Wye paddling makes sense
I was supposed to be in the Scottish Hills at the beginning of the month. However, a knee injury meant I had to postpone that trip, so I was feeling a bit frustrated. I could hobble along the flat, but up and down wasn't a good idea. I little experimentation found that paddling, though, was. Up to a point at least.
Stewart had organised a group paddle on the Wye, based on the lovely Byecross Farm campsite. This is officially closed in winter these days, to give both ground and owners Tony and Sharon a rest, but they open up just enough facilities for groups if pre-booked and the ground isn't too waterlogged.
Having taken the whole week off for the Scottish walking trip, I could travel down fairly early on the Friday. By late lunchtime I was there and set up, with my tent pitched to take advantage of the view. Steadily, camp was growing around me. Never have so many tarps, tents, canoes, fireboxes/pits/stoves been used by so few actual people, than on an SOTP meet.
With several hours of daylight left, I was off for a paddle. Oddly, nobody else joined me, but I had help to hobble to the water with the canoe, and a committee to see me off.
The levels were on the low side of medium, if that makes sense, about 0.5m on the Bredwardine Gauge. This meant there was enough water not to be scrapey, but not so much that I couldn't paddle the long straight section above the campsite into the flow. I headed up towards Moccas Court and Brobury Scar, simply enjoying being on the water on a lovely afternoon.
There was plenty of birdlife about, buzzards, mallards, kites, a kingfisher and briefly, a peregrine. The only ones that let me point my camera at them were the goosanders.
Eventually, the river started going uphill properly, just below the easy rapids at Brobury scar. I'd had a good workout coming up hill, taking about 45 minutes for the couple of kilometres I'd travelled. Now I would reap the rewards for my labours, and could turn and drift. The conditions were now beautiful.
40 minutes saw me back at camp, paddling only gently.
That evening was steak night, and surprisingly almost everybody was in bed by midnight.
The weekend forecast was basically dry and windy on Saturday, and wet and windy on Sunday. After carefully weather watching/obsessing the night before, we reckoned we'd mostly have the wind behind us on the run back to the campsite from Whitney Toll Bridge. So a little boat juggling occurred, and off we went in convoy. By the time we arrived, we were in 3 convoys, each following slightly different routes...
Whitney Bridge is a great launch spot, though steep.
What makes it, is the attitude of the owners, both the previous ones and the new ones, who are very pro-paddling. Though there is a small charge for launching and parking, it is minimal and they're always cheerful and helpful. There are plans for a bit of development here, but having spent a long time chatting to the owner whilst 14 of us got on the water, I've no doubt these will only be positive.
Eventually, we were ready for the off. Amazingly, despite the length of time it took to put in, we were actually on time, on the water just after 10.30. This was good, as its a reasonably long day down to Byecross.
A few hundred metres downstream, is one of the fastest sections. An island splits the river, and the right hand channel is too shallow to paddle at these levels. The left channel sweeps downwards and round, and is prone to overhanging trees on the outside of the bend, so I led down slightly cautiously, signalling for everybody to keep right. All was fine.
Below, the river slows as we passed the Boat Inn, too early for even us to stop for a pint! We were a large, sociable group, the term flotilla seeming to suit, with a feeling of jollity and fun.
Those who know this section will have realised that there was one flaw in our "wind will be behind us" planning. The River Wye isn't straight. In fact, it meanders in huge wide loops on this part, and inevitably at times you are heading back westwards, where the wind was coming from. The first of these loops was the hardest, and we fought our way along a kilometre straight, the wind spinning and turning canoes even in the reasonable flow.
This split the group a bit, so we gathered in the shelter of the steep sandy banks, where in the spring and summer, sand martins wheel and turn, diving in and out of their holes.
Egrets, I've seen a few, but then again, too few to mention.
Once more, the river turned, and now the wind was behind us for a good long section. This remains one of my favourite sections of the Wye, for it feels remote from the villages and roads, and you only pass a few houses in the 5 hours or so it takes. Every now and then we'd gather to make sure the group would stay together.
The small sandy cliffs are a feature of this bit of the Wye, as are gentle riffles where line choice is all about finding enough water for your paddle.
