I’m nervous. I’ve been nervous for the past mile or so. But then I think I overhear Theresa and Mat saying that we’ve just finished the Mad Mile, and I cheer saying jokily that it wasn’t so bad after all. No, corrects Mat, the Mad Mile starts around the corner. Bum.
It’s November, it’s a Friday and I’ve taken a cheeky day off work to run the Upper Dart for the first time ever. Partners in crime are Mat (one of the clubs best paddlers), Theresa (one of the clubs best mums) and Reg (one of the clubs best overly enthusiastic paddler /runner /cyclists). It’s balmy (well, above freezing), and the skies are amazingly clear and sunny. The river’s quite low, but still has enough water to make things interesting… apparently.
I’m more than a little nervous because I’ve never done the Upper Dart and people seem to get an odd look on their face when they talk about it. It’s a river with a reputation for punishing the mediocre, and unfortunately I’m a paddler with a reputation for frequenting cafes. Still, significant faffing from Jones at the get in (pre-heated gloves indeed) manages to take my mind off things and before I know it we’re bumbling down some nice and friendly grade III.
Reg adopts a strategy of bursting off into the distance occasionally shouting lines back to me and Theresa. We can’t hear him – which is probably good because I can’t get too worried about what’s coming up if I don’t know what it is. The bad thing, though, is that Theresa and I are then forced to play a game called “don’t follow ‘no lines’ Jones”.
I have a bad feeling in my stomach, a mixture of nerves, fear and that chocolate and coffee at the get in. The Mad Mile beats me up: I’m pinned a few times, back-looped a few times and fail to make any of the lines I’d wanted. But we’re being incredibly silly and having a good laugh – the river is constantly throwing something at you, but because it’s fairly low the consequences aren’t serious.
After the Mad Mile I look back up the river and only really appreciate what we’ve just run when I notice how steep and complicated the river looks from this angle. If the river wasn’t so low and forgiving, I think bits of me would still be back there.
The river apparently mellows from here, but Theresa decides to test her shiny new cag by swimming a rapid anyway, which causes Reg and Mat to blast off on kit rescue missions. I’m left at the top of the rapid feeling a bit nervous – now would not be a good time to mess up. The river god’s are smiling though, and I career down the rapid hopelessly out of control, hitting rocks at every angle you can imagine before emerging into the pool at the bottom. We rebuild Theresa and her boat (lucky Reg had that spare drain bung), and head off once more, laughing, joking and hitting more rocks.
Before I know it we’re at the get out and I’m finally able to enjoy the experience. I ached afterwards and my boat had some battle scars, but it was a fantastic laugh… and, let’s face it, it’s better than sitting at a desk!
Jon Kerswell