No sooner did Lucas find temporary work at the Fringe Festival did my phone ring with an invitation from Bram and Amy to go canoeing. The rain was spitting down outside as we talked about possible options for Saturday paddling. They were quite keen to do a double-header on the North and South Esks. The question for me was to C-1 or to kayak. I wasn’t up for the North Esk, but the South Esk is very much my style even in a borrowed boat. Within about an hour, I decided that the C-1 might be a bit too exciting, especially with others wanting to see two rivers. A second phone call sealed the deal, followed by a text message to inform me that my ride and kayak bearer Peter would pick me up at 7:45am the next morning.
First thing in the morning, Peter parked at the opposite end of the street so we literally walked past each other before realizing who the other was. Awkward laughs sorted, we headed north to meet up with Bram and Amy, and another paddler Graeme. Peter and Graeme were people Bram knew from the St Andrews Uni kayak club. A few missed connections and extra laps on roundabouts brought us to the Shell Station to meet everyone. The South Esk was first because it was closer and Graeme was on a schedule. Peter led the way to the get-out where we left Graeme’s car. This get-out gave us maybe an extra half mile from the get-out that the EKC trip used. From the looks of it, we would have an extra half mile of scrapey grade 1/2 shoals. Both Graeme and Peter said the run would be low, scrapey but passable.
Get-in faff could have been worse and then we were off. My borrowed, supposedly leaky kayak was an Eskimo something or other outfitted for someone significantly taller than me (i.e., Peter) so I had no foot supports. If my thighs held on to the thigh braces tightly, it almost didn’t matter, so I spent the first two rapids trying to get used to catching eddies like that. Awkward was a good word. Awkward but passable.
The South Esk is fairly continuous rocky grade 2. The only real flat bit was the 1/4 mile at the start before the rapids began. At higher water, rocky grade 2 was rocky and bouncy grade 2. Our run was much more technical. Peter took the lead and set a fairly brisk pace. Bram was usually in the rear, catching eddies and bonding with the C-1 that he hadn’t paddled in a while. His knee was happy to be that boat, something that hadn’t happened in quite some time.
Not far into the run, we spotted a sheep standing on a rock about 5 feet off the river right bank. Water was running completely around it as it stood looking at us, dare I say sheepishly. Graeme decided to rescue it. He got out of his boat and used it to make a bridge between the sheep rock and the river bank. The sheep had no interest. Bram came over to help and still the sheep had no interest in moving. Amy decided to help, too. The sheep didn’t care. Didn’t want to move. Finally, Bram got tired of waiting, picked the sheep up and tossed it to the right bank. Sheep rescued. We continued downriver.
The fishermen on the South Esk were quite rude even though stayed as far to the opposite bank as the water would allow and we moved quickly beyond them. One nice gentleman looked right at me then cast his line about ten feet in front of me. Another yelled at Bram, “How much do you pay to be here?” We continued downriver.
The South Esk has two grade 3 rapids among the near-continuous grade 2’s. The first is a pourover called the Wall of Death. Some ways after a small bridge spans the river, a congested grade 2 approach leads to a steepish drop that is separated into three main lines by two largish boulders. The left and center lines are the preferred routes and the right is recommended to be avoided. At such low water, the congested approach was pushing 2+/3- and the drop itself was an easy 2, about half the height compared to my first time running the river.
Our semi-continuous grade 2 scrape continued and soon we were at the broken weir. Even the best line at low water required a scrape to get across. The stopper that munched Callum and Rhian on the last trip was considerably less toothy but had a sister stopper just upstream and a little to the right. While still not feeling completely in control, I had plenty of time to miss them both by paddling in between.
The next big rapid was not much farther downstream. Like the first, we knew it would have a congested approach. I remembered what it looked like somewhat. It was a bit more gorgey than the stuff we had paddled before and it would be just past a bend to the left. Bump… scrape… bend to the left… nope, not this one… was repeated twice before we got to the proper bump scrape bend to the left. I couldn’t see much, so I got out for a look. Like the first, it was significantly smaller than on the previous trip, more of a 2+ than a 3. Three main chutes separated by two largish boulders. The river was narrower, so more water meant faster water. Approaching the boulder sideways was not recommended, but otherwise all three lines looked fine. Graeme went centre. Peter, Bram and Amy went left. I liked the centre approach better, so my decision was to decide after the nice approach. The water decided for me, centre it was. My elbow met up with the rock as I lifted my paddle blade to avoid it. Otherwise, my line was clean and I landed with a happy splat in the pool below.
