Fire Group Firbush Escape - 15/9/2008 - 17/9/2008

Ricky was the grand organiser of what sounds to be the Fire group's first annual escape to the university's Outdoor Education Centre at Firbush. The weather was not scheduled to be with us.

The activity for Day 1 was an assault on Ben Lawers and Bein Glas, two Munros on the north side of Loch Tay. The mood was divided among nationalities with a certain fatalism among the natives who were far less offended by the weather conditions than those more accustomed to normal weather. Fire group leader Jose claimed to be raised in a city that was essentially a 100km diametre circle of concrete and definitely not one with nature. The majority of the group went anyway with a fair amount of protesting along the way. A few decided against the walk and instead explored the dry of the shops and cafes of nearby Killin.

It rained a lot and mist/fog limited visibility significantly. At one point, we came to a crossroads and I asked the group leaders which clouds we were aiming for. We turned toward the summit clouds on the right and continued up into the mist.

The first summit group shivered through a no visibility summit shot and retreated along the path up. The second summit group chose to continue the assault to Bein Glas. Both groups were treated to a break in the mist that allowed for some nice views before the rain continued again.

We arrived to Firbush a little ahead of dinner, which allowed some settling and exploring time. The academics all headed back to Edinburgh as Freshers week and the start of classes prevented them from more time away.

Dinner was camp food. They were utterly unprepared for me, but we made it work. The cooks had made a nice lentil soup that was safe for me, which was a lovely dinner for me. At the Firbush retreat, the plan was for each of us to give a presentation on something, preferably with appeal for everyone. We avoided presentations on the first night but worked them into the second day's schedule. Instead, an epic match of Trivial Pursuit ensued with the doctors losing quite badly. Where I failed in my role as bartender, Rory picked up the slack.

Day 2 stared with a few presentations and then a choice of activities. Most of us chose kayaking, save Pedro, Mercedes, Pauline and Freddy, who instead chose to take out a rowboat. The instructor was nice and gave a reasonable introduction in their sheltered semi-lagoon. He had Ricky and me as the designated "Its" during a game of stick in the mud which ended with Ian in the water from a misguided lean. After everyone was comfortable enough, we headed into Loch Tay proper. The group spread out pretty quickly. I hung toward the back to make sure nobody got too lost or frustrated. We heard some disgruntled cows mooing from the waters edge but took a long time to find them camouflaged in the shrubbery. Our instructor gave us the option of rafting up and playing tag running across the bows of each others boats, but a general lack of enthusiasm for falling into the cold loch shot down that idea. Instead, we paddled around the island, met up with the rowers and paddled back to Firbush centre. Our kayak adventure ended with a game of polo, which was far more tame than the version of polo I understood from Edinburgh Kayak Club experiences.

After lunch, we had a few more presentations and then another choice of activities. The rowing group headed to the pub and I wonder if they were appalled by the packed lunch choices. Again, very much camp food and not exactly quality. Another group headed back to Edinburgh because work called for some of them. Those of us remaining chose between mountain biking and windsurfing. They had enough instructors for one of each group. The kayaker from the morning went with the mountain bikers. The assistant warden guy went with the windsurfers.

We had our first windsurfing lessons on land with a mockup that was somewhat sheltered from the winds on Loch Tay. The gentle breeze on the loch translated to nothing on the mockup, so our instructor had to improvise. I took photos of everyone on the mockup just in case on the water did not compare as well. It turned out to be unnecessary. The gentle wind was very conducive to learning. Without any big gusts, we weren't blown off the boards so much. In fact, the boys were not pleased that I never fell off the board at all. They fell off plenty.

Ricky and Angus were up first and realised they were not far enough into the wind to do anything useful. Instead, not really knowing how to steer, they crashed into each other in the slowest Austin Powers and the steamroller sort of way. I think I caught the aftermath in a photo before they both dropped their sails and paddled out farther into the loch. Our instructor piloted the motored rescue boat so he could zip between us pretty quickly.

