After the little adventure we had in the French Alps with Bristol Canoe Club back in June, I was invited to join them on a South Wales weekend to do the normal photograph showing sessions and Mickey taking etc along with the odd river. They had 2 places left in the bunkhouse, Sam and I filled them. I myself not having done much in S Wales except slaloms and Sam, well he hasn’t done much of anywhere yet….. So all new territory for the both of us.
After a 3 hour drive and a rip off breakfast in Swansea we ended up in Llandovery where we eventually found the bunkhouse, which I must say as bunkhouses go was superb but 4 mile + from the pub. Sorted the kit out and off to find the others for a late river this dull late Saturday afternoon or failing that plan B or C. B being the nearest drinking establishment and C being the pub at the get out of the Afon Ithon which I thought Bristol were doing. Oh well! As it worked out plan A happened on the way to plan C. Stupidly we missed B altogether.
A river it is then!
Half the Bristol crowd retired to the bunkhouse as they were knackered and they were given the chore of cooking for the rest of us and chilling the tinnies. A good trade off at this point. The Afon Dulas (Haford Bridge to Llanwrda) it was to be our late afternoon/evening entertainment.
A good level it was and a strange milky brown colour (Not flood colour) and I must say a very nice grade 3 run. A few nice gorges, ok river scenery. Sounds very nice don’t it. Reality being an epic paddle, sorry an assault course over and through barbed wire and as well as portaging the nasty fences. Some of them very, very new with no real point to. Tree blockages at regular intervals of which half you could limbo. Wouldn’t advise rolling them due to the amount of wire that we were coming across. The odd pipe spanning the river near one village and a piece of string about head height with no real function except to decapitate an unwary canoeist. Strangely the local people we spoke to at the get out were extremely friendly.
Myself made a bad judgement of error by dropping my boat over a fence. As I was perched in a delicate pose over the barbed wire, my boat slid off down the bank and in to the river. About a ¼ mile later after a sprint through numerous brambles I caught the boat up and it was salvaged. Boy (Sam) also had a scare as he mange to lose his paddle in a tree while being tangled in some barbed wire. A quick exit from his boat at that time with a ripped cag saved his blushes/ life of what could have been a nasty incident. Not the last thou on this weekend for him! Best say a warm up.
When we got near the end we ditched and got out through a farmer’s field due to yet another fence across the river .It was a good run in parts but a chainsaw and wire cutters, maybe even some dynamite would turn it into a classic 3.
Back to the bunkhouse for chilli and beer. To much beer later and no one to drive to the pub or back, we stayed in and watched copious amounts of ‘kayak porn’ (White water Videos to the Liberal PC brigade) and a full beer fridge to empty. A quiet night then!
Sunday fry up and the Afon Doethie to be paddled. Another epic. A 1hour vehicle shuttle from the get out to the start. Start was near source and was basically a ditch. Just paddle able. A steep grade 2 with the odd grade 3 drop, in wilderness moorland, rather similar to Dartmoor stream/rivers on top. Very nice, could do with more water thou (like Dartmoor more often than not). The odd grade 3 and a 4 gorge, a few trees in sections along with 2 grade 6 drops. No we didn’t attempt them but we did do a good inspection on them just in case. With full head and body armour could be doable thou. No more than the odd rock in the wrong place for your head at any angle. A bit of luck needed I think? And didn’t fancy getting hurt at the beginning of the season. 2 Bristolian boys however did lose their boats at the start of the first drop but were on the bank when they drifted off into the first 6. A good indicator. Portage them and off towards the finish some miles away. And along came junction pool. Nothing special, just a pool to pick up boats, gear, paddles and of course Boy. The last thing on the Doethie is a slot drop; about 7/8 feet (grade 4) maybe slightly bigger but still a slot drop into a deep, ever so deep pool eh Boy!
I went first on some blind faith from another paddler in our group scouting it. Got buried in the hole and shot out. Easy. Matt who scouted for me was not so lucky as his head ploughed into a rock. Thank god someone invented a helmet. A hand roll up, a laugh, no problem. Boy turn next! Wrong line, wrong boat angle, wrong landing. Get the picture. To cut it short, all wrong. Anyway, into the hole at the bottom he went, re-emerged upside down, slammed into the cliff, couldn’t get round to roll and bailed. Fun isn’t it. Up he pops slightly dazed but it wasn’t over yet as we saw what he couldn’t we shout at him to swim but to late for his senses to come round, he got sucked back into the hole and disappeared. Normally for a second or 2 but this was 10 + which is a long time until he re-emerged some 10ft into the pool. After that he was straight back in his boat larking around be it shook up with a strange odour and flies around him. A quick shuttle, another hour there and another back. A curry and a pint and back home. Just missed last orders thou.
Written for your enjoyment by:
Dave (Spoon)