In the pool below, Bram tried to teach Amy how to rock splat, but neither got very far. Bram tested his roll, and again the knee made no complaints. Bram was happy.
We bumped and scraped onward. A wee island made for a very scrapey rapid, as we lost half the water to the other side. We took the river left channel, which felt like a game of pinball. I imagine river right was quite similar.
The channels merged and I think I ran one entire rapid without hitting a rock. The next rapid looked even better, except for the downed tree that blocked the flow entirely. We had to drag the boats around. Amy decided to try to move the tree. She succeeded about halfway. Now there is a channel open river centre as the water flows around the bend. The downed tree is now mostly submerged under an overhanging tree in probably the deepest bit. Unfortunately, it is not nearly so noticeable now as when it was all the way across the river. A winter flood should send it on its way.
One more rapid sent us under the bridge at the other get-out. Half a mile of new river awaited. Just below the bridge, I found a small but very friendly surfing wave. Peter and Graeme disappeared ahead. When I finished surfing, Amy surfed. Then we continued downriver. More shoals, more scrapes. Another partially broken weir was best run on river left, but a centre line was open, too. We bumped and scraped and came to the lower bridge that marked our get-out. Peter was dragging his kayak up onto the bank as Graeme tried to figure out how to get out of his gracefully. Loudly mooing cows heralded our arrival. We all figured out our own graceful way up to the river bank. I clawed up a few tree roots while holding my kayak with my left leg. Despite the awkward exit, the short walk to the car made it well worthwhile. If my memory serves, the other get-out requires a bit of hiking to reach the most convenient car park.
Bram and I visited with the local cows while Graeme ran Amy and Peter back to the top for their cars. I could have caught a ride home with Graeme, but opted to stay on and do my 6 mile run at the North Esk while the others ran the river. I can run in Edinburgh anytime. Glen Esk offered a very nice change of scenery. Some guesswork and a short jaunt across unnamed country roads brought us through Edzell to the North Esk get-out. We dropped Peter’s car at the layby there and piled ourselves and gear into Amy’s car. Amy had taken out the back seat, so Peter and I rode a bit more like pets than people along the road to the top. I left them at the get-in at 3:15.
The get-in was just over 3 miles from the get-out, so out and back made the easiest option. I drove farther up the glen to see if there were other road options, like a convenient layby 3 miles farther up. No such luck. Then I scouted a loop option that turned out to be just a hair over 6 miles. It was ok, but the first two miles were on semi-busy, twisty turny road with no pavement. Out and back seemed much more attractive.
That faff took about 45 minutes, but finally I was on my way. The run was nice. Woods for half then open and sunny for the next half before returning along the route. Aside from a few bladder stops, being chased by a little nippy dog for a few yards and my stomach complaining about lunch, it was a pretty uneventful run.
Peter had mentioned a walking trail that ran the length of the river and the second grade four being only about a ten minute walk from the layby. Since there were no paddlers standing by the cars waiting, I decided to walk upstream to find them. It took about ten minutes before I heard the telltale whitewater roar. As I walked out along the rocks, I found Peter, Bram and Amy scouting the rapid. Well timed!
Amy and Bram decided to walk, but Peter chose to run it. I used my camera to shoot a short video of his run. It’s an easy 4 but with a bit of a consequence if you run too far right. A hungry stopper could make it interesting. Peter hit the line perfectly and celebrated his success with a triumphant yell as he floated down to the nearest eddy.
The rock was conveniently shaped but deceivingly slippery, which made Bram’s and Amy’s reentry interesting. They continued downriver and I followed the trail back to the cars. They changed out of river clothes. Bram’s trousers were soaked by the back of Amy’s car, so he got in touch with his feminine side in a pair of Amy’s jeans. Then we wandered into Edzell to end the trip with a meal. We were all quite hungry, all with good reasons.
