WHITEWATER DIARY
Extracts from a 1999/2000 diary
By: Jerry Murland
First published in 'Canoeist' magazine.
August 23rd
Got back from the Alps to find the answerphone had stacked up several messages
from John Jones to say the Clywedog was running
on a good level all week. The look of disbelief on Joan's face as I shoved
my kit back in the car and headed off to Wales was classic, I would get the
flack later no doubt! Met Ian Duffy and John Jones at the Dam two hours later
to find them already kitted up and ready to go. Bryntail Falls was going
like a train and the spectators on the bridge were clearly hoping to observe
a mini disaster at least. The whirr of video cameras accompanied me down
through the righthand sweep of the run into the fall, an involuntary tail
squirt out of the stopper and I was in the eddy, grinning with pleasure.
Ian, in his open boat was attracting some fairly smart betting as the spectators
gathered in greater numbers to predict his demise, he gave a text book demonstration
of open boating and ran the drop with such style they broke into spontaneous
applause. John soon joined us and we shot off downstream to sample the delights
of Brithdir Falls and the occasional weir. Cracking run but all too short.
Went home to face the flack.
October 3rd
Washburn open this weekend, managed
to get up there in two hours from Coventry and arrived before they
turned the water on. Jones slept all the way and woke up just as
we arrived. Three runs of this fun filled Yorkshire ditch and an
involuntary backloop in the weir and it was time to go home again.
Most exciting bit of the day was falling asleep on the M6 and having
to make a quick break out on the hard shoulder to change my boxers
after a close encounter with a Polish lorry. This paddling lark
can get quite dangerous!
October 17th
Plenty of rain over Thursday and Friday had got everyone excited, the phone
was red hot on Friday night. Early on Saturday we suffered the dawn start
to meet outside Woolies in Newtown. The Twymyn was
the popular choice, with the Dulas for afters. Raining
hard when we got on the water and we were soon down at the good bits. The
gorge was high and full of enormous great boils that sucked you back over
the eddyline at each breakout. Decided breaking out was uneccesary and ran
the last bit with most of the back end of the boat at periscope depth. Interesting
paddling. Over to Corris and up the winding road to the 'get in' for the
Dulas. Shouted at by a figure in black who looked as if she had stepped out
of a fairytale, this encounter prompted a quick launch in case she turned
John into a frog or worse, and we were off downstream at a rate of knots.
River was running like a train and the breakouts were very tight, well they
said they were but I didn't see any! After the 'town section' through Corris
several interesting little drops and falls until the grade 6 section, we
all walked! Grand day but fell asleep again on the way home, this time on
the M54.
October 25th
Heavy rain all over Wales and the Midlands, headed off to run the Eden-Mawddach but
ended up on the Wnion. Put in at Esgair Gawr and made
good progress downstream, Ian Duffy ran a drainage tunnel to avoid the portage
by the roadworks! Still raining hard and the water was obviously rising fast,
by the time we had run the drop by the railway bridge it was clear the river
had notched up a grade. Every tributary we passed was pouring water into the
river and the section down to the gorge was getting frisky to say the least,
the eddies were fast disappearing under the rising mass of brown water. It
was starting to look awesome! 'Just like Nepal,' shouted John. Sod that, I
got off just by the first big drop into the gorge, Kerry Hill was also off
the river by this time. It was beginning to feel decidedly Grade 5. The gorge
would be outrageous! John by this time had dropped into an evil looking stopper
and not come out, after what seemed like hours he appeared again without his
boat, with what was a perfect shot, my throwline landed next to him, our shouts
drowned by the roar of water, but he had lost consciousness by this time. I
watched in horror as he was swept down the gorge. Ian took off after him with
the rest of us running along the bank until we were forced to climb up to the
road. Convinced we were chasing a body, we ran down to the get out to grab
it as it came past. Meanwhile John had regained consciousness and managed to
climb up a slab in the gorge where Ian found him clinging on by his fingernails.
