(Mostly Annual) Hair of the Dog Tweed Bimble 7/12/2008

Saturday night was the kayak club's annual Christmas night oot, which meant that Sunday morning(ish) was the annual(ish) hair of the dog bimble down the River Tweed. I missed last year's night oot and I don't know if there was a hair of the dog bimble. This year, we had competing trips with Tom leading a throw yourself off a hillside advanced trip. I think we lost Chris W. to that group but Robin, Charlie, Jean, Ali and I ventured out of our warm, cozy beds for the bimble. Babs was one of a few who were wavering but decided her bed was more tempting than a cold, wet river.

The original plan was for a 10am start from the boatshed, but Ali phoned Charlie to slow it down a bit. The shift to 10.30am meant I could bat my eyelashes at Brian and get him to drop me at the boatshed. He had absolutely no interest in the cold and the wet. I couldn't tell if he was laughing or shaking his head at us as he drove away.

Robin decided that he, too, wanted to paddle an open canoe, so he packed the swimming platform, the club's 9ft Dagger Prelude whose outfitting I still need to fit. Had the weather been about 10 degrees warmer, I would have been sorely temped, but that morning I had no envy of Robin whatsoever.

While Charlie and Robin ran the shuttle, Jean, Ali and I dragged the boats down to the water. We didn't have to wait too long.

Launching from below Manor Bridge, the current was swift enough that Robin wobbled a lot in the Prelude. He managed to stay upright, though, and all of us were impressed. We headed downstream pretty quickly in large part to stay warm. The random forecast generator suggested a high of 5C but we certainly weren't there yet.

Getting back into the spirit of open canoeing, I convinced Jean to help me get into whatever eddies we thought we could fit the club's Old Town into. Some efforts were more successful than others. I explained the two different bow draw strokes and suggested Jean mess around with them as she wanted. Occasionally, the wrong draw made things more interesting, but that's all part of the fun of learning.

It took us no time at all to reach the weir at Peebles, the one place where everybody expected Robin to end up in the drink. I didn't think he would. Two reasons. The first was motivation and the second was momentum. Robin hit the line just fine with not so much as a wobble until the eddies below.

We continued downstream, playing in the eddies a little bit less as the cold wore on. I could tell that Charlie was disappointed for not starting higher up, but knew the tea room waiting at the get out would make up for it. I felt a little disappointed, too, but not by much. On a warmer day, I might have appreciated more distance, but I think that may take a while to find again.

The tea room was perfectly timed. We reached the awkward getout and I could barely move my hands. Teamwork helped get the boats to the cars with reasonable speed. Charlie tried to ban us from the tea room while he and Robin ran the shuttle but that didn't even last until they left the car park. The hot bowl of soup was a perfect end to the trip. It's a shame the boats couldn't load themselves in the meantime.

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.

River Tweed - Peel to Fairnilee - 23/3/2008

With a cold, early Easter weekend at hand, what better place to be than on a river? Brian signed up for a kayak course up north, so I had the weekend to figure out for myself. I signed up to go on the EKC trip, which ended up on the familiar Peel to Fairnilee section of the Tweed. Having seen this section at both spate and trickle, I was keen to see it somewhere between the two but not so keen on the weather. The trip numbers may have been low due to the Easter holiday. The demographic split was unusual, too, but not really in a bad way! Of the 13 paddlers, 4 were men.

Charlie picked me up, then Ali, then his boat. We arrived at the boatshed to meet organiser Alan. The rest of the group trickled in. We had one first timer and a couple who would fit into the category of beginner/novice. When the sun was out, it tricked us into thinking the day might warm up. Faff factor was pretty low at the boatshed and reasonably similar at the Peel get-in. I don't know when we hit the river, but it didn't feel like lunchtime yet.

I practiced ferry gliding partly to continue getting reacquainted with a kayak but also to keep warm! When the sun was out, it didn't feel like 5 degrees. When the wind blew, it didn't feel like 5 degrees! We didn't spend a lot of time at the top practicing break-ins and break-outs -- there weren't any good teaching eddies this time around.

The rapids at Peel Bridge were a good introduction for some. I helped Alan chase Christina through them. We ended up near the front of the pack because it took a while to explain to her how and when to slow down and how and when to not slow down.

We found a few good eddies along the way to Fairnilee, but didn't linger too long in all but one. Emergency footpeg adjustment. The cold kept us from dawdling too much.

We reached Fairnilee and this time were not washed under the bridge so quickly. The plan was to take out above and inspect. At this point, I couldn't feel my hands or feet and every step was painful. I wasn't convinced that I would be getting back in the boat. Movement didn't help and Charlie couldn't get to his keys, so I found some semi-sheltered rocks and set up with a rope and camera. Initially, Ali stayed with me but then went to help people get their boats up the bank below the rapids. I wasn't convinced that I would have any luck fishing with my throw rope with my hands in their current state, but can't hurt for trying.

Fairnilee provided an exciting end to the trip, a solid grade 2 at the end of a very 1-ish section. Swims felt inevitable, though there were only two. Those two swims happened on the trickier river left line. Kudos to the newbies for going for the meat of it. It was a left to right chute with some weird water coming in from the river centre chute, so not the standard wave/hole pile to punch through. Christina followed and then led Alan through the easier centre line and had a clean run. Charlie took the centre line, too, a much drier option for an open canoe. Babs provided some of the day's entertainment. Her first run on the left line caught her by surprise. Her second run was still a little wobbly but nothing a good brace couldn't fix. Her second run also gave me my favourite picture of the day.

A couple of gusts of snow blew through at the end, both before and after everyone was off the river. My flask of tea was a welcome sight. Charlie provided more of the day's entertainment with his jetboil tea system. Fresh tea in minutes, no flask required. Charlie subscribes to the theory of All the Gear but No Idea, but so far, I can't fault his choices of gear.

