. I had fun taking pictures, and got a sequence of paddle up, squirt, flip, roll and drip dry.

After lunch, we passed a few more fishermen and then had the river to ourselves. Er, almost. It was us and the sheep. Lots of sheep, including lots of cute baby sheep. Baaaa.

We had fun catching eddies and surfing, without all the fishing lines to get in the way. The Teith was running low to medium so there were plenty of little waves and not too many rocks in the way. We were able to surf across one wave in front of a big rock and then catch the eddy behind the rock.

Not too much longer, after all of the baby sheep were photographed and Amy was thoroughly sick of being photographed, we reached the last rapid and then the get out. All in all, it was a lovely day on the river. When we set out for Scotland, Lucas thought our home river would be the Tay, but lately it seems like the Teith is home base.

baaa

Amy told me she likes me better without the camera.

Like moo.

We passed the fake Harry Potter bridge on our way to Glen Coe.

Our campsite in the Highlands...

River South Esk – 2/4/2006

The lovely weather and abundance of water led to a massive unofficial club trip to the River South Esk in Angus. Chris put the word out that he wanted a trip to help Rhian get ready for the upcoming River Awe trip. Little did she know that it should have been the other way around. Niall came up with the idea of a combination South Esk - Blackwater trip for those looking for a bit longer day.

After stops at the boat shed and Tesco by the Forth road bridge, eighteen paddlers ventured north into Angus for the South Esk. Our get-in and get-out looked a lot like the Upper Isla that we did with Bram and Amy, although the grading in the guidebook suggested that this river would be a wee harder.

We divided into two groups at the get-in. Rhian’s group departed first and our group departed about 20 minutes later. The early rapids were very reminiscent of the Upper Isla. Lots of wee rocks made for a technically challenging run. Few Pakboat-sized eddies meant the rapids had to be run top to bottom before eddying out was an option. We started the run a little “off” but the continuous grade 1/2 rapids got us on our game.

Grade 1/2 stepped up to definite grade 2. Our group met up with Rhian’s group maybe a kilometer above the first grade 3 rapid. The South Esk, like the Findhorn, has a Wall of Death at one particular bend in the river. Andrea calling out to Jenny that we were indeed at the Wall of Death was the only warning we had. There were several lines available, as demonstrated by the not entirely coordinated runs of those ahead of us. The main line was sort of a right to left flush just after the official Wall that the current sends you hurtling toward. Greg’s brother went far right of the big boulder over a fairly steep drop. Greg went center and we sort of followed his line. The drop was about a meter with a nice curling wave. The Pakboat took it like a champ and Lucas cheered for his (our) first grade 3 rapid in the Pakboat in Scotland.

I was a bit disappointed to not see Rhian run the Wall of Death. Our group forged onward. Semi-continuous grade 2 rapids followed, much like pre-wall. The next challenge was the sort of broken weir. We scouted for nasty things like iron spikes while watching others’ runs. We found a nice tongue near far right and had a perfect line. In the washout that followed, a big kayak-munching hole munched Susan. Our 17 feet of canoe mostly slid over it, although we took on a fair bit of water. We bailed while Susan self-rescued with other assistance.

More grade 2 rapids followed. We enjoyed eddy hopping as much as we could. The problem with skinny rivers is the scarcity of Pakboat-sized eddies. We fit in many that I’m sure others in our group felt we wouldn’t.

A couple rapids after the broken weir, Niall and others signaled the group to catch a big eddy on the left. It was just barely above the second big rapid. Not everyone made the eddy. Turns out Greg’s brother swam. We were able to scout a good line from the bank, just right of center over another meter-ish drop. I was a bit nervous about the run, as like the Big Fluffy Puppy (Wall of Death) above it, the rapid was a bit of a flush. The problem with big fluffy puppy flushes is the tendency to kick you off line rather handily. The flush kicked us a little too right toward a very large rock. I leaned hard into my draw to correct. I don’t know if Lucas was able to pry in the back. We ran our line somewhere between 45 and 90 degrees facing left. The Pakboat landed in the pool below with a satisfying thwap, with not even a bobble. The kayakers were impressed.

A few more grade 2 rapids followed, kicking a bit of water into the boat to make up for the drier-than-it-ought-to-be grade 3 rapid. We stopped to bail. Once we (ok Lucas) had the boat empty, someone informed us very kindly that the get-out was the next big eddy on the left.

At the get-out, Lucas did his impersonation of a giant turtle carrying the Pakboat up to the car by himself. I did my impression of a pack mule, strapping the extraneous kit to my buoyancy aid for the hike out. After depositing the gear at the car, I went back to the bridge to take some photos. The river had kept me busy enough that I had only four photos between the get-in and the get-out. All were taken from the calm eddy below the second grade 3 rapid. From the bridge, I got photos of the second group approaching the get-out eddy, as well as Rhian and Chris walking out. Rhian took her first swim thanks to the same kayak-munching hole that got Susan. She got cold, and wisely decided to leave the second grade 3 for another day. Even better, Rhian knows that she is without a doubt ready for the River Awe trip at the end of the month.

As Chris was among the group heading for the Blackwater, we caught a ride back to Edinburgh with Nick and his friend. Judging by the tall tales that appeared on the listserv the next morning, I was sad that we hadn’t gone to the Blackwater at least to take pictures and watch the runs (creative, I hear) of the first big rapid. Next time. :)

The view from the get-in

Our group leaving the get-in...

Partial view of the second big rapid. According to Niall, at higher flows, it's more of a flush than something you have to pick a line through.

The rapid approaching the get-out. Guess the boater? Maybe Robin?

River Tweed – 19/3/2006

Ali from the kayak club organized a Sunday adventure to the River Tweed on what turned out to be a (mostly) beautiful day. She and Callum picked us up and we headed south. The Tweed is maybe a thirty minute drive from home, so we did not have to worry about the early morning rush to get anywhere. At the get-out in Peebles, we met up with the famous John the Blairfish, the other John and hearty wearing-shorts-in-winter Gordon. Callum took us to the get-in so we could begin Pakboat construction and not hold everyone up too much post-shuttle. I took stern for my second time ever and had to remind Lucas to stop “fixing” the boat angle for me. If I’m in the stern, we’re supposed to be slightly sideways with MY paddle on the downstream side.

After some initial ferry glides, we began the drift downstream. Around the first bend, the river pushes toward a big boulder on river right. Apparently more than one member of the EKC has taken a swim there, not just the Blairfish. Everybody stayed in their boats and upright on our trip. Occasionally during the summer, the EKC will have impromptu trips to the Tweed on weeknights since it’s so close to the city. Perhaps we will see some carnage then?

Below the carnage rock, we enjoyed more leisurely floating and paddling past more lovely scenery. Many of the hills still had a dusting of snow, giving them a short Rocky Mountain sort of look. Definite tree lines with white caps.

We stopped for lunch at the gravel bar just past Neidpath Castle, after most of us followed the water and Callum scraped his boat along his own path. After lunch, it was a short float past a park to the get-out in Peebles. Along the way, Callum found a frisbee on the bottom of the river and nearly flipped over trying to retrieve it. This after expressing a distinct desire to not practice his roll in the cold. At the get-out, some people opted to run the last wave (a weir). The rest of us took out above it and walked a few extra feet to the cars. It was a lovely day on the water and we were back home well before 5pm.

Gordon, Ali and Callum at the River Tweed get-in

Neidpath Castle

Callum and his boat have a minor disagreement.