With the summer holidays beginning and building work at home a trip up north seemed a no brainer. I lived in Cumbria for many years and the opportunity to meld Lancaster and Yorkshire was ideal.
Gateway view
It began with something of a mystery tour, heading across into Westmorland. Post boxes, signs, black horses and wriggly tin abounded.
The Black Horse junction.
We were heading to the Friends meeting house at Brigflatts, this solace of calm was both a surprise and a place to reflect and begin my wind down to summer.
The Friends meeting house.
Sedbergh beckoned next and tight roads led up onto Winder, the reward was a pint in town. Many fond memories exist, one of our first family holidays were here.
Winder
The next day my friends had a swim date where the Roeburn meets Harterbeck in Wray. We met up at the tearoom, they swam and explored wriggly tin at the George and Dragon.
We then headed across to Hornby to wander to the river mouth. Plague wells, post boxes and stiles filled the landscape.
Hornby
Wednesday was a visit out west to Morecambe and a piece of architecture I had wanted to see for years.
The Midland Hotel
I explored the viaduct on the way home, little to know I would be paddling this canal later in the summer.
The Lancaster canal atop the Lune.
This was a great break, thanks to Z who helped inspire me and was punished with Carcassonne. I did a little to help too; working my passage …
With the end date for Covid19 discussed and easing of some restrictions it is time for some refection. My thoughts focus on boxes, faces and places.
Dunnabridge darkness
In the first phase of lockdown I realised that school could take over and the screen rule my life. Teams was forced upon on us and those basic rules of teaching thrown out; without consideration, suddenly, we were filming children!
I needed balance, time away from screen; an escape Pod. My shed became a man [outdoorsman] cave. My breaks consisted of brewing up outdoors and I was lighting fires in the garden!
Deary me
The outdoors became a haven. Apps were culled, facebook thinned but groups increased in importance.
I resurrected a few older group, trees, gates and made new friends, with common interests, on Messenger. One group piqued a real interest. There was something about the red postboxes and enough engineering and recent monarchical history to drive a new interest. I joined the LBSG, learnt how to collate the relative data and now survey them too.
The interest, of course was simply a stripped-down exploration. Adventure without an event. I maximised the local boxes, explored further afield and can now spot a special at 100 yards.
Haywood, oldest on mainland Britain [Dorset]
Between lockdowns life returned. The additional of a pop up loo meant I was self contained with tent and food box. I explored pubs outside, headed to the moor and slept in friends fields.
A pseudo normality returned, not of deep adventure but of light exploration. Rules were to be upheld but subvented.
With half term included SilvaBeck entered my life and she inspired river adventures under sail and pole too; new adventures.
The Stour, a new river.
The second lockdown bought a new normality. Blended learning insisted on masked face to face alongside filmed and recorded teaching. A nightmare in planning. Set the bar low and exceed daily.
A new preoccupation blossomed. Fingerposts. I got involved in the cast signs of Somerset and Dorset [I am close to the border] and the theft of a Cornish sign led to me petitioning local dignitaries. Again, this was a momentary obsession. A means to step out, explore, eventure.
Lovely annulus
Half term in the Trinity term was a run to Lancashire and the Lakes; new friends, old friend, rediscovered faces. My grey became a badge of rediscovery; things had changed but genuine relationships are indeed face to face.
Film locations, ghyll scrambles, board games, old pubs, days in the canyon with my son; all became the new and rediscovered currency.
Nether Beck
The adventure had shifted centre stage again. The journey no longer driven by boxes and posts. Duke of Edinburgh up on the Moor, SUPping on the canal, sailing up to float down the river. Activity ruled again, and the cut back, trimmed down social media disappeared behind the curtain.
And so what of proper post lockdown? Wales and Lakes and Woodland edging are all planned. Nuttalls will re-emerge and Dartmoor Pints and pubs. SUPping the leats of the moor? Scrambling on Leather Tor and then the long promise of snow.
Solstice has come and gone but a wet one swelled the rivers, a promise of a watery wander.
Rising in the Cairngorms and flowing north east to the Moray Firth the River Spey offers five good days of continuous paddling.
Outline planning
The initial group of five dropped to four facilitating a dual car transit but the necessity for a shuttle to return boats to the get in. Tom arranged accommodation, settling on the Loch Insh centre as they could offer beach camping, car parking and a return shuttle by trailer to Kincraig. We drove up independently, after an first light start arriving early evening. Double ‘sole to sole’ roof rack stacking, left a little to be desired but it got us there and back.
Loaded the evening before
After a good first night – with the exception of locked toilets! – on the beach of Loch Insh we got up to an early start. The initial tentative boat pack went well and I focussed on two large dry bags, a food tin [aluminium], lunch cool bag and personals rucksack.
I secured mostly on tethers allowing a boat flip for emptying; I didn’t expect to swim!