Once Ian was up on his board, I never saw him up close again. He traveled much farther down the loch than I did. Angus, Ricky and I stayed somewhat more bunched up. Thankfully no Austin Powers moments were repeated. The gentle breeze meant things like getting the sail up still took a while (displacing water) but didn't result in splats forward as there was not enough wind to knock the sails out of our hands.

I got the feel for the windsurfer eventually, figuring out a little bit about steering and remembering some basic sailing skills. Turning was an awkward and wobbly dance around the centre mast, but it got less fumbly with practice. I had a much easier time heading to my right than to my left and could occasionally regain some ground by sort of tacking. After probably an hour of very slow windsurfing, the wind kicked up. Perfect timing as we were mostly ready to take advantage of it. We started moving a bit faster and turning a bit tighter.

My back got tired and eventually that is what ended my windsurfing adventure for the day. I was able to pass my camera over to our instructor who got some pretty cool shots of everybody in the slightly stronger wind. Definite thumbs up to windsurfing. I would love to try it again in warmer water.

We ended day 2 with the remaining presentations and I think Rory was officially the bartender. Day 3 was less eventful. Everyone headed back to Edinburgh in some form or another. My car, with Pedro as tour guide, headed by way of Perth and the bridge rather than the Stirling route we took getting there. Sun threatened to peek out through the clouds, much as we expected.

The Fire group atop Ben Lawers summit. Clearly.

On the way back to the visitor centre, we had a nice view open up in the fog/mist. Holy and I dug out our cameras to capture the moment before it disappeared again.

Getting organised for a kayak trip on Loch Tay.

Angus kayaked, and Ben Lawers behind him was no more visible on Day 2 of the group's adventure.

A few people who were not so interested in kayaking took a rowboat into the loch instead.

Canoe polo at Firbush was much tamer than the descriptions I remembered of previous Edinburgh Kayak Club matches.

The kayakers

Our windsurfing lesson involved an on land windsurfer mockup. Just in case it all went bad in the loch, I got windsurfing pictures of everyone on the mockup.

Launching was less awkward than I expected. With the sail draped over the back of the board, we paddled out into the loch and then slid the daggerboard into place.

The wind was very mild, which was perfect for beginners on windsurfers. Ricky and Angus got their sails up and everything.

I think I caught this shot of Ricky with Angus in the background just after they had experienced the slowest collision ever.

When the wind kicked up, we were ready to enjoy it rather than be thrown off balance and off our boards by it. Good fun!

Angus windsurfs.

Ian windsurfs.

Ricky said it took a few tries to get this shot right.

Loch Faskally Bimble - 14/9/2008

Brian and I demoed two kayaks from Brookbank Canoes in Perth. It was a good chance for Brian to try out the Dagger Approach, a kayak that had been suggested to him by a previous instructor. We headed to Loch Faskally aka the River Tummel below the Linn of Tummel, just above Pitlochry, for a quiet paddle in the rain. Brian took to the Approach, aka the Tub (or BattleTub if I can poach Charlie's boat name), pretty much immediately. I had a Dagger GT 7.5, which I would have enjoyed more if the hip pads had been a little more girl shaped or non existent. Circulation is for sissies.

We explored the base of the Linn of Tummel and the last few hundred metres of the River Garry before heading down toward the Pitlochry end of the loch. Skeg or no skeg, I couldn't keep up with Brian. On the Garry, Brian found an old Tennents can which formed a game for the next hour or more trying to land the can on each other's boat. I had to rely on skills more than speed because Brian was far too fast in the Approach. Most useful skill? Trickery.

A bit below our get in/out, we swapped boats for about 10 minutes. I didn't like the BattleTub at all, far too big, but I could see immediately that it or it's smaller 9.0 sibling would be a great boat for Brian. The GT was a bit too snug for Brian, but he thought it would be genius to paddle it with his knees sticking out. That lasted less than 30 seconds before he was in the drink. Sadly, Brian found that inhaling while dunking into the water doesn't work as well as exhaling. I shoved the boat toward the beach while he coughed and dragged himself there. He was much happier and more comfortable back in the BattleTub.

