River Spey - 4/9/2006 - 10/9/2006

In the first week of September, Lucas and I paddled the River Spey from Kingussie (pronounced kin-yoo-see) to the sea. The paddle itself took us five days. Shuttle took a day to set and a little over an hour to finish. The river was lovely. It was not as wildernessy as we had expected, but still a worthy adventure.

The original plan for a week of vacation was the cross-Scotland Caledonian Canal route that ran from the west coast across Loch Ness and ended at the Moray Firth in Inverness. After a few visits to Loch Ness, Lucas and I decided that the scenery was ok, but the route itself was more conducive to other craft. To paddle five days in Scotland, several options remained. We chose the River Spey descent. While many claimed it could be done in three days, we figured at summer levels it would be three days of epic mileage. The first eight miles are supposed to be epic scrape, so we put in at Kingussie and ran all the way to the sea at Spey Bay.

The first adventure was setting up shuttle. We hired a Ford Ka and managed to fit all of our gear happily in the boot with visibility out the rear window not compromised at all. I booked a hostel at Kingussie and dropped Lucas plus gear there before driving north to Spey Bay. Traveline helped me sort out the public transport for a trip from Spey Bay to Kingussie. I was meant to catch the bus from the visitor centre at Spey Bay into the town of Fochaber. Unfortunately, I did not reconfirm the travel details the day before we left. The bus stop moved from the visitor centre to the Spey Bay Hotel. I missed that bus. I checked the mileage, grabbed my running stuff and drove into Fochabers. Five miles back to the car would be a nice run after nearly a week of just sitting in a boat and occasionally walking. I parked at the town square in Fochaber and caught the big bus to Inverness. Once in Inverness, I caught a train to Kingussie. It was a long shuttle, but it felt slightly green to be using public transport for half of the shuttle.

After shuttle was complete, Lucas and I made dinner and went to bed early to catch an early start the next morning. The weather took a turn for the rainy – we walked to the river in not hugely light rain and assembled the Pakboat among the trees pretty much in the rain. We launched in the just barely still morning and paddled maybe a mile or so. The Pakboat handled very well in its natural habitat – it finally had a multi-day trip with gear to create the appropriate rocker in the centre of the boat. With all the rain, the dryish spot under the highway bridge looked like an inviting lunch stop. Several sheep agreed that it was a good spot, though kept their distance from us. Several canoes passed us whilst we were under the bridge. They looked to have had either an early start in the scrapey 8 miles upstream or a later start more or less where we started. They had lunch envy so our theory was 8 miles upstream.

After lunch, we continued downstream, still in the rain. Riverbank scenery changed from riverish banks to marshy bits on both sides. The marshy bits said Loch Insh was getting closer and sure enough, eventually the river widened into the loch. Despite the rain, the weather was calm enough that a paddle straight across Loch Insh looked like the best option. We saw the outdoor centre on the right bank and several lounging sailboats. Swans swam nearby.

Jack Lyle likes to say there is no such thing as a rainy day in a kayak. Apparently, there is no such thing as a rainy day for a swan or a duck either. Unfortunately, there was such a thing as a rainy day in a flatwater canoe. It was getting toward late afternoon. I was soaked and cold despite the rain coat. We started looking for camp after Loch Insh and found a spot on a gravel island just downstream from a lowish bridge. Setting up camp was first on the agenda. Second for me was a dry and therefore warm change of clothes. Tea followed, the beverage and the meal. The rain stopped more or less when we did, so I was able to stay warm and dry pretty easily.

Overnight, the water rose from all the rain. Lucas woke me early to suggest it might be a good plan to pack up sooner rather than later. Water was just outside my door of the tent, so I agreed. As we packed the canoe, a duck swam around us and our recently shrunken island.

The weather had improved somewhat. No rain, still a bit overcast. The early start gave us plenty of mileage before lunch. Occasional stretches of wilderness were broken up by pastures with cows and sheep grazing. Sometimes the livestock seemed to have canoe envy. The clouds parted as we paddled, giving us blue skies and occasional sun by lunchtime. We ended up paddling an epic day, something like 30 miles, past the towns of Aviemore and Nethy Bridge, with the Cairngorm Mountains looming in the distance. The high mileage day pretty well broke us even for mileage with the short first day. Finding camp away from civilisation was challenging. We found a smallish island with some trails that suggested use and set up camp there. Turns out the trails were used by fishermen and we had company passing through later in the evening and the next morning.

Day three gave us our first taste of whitewater. As we approached the town of Grantown-on-Spey and the road came in right beside the river, we passed under the bridge that marked the beginning of the whitewater. We messed around in the eddies above the bridge, practicing break outs and break ins, as well as the still awkward reverse ferry glide. After we were satisfied the reverse ferry glide was still elusive, we headed for the rapids, excited to see what awaited. Sure enough, we were treated to easy grade 2- waves as we paddled under the new bridge to the old. The first rapids lasted about a quarter mile. We were both very excited.

Wee rapids continued periodically as we paddled downriver. Nothing was overly challenging. The spray cover for the Pakboat was nice to keep the errant splashes off me. We found a nice spot for lunch along the river left bank. A probably fishing trail followed the river in both directions. A quick dash up the hill led to a bigger road. We continued downriver after lunch and enjoyed more wee rapids along the way. When we felt far enough away from most of the roads and access points, we started looking for camp. We found a spot in the woods on river right that put us a good river width away from a low traffic access road on river left. We saw a few vehicles, probably fishermen, but otherwise it was reasonably quiet.

