Mabie Revisited - 17/3/2007

A week and a half ago, Callum and I hatched a plan to go mountain biking somewhere other than Glentress. It was going to be his first Saturday off since the new year and he wanted to take full advantage. Our plan was flexible. Maybe Mabie... or Ae... or Drumlanrig... or Kirroughtree. Or anything else that struck our fancy. The night before, we decided on Mabie. Amy and Bram joined us. Callum picked me up and then we prodded Amy and Bram out their door. We were on our way to Dumfries before 10am.

We skipped the blue loop and I left my camera in the car, so what we ended up with was a much faster run of the red Phoenix Trail than my last time through. The advantages were many, most noticeably the lack of bonk and the completion of the run before the rain got heavy. The things I enjoy about Mabie are the same. More of a cross country feel to the trails, with lots of ups and downs, although I do enjoy the sweet downhill that follows the Descender Bender. It was cold and windy, especially since we had lunched at the top of the DB, enjoying the view while Amy helped Bram reattach his derailleur to his bike. Snow flurries chased us away from the view as our nice patch of sunshine got blown north and east. Initially Amy and Bram were ahead of me, but Bram sent me ahead because my brakes' Juicy Squeals made him more stressed than he needed to be. By the halfway mark, I was leading with Amy not far behind.

I railed the berms and bounced over dropoffs, occasionally knocking my feet off the pedals. I missed my spuds. One of my two compromises to my ailing hamstring was no clipless pedals. The other was to not fight (and therefore walk) up the steepest of hills. The pedal one was far more annoying and definitely inconvenient with my feet flying off pedals at random.

Downhill ended with the Burn Splash and the next big challenge was the Scorpion climb. I expected to be walking that at some point, but hoped to get farther than the last time. I was right on both accounts and ended up walking 2/3 of the hill instead of 3/4. More ups and downs followed as we wound our way through the woods and up across the pass back toward home. Some of the North Shore sections were interesting. I walked the beginning of one because the wind felt like it was going to blow me off it.

The last gnarly bit as we dropped back down to the carpark was a rocky stairsteppy thing. With on and off rain, it was quite wet and slippery. Amy wanted a shot anyway and made it about 1/3 of the way down before bailing. I will confess I wanted to try it. Still do. In the dry.

A few more twists and turns and we were back to the first junction. I led the way toward Rattle and Hum, my favourite trail. Twisty and turny, rocky and rooty, it reminds me of home and for that reason made a perfect end to fun day on the trail.

On the way out, Callum stopped by the playground. Amy and I got our run of the zip line. Then we headed for home as the rain yet again picked up.

River Whiteadder - 11/3/2007

Fifteen Edinburgh Kayak Club boaters enjoyed a tight, technical, low water run on the River Whiteadder, a grade 2/3(4) run in the south of Scotland. Most everybody paddled kayak. I dusted off my C1 after months of neglect. Robin organised the trip and Charlie posted an early objection to another Stanley run on SSPPP, setting plans for "something different" in motion more overtly. Ali, Chris and I caught a ride with Callum. Latecomers reorganising boats and Robin making a wee detour meant we were first at the get-in. According to the guidebook, anything under 0.8 on the gauge was "low". We were right at 0.8.

"Low" on the Whiteadder meant the run was very technical and not at all pushy. The river wasn't very wide at all, about the width of a road in most places. We divided up into pairs, one experienced boater with each inexperienced boater. My buddy for the day was Magnus. Neither of us really fit as experienced or inexperienced. Initially, we were last in the group, which meant for my short, stubby C1 lack of speed, I was last. Soon, Andrea wised up to how useless it was for me to be in the sweep position and she had some pairs wait for us/me to amble past.

The first few rapids were grade 1+/2- rock dodging, a good mental warm up for paying attention to the rocks and river features. Low water runs are brains over brawn, as the majority of times, the consequence of misreading the water is being beached on a rock. We had plenty of that going on.

The first feature of note was a small, river-wide ledge. I think our trip leaders were expecting something bigger than it was. It was maybe 18 inches with a couple of fairly straightforward lines. After I caught the eddy at the bottom, I took a few photos of people running it. Sometimes the reeds got in my way. Magnus asked me if I managed to get a photo of him without his tongue sticking out, apparently a skill of his.

