Dart FebruaryRain is a gift from God |
 
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Rain is a gift from God. Hail is evil. This we do know. Saturday morning found us
standing in a car park next to the river dart - a bunch of
crazed paddlers pulling on as many layers as possible trying to
defend themselves from this aerial onslaught. Maybe God was
angry, maybe he didn't want us to paddle. It wasn't going to
stop me
The Friday night found the usual crowd of us outside the union
loading boats with indecent haste. We then set to Dartmoor
(Devon), cruising at a top speed of 61mph. Nick was turning
pale with frustration, I was driving, and everyone else was
sleeping. Get there we did, at 1am, in time to find our way
into our 'barn'. That doesn't do it justice. In truth it was
the most luxurious floor I have ever slept on. Nick's best
mates mum owned the joint and was good enough to leave it at our
disposal for the duration of the weekend. I have never seen
such bravery as that, and we did our best to leave it in a fit
state. Well, we tried.
Saturday morning came, as it is apt to do, and we found
ourselves driving down to the middle dart (the dart loop).
Pulling over in the car park we surveyed the scene. The river
was well up, nothing crazy, but it was going to be a good run,
that was obvious. Getting the boats off the minibus roof was
followed up by some rapid changing, and then the hail. We all
know that rain is a gift from god whilst warmth is the work of
the devil, but we weren't prepared for this. Fortunately the
baptism lasted mere moments, allowing the day's real work to
begin in earnest.
" ...spluttering with indignation at my clumsiness she swam to the side...
Finally we were nearly ready, 10 or so of us sitting in an eddy
waiting to go. Enter Tim. Spurning a normal boat he decides to
use the Session (a C1), takes two strokes and snaps the paddles
clean in two - the look on his face was priceless. Our kit is
all at the end of the river, and we don't have any spare paddles
- let alone crazy one-bladed C1 paddles. Theo sportingly gives
up his own normal paddles, leaving himself a 4Km grade 3 river
in (with 30C water) to paddle down with nothing more than his
hands. Theo does that type of thing. He's Swedish. I couldn't
be bothered to wait for this comedy action, so I headed off down
the river. The water was good, the surf was great, and we were
all on fire.
Arriving at lovers leap I stopped. As is the way with rivers
you can't really see the next bit of the river before you get to
it. I didn't like the look of what was next (not being able to
see it). Searching around for what to do next an obvious course
of action presented itself. Send Rob. Sportingly our test
bunny paddled right up to the horizon line, then pulled over.
Nothing to it he said. Zun disagreed, and ended up showing off
his rolling action in the 3' wave trains.
Further down the river we found triple step. This has a nice 3'
hole at the bottom - the perfect play wave. After much amusing
surfing action (and chats with the river dudes by most people)
Theo, with the rest of his group finally caught up with us.
Rather than borrow a paddle our hero decides to go surfing
without one (having lent his to Tim 3 Km back). Two and a half
seconds later he was trying to hand roll his boat. We all
thought this was amusing (it doesn't happen all that often you
understand), and amid cries of 'make him swim' he was left alone
to fight it out. Finally he decided hand rolling was a lost
cause and took a 'technical' swim (aka the river dudes were
bullying him, and he couldn't take their pressure). Feeling
sorry for him we paddled down, leaving the river.
The 'lads' then went off to do the upper dart, while Zun and I
did the loop again. Arriving at the bottom we hit the bar.
Nick was waiting for us. Simon, Simons mate and Ruth had gone
on to do the upper dart. Worried looks all round. Ruth's a
good paddler, but she has her moments, and the upper dart is
tough, real tough (hell - I wasn't allowed to do it). Enter
Swedish Theo (Ruth's other half). He looks positively scared -
she's taken his boat. Jim breaks the tension "How many times
will she swim then"? We settle on two.
Two hours after dark, when they finally rejoin us at the 'barn'
we found out. Two swims. In truth not a bad effort, and she
probably only did the river because, as Simon's mate put it,
"your boat is the same size as my car".
After a hut chilli and much good wine (courtesy of our hosts)
was drunk everyone mellowed out a little and the evenings
activities were to begin. Whilst everyone headed down to the
local (guided by Nick), I sold out, and got some much needed
kip. People had fun, apparently.
Morning always seems to come too soon sometimes. A late
breakfast meant that we didn't get to the River Walkham until
about 12. No epics at the put-in this time left us paddling
down in good time. There's just the one drop of any note on
the Walkham. Tim told me it was no problem, I wasn't sure (he
comes from Yorkshire you know). Paddling close to have a look
at it I got too close, and started to be sucked over the drop,
backwards. Sweat broke out on my forehead and whilst fighting
down the nausea I spun the boat on a sixpence. I got the line
(just) and still out of control I headed down the river,
desperate to find an eddy. Ralph followed, and then Alexa. She
spurned my eddy, and headed off down the river to find her own.
Not convinced by this I followed. She found her eddy, and
whilst trying to get in the same one, I sort of collided with
her. The upshot of it all was that she got chatted up by the
river dudes. Sputtering with indignation at their temerity she
surfaced. After spluttering with indignation at my clumsiness
she swam to the side, and put herself back into her boat.
A few swims later (Emily and Alice couldn't resist the
temptation for a bit of flirting) we were reaching the end of
the river. Not content with the end of the river we had more
comedy action. First Simon jumped out of his boat into waist
deep water. Paula thought that a good idea, and followed. I
decided it was rude that Alexia had swum, and not me (no,
really), so I followed to make it a lucky three of us. Tim just
sat there, wetting himself.
Da' lads then went off to mission the Erme gorge before it got
dark, whilst the rest of us got changed and got cold. Finally
the 15 seat mother ship loomed into view. After picking up a
bunch of well happy paddlers from the bottom of the Erme (and a
crazy game of darts in the local pub) we headed back to London,
at 61mph. For Christmas, a turbo charger.