Camp was a might midgy, being nestled in the woods out of the sun, so the bug nets became useful very quickly. I wandered upstream to have a look around the area and found that climbing over downed trees and trying to follow the trail were challenging with the reduced visibility of the bug net. I scared some ducks, took an interesting photo of the river framed by the trees and ambled back to camp.

Day four gave us more whitewater, including the section popular for whitewater day trips. We had fun running all of the named and unnamed rapids. The rapids that promised to be the biggest 2/2+ fun gave us the most water in the Pakboat. The wide river channelled to nearly half its width with a noticeable drop. Wave train mania. I got splashed hard and ended up with a moat in the spray cover around me. Several other rapids that followed donated some water to the boat, but none like that one. We saw rafters running that section and couldn’t help but wonder how the guides kept it interesting. For an open canoe, it was good fun. For a raft, it seemed a bit slow.

The terrain opened up a bit. The Cairngorms still surrounded us but the riverbank was less wooded along the popular whitewater section. The glorious sun made it feel somewhat warm. By lunch, a swimsuit and a thermal top were enough to be warm.

We stopped in Aberdour to resupply. I went for the fruit, including fresh berries for dessert. Lucas went for unhealthy pastry. Each of us had different longings after several days of dehydrated food. I also picked up a bottle of water. Filtered river water was getting more difficult for me to drink.

Day four ended past the guidebook’s described whitewater but the rapids did not end. We camped on a large, knobby gravel island because both of us were ready to be done and I wasn’t optimistic about finding a better spot downstream. We slept on one of the few patches of sand big enough for wee tent footprint and cooked nearby. My evening ended prematurely with a migraine, but thankfully it lasted only an hour instead of the usual one to three days.

Day five continued the glorious, sunny warmth. On the river, it felt 20oC easily. Rapids continued. Nothing was enormously challenging, but we had plenty of waves to keep us entertained. We learned that the appropriate way to overtake a fisherman (or fisherwoman) was on the inside not the outside. Even though overtaking behind the back surprised some of them, it was more polite than being in the way of their casts. Epic mileage on day four gave us a shorter distance to the end. We could end at Fochaber with just a short walk back to the car but with the gorgeous weather and gorgeous view of the sea waiting, I was keen to continue and happy to run shuttle at the end, literally.

We took lunch below the bridges at Fochaber and enjoyed the surrounding views. The terrain had levelled significantly, though even here, wee rapids continued. The Cairngorms loomed behind us. After lunch, a long arched bridge spanned the river and I didn’t remember it at all from my stop at Spey Bay the last time. It looked like an old rail bridge, but was closed to traffic. I found it again on my run and saw signs for one of the national cycle paths leading across it.

We found still more wee rapids below the bridge as we wound our way among gravel islands. The water led us through the deepest paths. A few more bends and the River Spey opened up to Spey Bay. We could see the sea just ahead of us and small whitecaps from the waves coming in.

As we paddled across to the Spey Bay visitor centre, we avoided the last of the fishermen. Sea conditions did not look ideal for puttering along the north side of the beach, so we found a wee spot to access the walking path to the visitor centre car park. The weekend made for a much more crowded car park than when I attempted to set the shuttle earlier in the week.

Lucas started on disassembly whilst I got changed to run shuttle, literally. When I left him for my run, he had just started organising gear at a spot that had a nice view of the sea. The run took me along wooded trail beside the river. For the most part, signs marked my path the entire way. I took wrong turns twice. Once gave me an opportunity to see the converted railroad bridge and the other was quickly recovered. Midway through the run, I took off my long sleeve top and just ran in vest and shorts. According to someone at the visitor centre, it was 23oC and I wanted to enjoy every ounce of it.

Naturally, the run gave me the chance to start processing the trip a bit. I am sure for both of us, it was not the wilderness trip either of us had planned. It was beautiful, but inhabited. For me it compared with the Buffalo River in Tennessee, although slightly more developed. More wee towns. Many, many more fishermen. In an open canoe, we did not encounter the same fishing/paddling rivalry as the whitewater kayakers tend to see. More cows, more sheep. Definitely more sheep. The Spey is such a valuable resource, it makes a lot of sense why it was not a total wilderness experience. The three day descent started to make more sense, too. If run in the winter or spring, with much more water, pounding the miles doesn’t feel as much like pounding.

The run took me about an hour. The car was still at the town square when I got there. I took a few minutes to stretch, bought a Lucozade from the co-op and headed back to Spey Bay to retrieve Lucas.

Once the car was loaded, we took a light meal in the café and then headed toward Nairn trying to figure out a place to stay for the night. After much faff, we ended up at a B&B in Lossiemouth for the night. The owner recommended a restaurant that we both unrecommended the next morning. Five days of canoeing and cooking beside the river, no problems. First real meal in a restaurant afterwards, food poisoning. Life is full of ironies.

Epilogue: Not long after our trip, Lucas and I decided to go our separate ways. We both decided we were looking for different things and we would be better off parting now on good terms rather than dragging out the inevitable. I wish him well.