The odd circular house on river left marked the beginning of a semi-continuous grade 2/2+/3- stretch of water. I caught an eddy near the top and watched Charlie and Dirk enter the rapids. Andrea prodded me to get going. At higher water, probably it is continuous grade 2/3-. At low water, it was eddy hopping fun. I bounced through the first wee wave train and caught an eddy with Charlie and Dirk. The eddy gave a good view of the next drop, a technical 2+/3- cauldron pourover thing. I watched Charlie and Dirk run it, as well as a few others, while I waited for enough of a gap to run it myself. My ferryglide into the current felt perfect, giving me plenty of time to turn downstream and made a few more corrections to my line. I ran the drop roughly left and relied more on balance than speed to let me land splat upright in the washout. It looked far more planned than I expected. I caught the river right eddy below and watched a few more runs before continuing downstream.

Soon enough, we were at the first of the scouting-required drops of the day. Seeing a pileup of boats in a river right eddy above a horizon line, I caught an eddy above them and waited to see who was doing what. Graeme and his daughter got out to scout, as did Russell and a few others. Robin and still others were waiting in the eddies below to catch. This rapid was a series of two drops, the first easier than the second, and the second promising to be intermediate/advanced only at this water level. Swimmers were advised to be out of the flow before the second drop. Robin had us run it one at a time. I watched a few people run it and based on their lines, decided there were probably several options to run it so I could get away with flexibility yet again.

Once enough people had run it and been cleaned up if necessary, I decided it was time to go. I broke into the current and caught the last eddy above the drop on river left for a last scout. All looked fine and my plan refined to be running centre of the chute with the slightest angle to the right. It looked very much like a shorter Jacks Rock falls, which is fitting because the whole run reminded me of Clear Creek Gorge. With a splat, I landed in the washout of my second 3-/3 rapids of the day and caught the friendly river right eddy to watch those behind me run it.

A variety of interesting lines followed. Most people didn't have any difficulty. Magnus got kicked a little too far to the right, flipped and got his boat pinned against some rocks. Rolling wasn't really possible so he swam. Russell was right there to do some fishing if necessary, but Magnus was fine and his boat stayed conveniently in the eddy. Andrea was last to go and she made it look easy.

Most people walked around the second drop. When I paddled over to the river right bank, I watched Graham boat scout and run it. About 3/4 of the way through the portage, Jiemen and Dirk helped me with my boat. I'm not sure if Jiemen realised it, but he nearly knocked me into the river trying to take my boat off my shoulder. Dirk realised it and I could see him nearly laugh. He took my boat from Jiemen and put it down among the rocks at the bottom. I set up to photograph those who chose to run the second drop. Chris was out scouting and quickly decided to give it a go. Robin and Russell weren't far behind. Andrea ran the line that had already made me decide walking was the better plan. The drop looked straightforward enough. The washout involved all sorts of pinning options both left and right of what little main current there was. She hit the drop fine, hit a few rocks before getting stuck for a second on one and then washed back into the current to finish upright and smiling sheepishly.

More grade 2 rapids followed and we stayed roughly in our pairs wandering down the river. I wasn't the only one with a camera out there. I caught one eddy interrupting Rik taking photos with a camera that looked very much like mine. He asked me if I paddled C1 so I could style down everything! I laughed and said I like challenges.

We came to another bend in the river that seemed to drop into a wee gorge with a footbridge visible overhead. Everybody got out to scout. Chris and Russell eddyhopped down and got out to scout and set up safety at river level. The majority of us scouted from the footbridge and highish river right. I didn't like the looks of it, especially after watching the hole hang on to Graham for an extra second. My boat was shorter and stubbier, and I would have less momentum going over the drop. I thought I might be due for a stuffing, so I took the high and dry line with a few others. About a third of the group walked it. The scrambling through trees, down precarious slopes and across large slippery rocks made me rethink my decision.

I got to the "best" get-in surprisingly in time to see most everybody run it. Two women, one of which had a baby and a pram with her, decided to stick around to watch the entertainment, too. Most everybody had good lines. I got photos of Magnus not sticking his tongue out, Callum not swimming (and running a great line!), Andrea demonstrating an air brace with confidence, Rik running a good line and Charlie providing the stuntboater run of the day. Everybody managed it upright. I still think that stopper might have had eyes for my boat.