One of these sections is a nice little slalom, requiring just a bit of awareness and care, to ensure you're not pushed into the banks.
It was time for first lunch. Obviously, there need to be at least a couple.
Energy levels replenished, we carried on, still enjoying the beauty of this lovely part of the world.
It was greying over a little, as forecast, so we kept moving to try and beat the rain due in the early evening. Mostly, the paddling was straightforward, but there was still the odd section where the wind would be in our faces, or blowing us sideways across the water. Inevitably, one of these coincided with a fast flow pushing you into trees in the same direction the wind was forcing you, whilst trying to avoid disrturbing a short run of friendly fishermen. As the day wore on, these short battles were leading to tired limbs and aching shoulders.
The mile down to Bredwardine was a relief, as there's a distinct downhill feel to it, despite a strong cross-wind. A small rapid at the top was the bounciest of the day, but as I was watching to make sure nobody was swept into the tree immediately below, I forgot to take pictures here. The sight of the bridge meant another important thing; second lunch.
We were only a few miles from the finish now. First though, the longest bend on any river I know. From Bredwardine to Brobury Scar, the constant left bend seems to go through way more than the hundred and eighty degrees or so it is. At least this bit is deeper in a valley, and sheltered from the wind by trees.
Brobury Scar is exactly that. A great red gash on the landscape. Somehow, the trees cling on, the biggest of them has been hanging on the edge since I first came here nearly 10 years ago. One day, it will fall.
We were now on the home run. This last bit, that I'd done the night before, seems to go on forever though. At least this time it wasn't in to a headwind all the way, though it found us at times.
At the get out, just yards from our beers, team work came into play. The campsite provide a nice "ramp", but its steep enough that we deployed my throwline to haul our varying types of canoes to the top.
For me, it was chinese chicken night, though there was a wide variety of aromas coming from the many temporary kitchens amongst the tarps. Later, we all gathered for an excellent evening, a really good gathering round the fire, topping off an excellent day.
The route on Paddle Points: http://www.paddlepoints.net/PaddlePo...PP=15019&r=937
Sunday
Sunday was wet, windy and rubbish. So we went to the pub. It was excellent, best roast lunch in ages.
Thanks all!
Stewart had organised a group paddle on the Wye, based on the lovely Byecross Farm campsite. This is officially closed in winter these days, to give both ground and owners Tony and Sharon a rest, but they open up just enough facilities for groups if pre-booked and the ground isn't too waterlogged.
Having taken the whole week off for the Scottish walking trip, I could travel down fairly early on the Friday. By late lunchtime I was there and set up, with my tent pitched to take advantage of the view. Steadily, camp was growing around me. Never have so many tarps, tents, canoes, fireboxes/pits/stoves been used by so few actual people, than on an SOTP meet.
With several hours of daylight left, I was off for a paddle. Oddly, nobody else joined me, but I had help to hobble to the water with the canoe, and a committee to see me off.
The levels were on the low side of medium, if that makes sense, about 0.5m on the Bredwardine Gauge. This meant there was enough water not to be scrapey, but not so much that I couldn't paddle the long straight section above the campsite into the flow. I headed up towards Moccas Court and Brobury Scar, simply enjoying being on the water on a lovely afternoon.
There was plenty of birdlife about, buzzards, mallards, kites, a kingfisher and briefly, a peregrine. The only ones that let me point my camera at them were the goosanders.
Eventually, the river started going uphill properly, just below the easy rapids at Brobury scar. I'd had a good workout coming up hill, taking about 45 minutes for the couple of kilometres I'd travelled. Now I would reap the rewards for my labours, and could turn and drift. The conditions were now beautiful.
40 minutes saw me back at camp, paddling only gently.
That evening was steak night, and surprisingly almost everybody was in bed by midnight.
The weekend forecast was basically dry and windy on Saturday, and wet and windy on Sunday. After carefully weather watching/obsessing the night before, we reckoned we'd mostly have the wind behind us on the run back to the campsite from Whitney Toll Bridge. So a little boat juggling occurred, and off we went in convoy. By the time we arrived, we were in 3 convoys, each following slightly different routes...