Every trip to the Tweed reminds me of how pretty the Tweed Valley is.

The Fairnilee rapids got the best of Iva on her first run. Second time around, no problem.

Charlie took the open canoe line and left the cold water for the kayakers to enjoy.

Babs makes the money shot at the Fairnilee rapids.

The snow and wind assaulted us at the end, but neither with commitment.

Birthday Tweed - 2/12/2007

My birthday wish was to do something fun. Brian and I went on the EKC's Tweed beginner trip. Water and air temperatures perhaps were not very compatible with a beginner trip, but the turnout was impressive anyway.

Charlie picked us up from my place and we met everyone at the boatshed. A large turnout of beginners meant boats and gear would be at a premium. I introduced Brian to a nice, stable, tubby boat, which would hopefully help him feel less tippy then the last trip. We ran out of spray decks, so I gave him mine and I took a nylon deck. Mine would be a battle to get on the boat, but should keep him relatively dry once it was on. That was the theory anyway. The nylon deck wouldn't do that and at least I could cope with it leaking.

More beginners than experienced boaters, we stayed as one big pack but paired up with 1-2 beginners per experienced boater. Mostly, the ratio was 1:1. Upon request, Brian went with Charlie and I took someone new as my beginner for the day. The cardinal rule must be followed.

The river level was high, which made for deja vu for December beginner's trips. No one wanted a repeat of last year's Teith yard sale that nearly ended Callumless.

Break in / break out practice near the get-in had the majority of the swimmers for us. Perhaps the cold motivated everyone to stay in their boats later. Certainly, that was Brian's motivation! From what I saw, he had a good day with only one swim at that eddy.

The only real chaos came at the end when Fairnilee Bridge came up much too quickly. My attempt to spread us out made my beginner take an unfortunate dip. She walked the rest of the rapids as others chased her boat. My nylon spray deck made my run through Fairnilee much more interesting than the last time. I had half a boat full of water by the time I splashed through the first wave and absolutely no control as I splashed through the rest of them. The curvy bit from the last time that Brian flailed through was a churny, disorganised mess of waves that swamped me immediately and took all of the energy and strength I didn't have to get to the bank below the rapids. Craig was kind enough to catch me and stabilise my boat so I didn't end up in the drink in the trees. I walked downstream to help retrieve my beginner's gear and warm up a little. All was recovered, so I just held the fence gate open for them to pass.

We warmed up in the car park and ate lunch as Charlie collected his car from the top. We headed for the further warmth of home and ended the evening with a birthday meal with Tanya, Colin, Neil and Fraser at my favourite pizza place, La Favorita in Leith.

Mother of All Beginners Trips: River Tweed - St Boswells to Kelso - 7/10/2007

Announcement of a beginners trip to the Tweed brought all sorts of paddlers out of the woodwork. Lack of water and too much described the summer pretty well. I had been meaning to get out in a kayak for at least a month and others longer still. I'm not sure anyone bothered with a final count, but my guess was 45. Charlie had proposed the Tweed section that included the rapids at Mackerstoun, a longish 2+/3- (at low water) in an otherwise 1+/2- stretch of river.

Boatshed faff took less than an hour. More impressive, fearless leader David arrived on time. Fifteen beginners were outfitted at boated for the river and then all of us were minimised into vehicles for the trip to St Boswells. We were misinformed to find the car park in Newtown St Boswells, which made Callum and I, as well as our two teenage beginners among the last to arrive at St Boswells. Charlie led the caravan to the get-in. Once everyone was reasonably dressed for paddling, David divided us up into five groups for the river. The drivers ran shuttle and the rest of us socialised and eventually got into our boats and on the water.

Groups 1-5 did not necessarily run the river in that order. Groups 2 and 5 made a break for it and others followed not far behind. The intention was to spread ourselves out on the river. While we didn't quite succeed, it never felt too crowded out there.

We worked our way through each of the small rapids, making sure the beginners had a good sense of what was coming and how to run it. I never quite got comfortable in Amy's boat, but made the best of it. Dropping into anything, I submarined much more than expected. Toward the end of the day, it got funny, but during the early rapids, not so much. Our beginners did very well.

We stopped for a stretch break and lunch above Mackerstoun. I wished I had brought mine, because we spent probably the next two hours getting all five groups safely through the Mackerstoun rapids, a longish set of rapids that perhaps rates a 3- for requiring some maneouvering around rocks. The success rate for beginners was perhaps 50/50. There were some spectacular swims, including Charlie's with his open canoe. Perhaps needing assistance to turn the boat around in the eddy was a warning? His canoe ran the last drop expertly upside down and Charlie swam it well. The swimming beginners bought it in one of two places, either the sharp eddy line after the first drop or the bony entrance to the last drop. Borrowing Niall's camera, I took a lot of photos, which can be seen here. I was one of about 10 people who opted for the dry line, not really wanting to bump into any rocks at speed.

Once everyone was through safely, we set out again, sort of in our groups. I ran out of steam pretty quickly -- four hours on the water at that point -- so Niall fed me chocolate to fuel the last few kilometres.

Not that it was moving very fast earlier, but the last hour felt still and occasionally deep. The occasional gust of wind wasn't helping matters. The picturesque Kelso eventually loomed in the distance and we used the river left park as our get-out, avoiding the scrape of Kelso weir.

Sadly, Jean's car started misbehaving on the journey home. The power steering wasn't working, which made pesky things like turning very difficult. We reallocated boats and gear to reduce her hassle, got dinner at the Kelso chippie and headed for home. I crawled onto the couch beside Brian a little after 8pm beat-down exhausted. It felt good to be back in a boat.