The last to run it were Russell and Chris. The women who were watching from above heckled them to run something more difficult than the same line everybody else run. The women wanted to see both of them run the river left chute. The one holding the baby said if they ran it, they would impress her baby. Chris obliged. I think Russell did, too. At that point, I was trying to get down to the river level to get a more interesting shot and I missed his run.

After the gorgy bit, the river calmed down for a while, but the wind kicked up. C1ing got very, very slow and after a few wee rapids, I got left behind by all of my double-bladed companions. The wind treated me like a sail at times, blowing me fully backward. I tried to hug the banks to see if being there made any difference. It didn't. Negotiating the wee rocky rapids became all the more challenging as I had to choose my line not only by the water but also by guessing where the wind might send me. I did ok by both, but definitely added some new scratches to the bottom of my boat. During the first few of those, I had found my way to the back of the group and then left behind officially. Eventually Graham and then Callum realised they were short a boat and hung back for me to catch up. My net progress was downriver, but occasionally that meant fighting an obvious upstream current.

We caught up with the group at the last big rapids of the day, back to back grade 2s. The first of these, we arrived just after an interesting swim by Ali. After running the first, whose line is best described as pinball, we chatted with Ali for a minute above the second drop. Graham ran ahead. I noticed he ran left and got pushed right. Ali described her pin in the pinball rapid where Charlie attempted to pull her off with a rope and ended up flipping her and forcing her swim. Charlie looked a little sheepish.

I took advantage of the big friendly eddy and my tall C1ness to scout the second drop a little better. The river right side looked too shallow so the best option was to run river left. The washout looked unobstructed. The left chute looked like it had two options, either running with a slight left angle straight into a pillow or run it with a centre-to-right angle avoiding the pillow. Either way, whichever line would have some degree of push to the right. I ferried out to the chute and chose to run straight into the pillow. I knew I wouldn't hit the rock behind it. Sure enough it gave me a rebound push to the right and I bounced through the waves that followed, finally officially catching the group in the eddy below.

Graeme offered the club splits so I could paddle with two blades. Robin thought the get-out was just in view in the distance. I opted against the splits, too much faff for too little distance to go, and instead went for a head start toward the get-out. Robin turned out to be wrong, but this time, they didn't leave me behind so noticeably. About 20mins later, the get-out came in view. The river just sort of ends in a series of pipes running under a low-water bridge. I arrived last, just in time to have missed Russell attempting to run his boat through one pipe and Robin swimming through another.

As we headed for home, the rain picked up and stayed with us. The tease! It should have been doing that on Saturday!

My complete set of photos is here, temporarily.

Rik's photos are here.

Graham's helmet cam videos are here and here

One of the bigger rapids of the day was a double drop. The first drop was probably a 2+/3-, with a fairly straightforward line but with added intimidation of the second, more gnarly drop waiting about 50 metres downstream.

Andrea ran a good line. The impending bigger drop threw a few people.

Chris hit a good line on the 3+/4 rapid that many of us walked.

On the last grade 3 of the day, Callum hit the line perfectly.

Charlie embraced the rock on river right a little too closely. It didn't flip him... completely... but he needed a solid rock brace a second later to stay upright.

One of the women on the bridge heckled Chris and Russell, saying if they run the harder chute, they would impress the woman's baby.

The get-out was easy to find. The river just ended. Robin and Russell didn't let that slow them down. Russell tried to run his boat through one of the pipes and Robin swam through another.

Lasswade 10: Insults and Injuries - 4/3/2007

I don't know where to begin this one. To call the Lasswade 10 an epic only hints at how pissed off I am. I'm seething, which makes this even more difficult to write. Probably best to go with chronological order since that has the most chance of making sense.I've been nursing a sore hamstring on and off this week so the decision to run or not to run took some time to make. I woke up Sunday morning feeling ok so I decided to run. Brian was very kind and offered to drive me to the race. Little did I know, he meant it literally.

So we got to the race after they threatened to close registration, but I knew better than to expect that. Always expect the latecomers. Like me. With Brian there, all I needed to check in was have the nice lady scratch my name off the list. I didn't need to check any extra gear. I had a few minutes for warm up, then it was time to herd to the start.

The race itself was eventful. I felt good at the start, did the usual getting passed on the downhills only to pass on the uphills. I enjoyed the hills until mile 4. My hamstring started to ache intermittently.

