Yorkshire Christmas 2003

From ICCC

Trip Report

[1]

Over the Christmas break an intrepid team of thermal wearing warriors from Imperial College Canoe club ventured up to the Yorkshire Dales in search of beautiful bikini clad woman, exotic cocktails and heinously difficult whitewater paddling. Incredibly the ambitious plan almost succeeded (1 out of 3 ain't bad).

Leaving from the union on a Saturday morning, with 6 people crammed in the smallest Landrover possible, it soon became apparent that legendary off-road vehicle that it was, this beast wasn't really made for cruising up the M1. Luckily the water was up and we spied a tasty play-wave just off the motorway past Nottingham. A few zigzags later and we were on the water. Although the wave proved a little less than retentive, at least the metal seats of the Landrover weren't digging into our delicate areas anymore! A couple of hours later and we were back on our way. Arriving finally at the climbing hut we had booked, we retired to the pub to wait for Loulou and her precious cargo of the infamous Poke and 'Mini Poke', his younger brother. When they joined us, we carried on with the serious business of drinking the night away in a pub that seemingly never closed.

With Poke on the team the wake-up call arrived at 7am, and a hearty fry- up cleared our heads. With a quick jump in the cars we were down to the River Wharfe, and paddled the section from Kettlewell to Linton. The water had subsided to a rather crappy level and it was pretty damn chilly, but we still managed to persuade our resident water-baby Ruth to swim down Ghastrills Strid. Nick, Theo, Poke (both life-sized and mini versions) and I all ran the largest drop Linton Falls sweetly, although my rather over-ambitious "I might just boof that huge rock there" line nearly got me a comical working. To be honest the highlight of the day was the inspired beginning to the game of MullerRice (think pleasure, wham pain), when drifting along a flat bit I lifted the paddle to my shoulder, took aim and 'fired' at Nick. To my astonishment, especially bearing in mind we all could feel nothing below our waists at this point, Nick actually 'blew up' and toppled over into the water.

Over a few pints later in the Helwith arms, the rules of MullerRice (to accompany the existing genius of bunk-monkey and secret-sleeping - we were in a bunkhouse after all) was hammered out. Each day on the river each person gets 2 rifles and one shotgun, with the addition of 3 bazookas and one mortar over the entire week. Each weapon has a specific action with the paddle and the punishment is:

• Rifle: Clean headshot, capsize.
• Shotgun: Let go of paddle with one hand in spectacular 'my chest has been blown away' fashion and capsize.
• Bazooka: Throw away your paddles as far as possible and capsize.
• Mortar: Pop deck, blades thrown into next county, capsize vaporized.

We had another early start on Monday morning and staggered out to the cars and off to the River Sprint. Although we had a little trouble finding the put in, finally an SAS stylee through the forest moment gave us the start we needed, and we paddled down from S-Bends to Scrogg weir on the river Kent. It was a quality paddle only slightly marred by the never-ending whining from Poke 'Boys, I really need a dump!". We were joined at the weir by Ruth, and with Tim having finally relived himself we pushed on down the river Kent. A couple of swims from ruth started us off, with technical swim from myself while getting into my boat after a portage round a rather sticky weir provided the light entertainment. It was a great grade 3/4 run ending in a 12ft fall which we all ran blind (showing an incedible amount of trust of Poke's advice). Great end to a long day!

Tuesday saw us up to the River Lune joined by Poke Daddy and Kev from the darkest regions of Doncaster. After a little 'Gerr orf moy laaaand" farmer incident (he actually proved a decent bloke in the end) everyone apart from myself (mercilessly ribbed and sobbing over a pulled shoulder muscle) got on the water. Loulou managed 3 swims, with the excuse for the first swim "I needed a wee" and the second "I forgot to wee the first time", and even Poke Daddy and Kev swam at the Strid. Comical to watch. With this being mini-Poke's last day on the river, he launched a devastating mortar attack on Nick and then got out before a counter attack could be mustered. Cheek! Tim and nick, unhappy with just one river in a day went for a quick bandit run of the Kent again before dark. Nick managed a swim in the gorge section but apparently self-rescued himself with some style.

That evening was New Year's eve and with a pub that never closed, and two pots of exotic punch it proved a good one. Details are for girlies, but my advice in future is don't mistake middle-aged locals in the pub for beautiful bikini clad women, never play Circle of Death with only three people, don't try to play the flute using an enormous pot, and definitely never play truth or drink when you're in such a merry mood. Plus, of course, if you're planning to paddle the next day, go to bed before 7am.

We eventually dragged ourselves out of bed at about 1pm on New Year's day, and very slowly, accompanied by much comical toppling over, got in to our paddling kit in the hut. We walked the 100m from the hut to our local river, the Ribble. We portaged everything we got out to have a look at and floated down the rest with our hands in the air so they wouldn't get wet. We woz well cold. In our hung-over state earlier that day, we forgot to sort out with Loulou where the take-out was, but we got lucky and found her without too much hassle. Emily arrived that evening and commented that we looked tres subdued and was most disappointed that we couldn't really face the pub.

[2]

With an abnormally early and quiet evening the day before, Thursday saw us break all records in wake-up call, with us eating a hearty cooked brekkie at 6.45am. A mother of a drive later and all but Emily changed to take a quick dip in the river Tees from Bernard castle to Winston Bridge. Unfortunately Loulou realized at the get-in that after padding out her new boat the night before, she wouldn't actually be able to escape from it if she fell in, so the numbers were reduced to five as she trekked back to the car. With the river absolutely tonking, Abbey Rapids had a fairly straightforward line straight through a huge 6ft high breaking wave at the bottom. The 13km of river passed incredibly quickly, with some huge river wide stoppers making excellent playspots if you were ready for them, and a swim or two, as proved by Ruth, if you weren't. It was hard work, and still suffering from New Year's Nick had to carry the last km as he'd completely run out of energy. Considering just 13km of whitewater too pussy for 1 day, Poke, Theo and I went for a blast down the upper Tees from high Force to Low Force. Walking down the the put-in we heard some ominous shots ringing out and wondered if there was an angry farmer and some more paddlers up ahead, but in the end it proved a beauty of a paddle. Low Force was the highlight; A nasty 6 foot drop, immediately followed by a 12 foot plunge into a large pool. We shot this one individually to ensure a bit of safety cover was provided but fortunately it wasn't required as we all found different lines without incident. On the long drive back to the hut in the ice however, Loulou did have a minor driving incident. No injuries, but there may be a new rapid in the river under the bridge she hit :o).

On both Friday and Saturday we started off with good intentions with the Rawthey and Upper Swale (6 waterfalls over 6m high! Huuruhhh) planned for paddling. However dropping water levels and increasing amounts of snow cover persuaded us that snow-boating was a much better way to fill the time. Road-surfing was born on the Friday (ingredients needed: Landrover, icy road, length of rope, kayak, and one wide eyed drooling volunteer). We did actually get Emily on the water for a quick poddle down the lower Lune in the afternoon as well. On the Saturday the more traditional method of snowboating was employed by finding the steepest snow-covered slope possible. At the top of a high mountain pass we stopped and took off the boats (much to the bewilderment of passing motorists!). Unsatisfied with simply sliding down the hill we fashioned a ramp out of Poke's Inazone and proceeded to get some spectacular air and incredible wipe-outs.

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It was a quality end to a quality week, with us heading home via Poke Mummy's for lunch the next day. Thanks must go to Nick for the use of his Landrover, and Loulou for her (damaged) car, Ruth and Theo for monetary calculations, and Tim for invaluable local knowledge.