Whitney Bridge is a great launch spot, though steep.
What makes it, is the attitude of the owners, both the previous ones and the new ones, who are very pro-paddling. Though there is a small charge for launching and parking, it is minimal and they're always cheerful and helpful. There are plans for a bit of development here, but having spent a long time chatting to the owner whilst 14 of us got on the water, I've no doubt these will only be positive.
Eventually, we were ready for the off. Amazingly, despite the length of time it took to put in, we were actually on time, on the water just after 10.30. This was good, as its a reasonably long day down to Byecross.
A few hundred metres downstream, is one of the fastest sections. An island splits the river, and the right hand channel is too shallow to paddle at these levels. The left channel sweeps downwards and round, and is prone to overhanging trees on the outside of the bend, so I led down slightly cautiously, signalling for everybody to keep right. All was fine.
Below, the river slows as we passed the Boat Inn, too early for even us to stop for a pint! We were a large, sociable group, the term flotilla seeming to suit, with a feeling of jollity and fun.
Those who know this section will have realised that there was one flaw in our "wind will be behind us" planning. The River Wye isn't straight. In fact, it meanders in huge wide loops on this part, and inevitably at times you are heading back westwards, where the wind was coming from. The first of these loops was the hardest, and we fought our way along a kilometre straight, the wind spinning and turning canoes even in the reasonable flow.
This split the group a bit, so we gathered in the shelter of the steep sandy banks, where in the spring and summer, sand martins wheel and turn, diving in and out of their holes.
Egrets, I've seen a few, but then again, too few to mention.
Once more, the river turned, and now the wind was behind us for a good long section. This remains one of my favourite sections of the Wye, for it feels remote from the villages and roads, and you only pass a few houses in the 5 hours or so it takes. Every now and then we'd gather to make sure the group would stay together.
The small sandy cliffs are a feature of this bit of the Wye, as are gentle riffles where line choice is all about finding enough water for your paddle.
One of these sections is a nice little slalom, requiring just a bit of awareness and care, to ensure you're not pushed into the banks.
It was time for first lunch. Obviously, there need to be at least a couple.
Energy levels replenished, we carried on, still enjoying the beauty of this lovely part of the world.
It was greying over a little, as forecast, so we kept moving to try and beat the rain due in the early evening. Mostly, the paddling was straightforward, but there was still the odd section where the wind would be in our faces, or blowing us sideways across the water. Inevitably, one of these coincided with a fast flow pushing you into trees in the same direction the wind was forcing you, whilst trying to avoid disrturbing a short run of friendly fishermen. As the day wore on, these short battles were leading to tired limbs and aching shoulders.
The mile down to Bredwardine was a relief, as there's a distinct downhill feel to it, despite a strong cross-wind. A small rapid at the top was the bounciest of the day, but as I was watching to make sure nobody was swept into the tree immediately below, I forgot to take pictures here. The sight of the bridge meant another important thing; second lunch.
We were only a few miles from the finish now. First though, the longest bend on any river I know. From Bredwardine to Brobury Scar, the constant left bend seems to go through way more than the hundred and eighty degrees or so it is. At least this bit is deeper in a valley, and sheltered from the wind by trees.
Brobury Scar is exactly that. A great red gash on the landscape. Somehow, the trees cling on, the biggest of them has been hanging on the edge since I first came here nearly 10 years ago. One day, it will fall.
We were now on the home run. This last bit, that I'd done the night before, seems to go on forever though. At least this time it wasn't in to a headwind all the way, though it found us at times.
At the get out, just yards from our beers, team work came into play. The campsite provide a nice "ramp", but its steep enough that we deployed my throwline to haul our varying types of canoes to the top.
For me, it was chinese chicken night, though there was a wide variety of aromas coming from the many temporary kitchens amongst the tarps. Later, we all gathered for an excellent evening, a really good gathering round the fire, topping off an excellent day.
The route on Paddle Points: http://www.paddlepoints.net/PaddlePo...PP=15019&r=937
Sunday
Sunday was wet, windy and rubbish. So we went to the pub. It was excellent, best roast lunch in ages.
Thanks all!