Before the race, I made the decision to stop if it hurt. Around mile 4 when the ache started, I came up with a Plan A through Plan C of what to do with what sort of pain. Plan A was to keep running, adjusting the pace in response to the pain. Plan B was to walk as needed. Not a very good Plan B. Cold. Far. Not necessarily better for the achy leg. Plan C was to bail and take the short bus back to the finish. At mile 5, the occasional dull ache got sharp. I slowed down. The decision was agonizing, made all the worse by every runner that passed me in the coming miles. I tested the pain threshold occasionally and never could get back to my original pace. As the miles wore on, I slowed down more to keep the sharp pain away. By the time I reached the last mile, I was jogging, not racing. As the last mile approached the finish, more and more people passed me in their sprint for the finish. I jogged across the line, utterly disappointed.

Turns out that disappointment was just the beginning. I crossed the line. Guess who wasn't there. Yep. No Brian. Bastard. Then the rain started. I spent God knows how long at the finish trying to find him. Nowhere. I never saw Alan, either, so I guessed that he didn't come after all. I knew absolutely no one there. The finish area wasn't that big. I got some water from one of the tents and went to see if they had anything I could eat. They didn't. He had said he would probably go for a coffee and breakfast while I was running, so I thought maybe he was just late getting back. I stayed in the tent with my water, trying to stay warm. The tent cleared out as more people finished and more people headed home. I don't know how long I was there, looking and not finding. He had my keys, my phone, my wallet. I had just a race number. No bus fare or any other way home. The panic got to me and I left the tent to look around some more. No luck near the finish or the street nearby. It was cold and the rain was heavier, so I went back to the nearly empty tent. That's when I found the note he left for me. Bastard. I couldn't make out much of his scribble. The word wife was crystal clear though. Bastard.

No keys. No wallet. No phone. Even worse, the only phone numbers I knew were my office and home phone numbers. Useless. Even if my flatmate was home, what could she do except be there when I got there. Every thing else was on my phone. In. His. Car. Bastard. It was probably close to 4pm at that point. Sunset near 6pm wasn't all that far away. Panic again. Too angry for tears. Too frustrated for rage. Desperation became clarity. Coldly, clinically, I decided to run home. When I had to stop to walk, which was a lot, I took out his note and tried to understand more of it and stoke the rage that was fueling my run home. Slop. Absolute slop. I made out a few more words. Lord knows I had the time. Wife. Sorry. Yeah, I'll tell you what you can do with sorry. Bastard.

I made it home just after sunset. Thank God Irina was home. As soon as she opened the door, she jumped back. She told me later that she thought I was going to kill her. Literally. It wasn't the shock of seeing me sopping wet, bright red and shivering at our front door. She said the look on my face nearly made her slam the door shut again. Instead she jumped back and I stepped into the doorway to stop the door from closing on me. I went straight for the shower and then Irina made me some tea. As I told her what happened, I got out the note again. We sat on the couch, me under as many blankets as we had, and tried to decipher more of the words. Crumpled and water-stained, it actually made more sense. The word wife was unmistakeable. Something about a phone call. Definitely a sorry. Bastard. I gave Irina the note and asked the more important question. How do I get my stuff back? I was home safe, getting warmer, but still spitting mad. Bastard.

Epilogue: So all of that's a bunch of crap. It's a much better story than I ran a race, my leg started hurting way out in the middle of nowhere so I finished the race at much much less than race pace. Just like the wolves and the bike crash a few years back, why settle for the truth when imagination is much more inventive? Besides, it's all Brian's fault anyway. He's the one who asked what I would do if he did just drive home after breakfast.

River Teith with Masha - 3/3/2007

Bram's niece Masha came to visit for the weekend. Bram booked well early, weeks ahead of time, to make sure I could go paddling with them. The night before, we couldn't access the Where's the water? site so we guessed and decided to head for Angus and the upper Isla with a lazy 10am start to the day.

In the morning, after 10am, Bram, Amy and Masha came to pick me up and at the boat shed, Bram told me the revised plan was the River Teith in Callendar. He and I were still going to paddle the open canoe together. Amy and Masha looked at boats to decide which one each wanted. Once it became clear that Masha didn't want to paddle the Jackson, Amy's eyes lit up with excitement. Often evicted from it at the pool, she knew no one was there to tell her she couldn't have it for this trip.