We pottered around a little more after Brian's excursion before calling it a day. On the way back to Brookbank, we stopped at a cafe for warm drinks, food, and most importantly meringues for pudding. The conclusion of the boat demo was reached on the way back. Approach 9.0, pending a final test in the shop. When to buy it is another matter that we will figure out sooner or later.

Apprehensive Brian slides into the BattleTub, aka the Dagger Approach 10.0.

This trip was the first time I had seen the Linn of Tummel at a normal level.

Brian and the BattleTub got much farther upstream on the Garry than I could in the GT.

Brian liked the Dagger Approach. It was stable and reasonably easy to control. A bit big, but good.

I barely fit into the GT 7.5. If the hip pads allowed for a little more hip, I would have liked the boat.

Brian lasted less than 30 seconds in the GT. He may have fared better if he could actually fit his legs into it. Instead, the loch level dropped a few centimetres after Brian took his drink.

An Office Interlude...

My office's resident cat can be very much a cat sometimes.

River Tweed - Manor Bridge to Cardrona

Charlie's hastily organised two star open canoe training coincided with an easy kayak trip I organised for Brian and Scott, a friend of his from work, ahead of the end-of-festival fireworks. Torrential downpours would be considered terrible weather in most other outdoor sports. Kayaking? Not so much.

Graeme, Sheila and Hugh aka Shug rounded out the open canoeists. We the kayakers were late getting started, which made for a confusing shuttle but at least all of us made it to Manor Bridge in one piece with all of the right gear. All, except Charlie had thought to bring an umbrella to use in his canoe but didn't.

As soon as we put in below Manor Bridge, Scott demonstrated that he remembered how to wet exit from a kayak. That he did not intend such a practice bothered him a lot more than it bothered me.

We tottered along, sometimes ahead of the open canoeists but most times playing catch up. Scott got used to the kayak eventually and Brian seemed comfortable in his for a nice change over the last trip. Where I expected rapids, or more specifically, a lone wave where I can park an open canoe, we found just too much fast-moving water for anything interesting.

The normal get out for the Manor Bridge run is Peebles town centre. Especially because of the high flow, we decided to get out at Cardrona. The rapids of the day were the weir fish ladder at Peebles and fast water below. I went first and grabbed an eddy near the top of the island below to watch Scott and Brian run the rapids. I didn't need to do any fishing of my own -- Scott and Brian had clean albeit comical runs of the weir -- but I also missed some prime photos for the day.

We stopped for a soggy lunch break just past the Peebles bridge before continuing to Cardrona. Along the way, we found an old football that made for a great ongoing game of who could make whom wetter than the rain already had. It had the extra benefit of helping both Brian and Scott forget their awkwardness in kayaks.

The group reached the get-out at Cardrona far too soon. It was a bit more awkward than the Peebles get-out and required an awkward trek through tall grass, weeds and squelch, not to mention a little bit of barbed wire. The shuttle was reasonably quick and soon enough, all of us were clean, mostly dry and on our way back to Edinburgh hopeful for clear skies for the fireworks concert. The clouds parted just about perfectly for good fireworks viewing but not early enough to dry any of the lawns at Princes Street Gardens.

Though I am sure Scott wasn't planning to come out of his boat, it did reassure me that he was indeed capable of getting out of it ok. I am not sure that provided him much comfort...

A few minutes later, we were off.

The open canoes were off and provided a good challenge for those of us in the short boats to keep up.

Brian happy in a kayak was a nice change from the last river trip.

Charlie coaches.

Charlie takes a short break from coaching.

Brian weighs the options. Throw the football, splash one of us and then be vulnerable to getting splashed in return... or keep it, avoid being splashed and deal with the awkwardness of carrying it while paddling.

Football in a kayak is a much different sport. Also, it helped to distract the rookies from getting too wound up about paddling in a straight line. Or not as the case may be.

I don't know what Hugh did to get that expression on Sheila's face.

Scott "helped" Brian wriggle out of his splash top... eventually.