Boat parked and then breakfast [tinned tomatoes] on.
Rounding the corner onto the egress from Loch Insh four Ospreys darted aloft. Mother and Father nest separately from the two youngsters but suddenly the quiet morning was alive.
The Old Bridge Inn access, river left, at Aviemore.
We wove downstream towards Aviemore picking up momentum and a familiar bank appeared below the Feshie confluence, river right. I had paddled this top leg before. Loch Insh is a great start but leads to a long first day. Oystercatchers lined the beaches, I counted 30 on one eyot.
We began counting bridges; the flow increased and two long straight sections lay ahead. The second, prior to the campsite was hard for me post injury. We were heading to Balliefurth and the lovely Ronnie and Adelaide. Their site is simple, wood, firepit, tap and toilet. Perfect.
River right, a sign sits aloft on the telegraph pole. £5.
The following day, day 2 was perfect with a still mist and clear skies.
The epitome of canoe; paddle, pole and shade.
The morning was knockout, the meander of river; the occasional grasp of the riffle. The ocean called, hoofs galloped below us and the pace quickened.
I had slept exceptionally well. Sleep restores, the days tiredness replaced with exhilaration. Levels were low and so the beaver tail dipped in and out of my boat. We stopped for lunch on a wing dyke and cooked up cans, swilled with fresh coffee.
Bridge ticking.
Chris took charge, Simon read ahead. I sat behind, grateful of the opportunity to follow.
The tents came out to dry, this was a warm day. Cag came off as we passed the cemetery in Grantown and quickly shorts and T were de rigueur.
Passing the Avon the discharge increases, the pool and riffle sequences shorten and the wave-trains tighten. We rounded a left hand bend, fishermen chatting, tents a flapping, lovely and dry. Simon was on the previous section in the guide, Chris following his experienced nose, I was following regardless …
This was the washing machine. Tom broke out but we pushed on, reliant on experience. A wetting was expected, experienced but the rush of the unplanned drop filled the soul and invigorated my spirit. The song of the paddle was shrill.
Silverbirch, a Mad River, Venture …
That evenings campsite was the most sociable. A concrete apron helped and a firebox warmed us and focussed the cooking and bug avoidance. Tales were told, Double Wood consumed and we slept well to another early rise.
Planning; Captain and Lieutenant
The twitch of dawn was filled with the in-trepidation of ‘No can do’ falls. Their reputation preceded them and so with our ‘pre-wash’ the days before we dressed accordingly. Levels were low but one particular element had been read up,the evening before.
Two large boulders divide the water twice, causing a chaos of interplay. The advice was to cut left around the first obstacle, breaking out and then break back in to turn right behind the second boulder. The channel is rejoined here.
It is a straightforward manoeuvre at low levels and good to practise without the chaos, a box of breakouts. The slalom course had been abandoned, probably as some lockdown solution. The rain started.
The view from Tom’s boat
Rain swelled the levels and our five day plan may need a double revisit. Three and a half days seem more likely.
We called into Charlestown of Aberlour for a sausage sandwich and coffee. The boats sat safely on the right bank as we wandered up the high street. My ideology was to take a perfect amount of food. I bought nothing extra, returning with two cans but fresh water helped – I carried two and a half litres daily.
Much appreciated road side stretch.
With more rain we sheltered a while in a fishing hut before chatting to a gillie who identified another river right spot used by canoe campers. Now quite wet our site was tarped up and poles and paddles utilised well for a cosy night. An otter came out to play.
A variety of dd 3×3, poncho and cammo tarp.
The mouth breathed to us gently and as we left towards Focabers it was clear we would be finished by midday. The river began to bifurcate and the huge reddened cliffs loomed beside us. The chaotic energy deposited trees and forced itself laterally to the very edges of banks. Hats strapped tight.
Chris shoots upstream to capture the deposited settlements.
Far sooner than expected the squalk of the sea was experienced. We passed the final get out plumbing for a push to the island at the mouth and collecting quartz as evidence. The spirit of the river was finished, the obligatory shot achieved and we lined back up to the egress at the Dolphin Centre.
Material from the Cairngorms and glacial retreat at the mouth.
Emy picked us up, trailer at the ready and after fettling at the centre we retired to a well-earned hotel and drink fuelled debrief.
The Loch Insh shuttle.
Findings:
The two car double boat system worked better for upturned boats
My food and kit was light and therefore advantageous at lower levels.
Bringing plenty of karabiners and ties really helped
The aluminium food box with cans and gas Trangia was quick and efficient; remember pitta bread too.
Tarps were a bonus in the wet
Substitute a waterproof personal bag for the rucksack
You can rely on a phone for a week by switching off and avoiding social media.
Interlocking boat mats made a great night time outdoor carpet
Alicemark 