Fitting an open canoe and two kayaks on an estate car was the next puzzle, which they solved by the time I finished locking up the remaining kayaks. The Jackson went in the boot and separated Masha and I in the back seat. The open canoe went on the top as far to the right as possible. Masha's 222 went on the left, barely, and I tied a stern line for my peace of mind. And we were off.

We dropped a bike at the get-out and headed for the get-in car park. The drive through Callendar put everyone in the mood for a tea room and the cold rain outside made us consider it slightly seriously. We unpacked anyway. WTW said the Teith was at medium volume so I guess now high and very high mean spilling into the car park to various levels of severity. The real water level was only a centimetre or two below spilling onto the footpath, which translated to high a year ago. Whatever the details, I knew it would be a good level.

I also knew that Bram would paddle way too much, so I put him in the stern. Conventional wisdom suggests I should have put him in the bow and just let him wear himself out, but I thought I would get very frustrated just dragging a rudder in the water all the time and only seeing half the river. Amy picked a small tunnel, regular keyhole skirt for Masha which meant the tunnel fit her but the keyhole didn't fit her boat very well. It was a three-person job getting her into her boat, but we managed it and set off to dodge fishermen and play in eddies.

I had a difficult time explaining to Bram the need to lean the canoe in order to get it to turn quickly, and we both did a sloppy job getting to the right place at the right time, so our early break-outs and break-ins were quite sloppy, comical at times. A break-out that beached us on a pile of rocks decided lunch stop for the day.

At lunch, the sun visited us for a few minutes. After lunch, Amy attempted to surf the wave across from lunch stop and got thrown around a bit in the wee boat. Being at the upper end of the weight range of a short, stubby kids boat has its disadvantages. She had a hard time getting out to the wave and once off, found it impossible to get back to it. The large barge that Bram and I were paddling behaved exactly the opposite. We had a nice surf there. The river right part was a nice wave hole where we could park the open canoe and surf forever. The river left part was not as friendly and we worked too hard to not really surf it. We found a swarm of fishermen along the banks of the nice place with all of the eddies so we had to hustle through instead of stopping to play. Saturday river trips have their downsides. At least no one was rude to us like our Saturday on the South Esk.

Bram and I had better luck with his offside break-outs and break-ins. When I'm in the stern of the club's open canoe and edging the boat properly for the turn, my paddle can't reach the water very well. Bram had the benefit of height, so he could reach a little. He committed to the lean which meant I could, too, and the turn was beautiful. The subsequent break-in was equally lovely after Bram and Amy gave Masha a brief tutorial on ferry gliding.

With the river at medium-high, the second half gets slightly big and bouncy. We passed the big boulders and bounced our way through several good wave trains. I enjoyed practicing my last-minute backstroke to keep the water out of the boat. I was successful about 75% of the time, not bad considering.

Bram and I tried again with his onside break-outs and had better success with edging the boat. I could hold the lean better, but slid around a bit with the lack of outfitting. Masha caught the eddy below us, lost her balance and shrieked at she swatted at the water with her hand to stay upright. She succeeded in staying upright but not in keeping the rest of us from laughing at her.

The next two rapids were the last. Bram and I ran the first one on the right to stay out of the stopper that filled up nearly all of the left hand bit. I'm surprised Amy didn't want to surf that. We regrouped in the river left eddy above the last rapid so we could explain the line to Masha. It was more a courtesy than a necessity. The basic idea was to stay left and paddle, which we were well set up to do. Bram and I went first, Masha followed us and Amy lurched along in the back. In the wee waves that followed, Bram enjoyed watching me get splashed and thrown around a little. The get-out eddy came far too quickly.

Amy had no difficulty hitching a ride into Callendar so it wasn't long before we were dressed, loaded and heading back into Callendar for that tea room that none of us had forgotten.

Mmm mmmm mmm mmmmmmm mm mmmmmmmmm mmmmmmmm translates to "I am your knight in shining armour," if the rose is not in the way.

Bram and Masha (and Amy's arm in the lower left corner) enjoy lazily spinning down river.

Amy found the wee Jackson boat a bit difficult to surf. It was slow to maneuver and, once kicked off, nearly impossible to get back to the wave. These characteristics are not much of a surprise considering she's on the high end of the weight range for a short, stubby boat designed for children!