Abseiling down, he did a James Bond style rescue and dragged him up the side
of the gorge. John ended up in hospital, his boat 10 foot up a tree and we
found a bus shelter to change in out of the rain. I went to sleep on the way
home but Kerry was driving this time.
October 27th
Another bandit raid into Yorkshire where we ran the Lune and
the Ure, Water everywhere and most rivers in flood. This
was John's first outing since the Wnion episode, two days easy paddling was
obviously what was needed to get him back in the saddle! Strangerthwaite Weir
looked fairly lethal at this level. Met a bloke as we were portaging who seemed
to think paddlers were the lowest form of life on earth. "Ignore him," John
kept repeating as we dragged boats round the pump house. "Maybe he's a
copper or something," He stood watching us until we vanished round the
next bend. "We won't see him again," Said John as we approached the Rawthey confluence. "Then
who's that standing there with a camera?" Said Tim.
October 30th
Still raining hard so off to Wales to snatch a quick paddle on the Seoint.
Met John at Eddylines, he was on the way to collect his wife from Birmingham
Airport. "So what are you doing here John? The airport is the other
way." His face flashed envy as he headed off south. The river was big
and beautiful, however the 'get in' at the Seoint is not the place to hang
around in paddling gear and we were soon ignoring the no canoeing signs and
bouncing away downstream limbo dancing under the barbed wire. Never did work
out what the fuss is about on this river, run it twice now and no-one has
thrown anything at us. The river was continuous quality Class 3 all the way
(except for the Class 4 bits) and a real classic bit of paddling. The dodgy
bit soon arrived with trees down all over the place, "What happens if
we get the line wrong?" Said Tom. "Don't get it wrong." We
chorused. Some big holes and a rescue later and we were regrouped to splash
on down to the seaside and the big castle in the carpark. The last bit was
decidedly bigger than the rest and below every drop lurked some more gnarly
holes. This really was a most excellent paddle we decided, as we puddled
our way up the steps below the castle.
January 9th
Some lean paddling lately, Tryweryn, Usk,
Yorkshire again to run the Rawthey, but nothing of any note. However its raining
again and this time off to have a blast on the Grwyne. This is a cracking little
ditch that runs into the Usk and when it gets up a head of steam is almost
alpine in character. Put in by Cwm Porth Bridge and straight into the delights
of this little gem. John had an Austrian Vet with him caller Oerter, or something
like that, she had a bit of trouble stopping in eddies and kept vanishing down
drops shouting Germanic stuff at us. The Grwyne in spate is the sort of river
where you need to get in the odd eddy now and again to avoid a good stuffing.
I never did find out what she was shouting about. We went over to the Usk afterwards
and ran it from Talybont down to Crickhowell. Oerter managed Mill Falls in
one go and like the Titanic, took a long time to stop before finally sinking.
January 16th
Red river alerts all over the place again, God must be smiling, probably reminds
him of his Noah's Ark days. The Wye and Avon have
burst their banks and so had the Usk when we drove over it at Crickhowell.
We were off to the Tarell, a little known ditch
that runs into the Usk at Brecon. Chris Sladden raves about it in his guide.
From the Old Glanrhyd Bridge we were straight into a tricky drop and whoosh
we were transported on a roller coaster ride towards the main falls on the
river. Distinct lack of eddies. Two main falls, Zimmer Falls and Island Falls,
both of these demanded some thought! The icing on the cake was the final
drop by the bridge, bad news if you got it wrong, great if you followed John
Jones down and avoided the horrible looking stopper below. Sitting in the
eddy below the fall we were admiring the dead sheep hung up in a tree when
it became apparent that one of our number was missing. Kerry Hill meanwhile
was visiting the green room in the stopper and having a fun time until we
threw him a line and pulled him out. He muttered all the way down to the
Usk about being abandoned. Usk was running huge as we joined it and red tinted
water propelled us to the 'get out'.
Jerry
Murland.