I still felt pretty 'travel tired' this morning, but a lull in the recent wet weather spurred me out into the day. Strong winds were on the way, but the trees outside The Cottage skylights were motionless and some sunlight was streaming into the room. The combination of high water (after a day of near-constant rainfall) and flat calm conditions was what I'd been waiting for, to explore the local river by paddleboard. Within a few minutes, I was driving up the valley, to try and maximize on conditions before the winds picked up. Leaving the van, I hiked over to the river, with the board packed up in it's rucksack.
It had been worth making the snap decision to come out. The river was full and mirror-like. Ten minutes later, with board inflated and shoes off, I was creeping gentle upstream and into the morning, leaving only smooth ripples in my wake. Incredible.
The mountains seemed super-vibrant after the rain; enhanced by the morning sun.
I could barely believe my luck - this was exactly what I had envisioned. The water was crystal clear and from my stand up position, could see every rock and weed on the river bed. A few fish even jumped clear of the water ahead of me as I approached. On the mountainside above me, a team of shepherds herded the hill sheep using their dogs with a series of calls and whistles. Otherwise, I felt like the only person in the entire valley.
Eventually, the river began too shallow to paddle where a long series of riffles leads up towards the waterfall near the source of the river. I broke out of the flow into a smooth Eddie and enjoyed the view. Getting this far upstream had required a bit of effort, but not too much. Going with the flow on the return journey meant that all I had to do to get back to the start, was steer, using my paddle as a rudder while watching the world go by.
On one corner of the river, the width of the banks had taken all the energy out of the flow and the reflection was first class.
Later that day, having missed out the middle section of the river, which is the terrain of the white water kayaker, we arrived at the coast, to paddle up the small estuary and back into the river. It was a bit of a race against the clock, as the skies were clouding over and the winds increasing. Getting along the coast, which was timed to co-inside with the high tide was a battle into the ever-increasing wind. At times we were barely treading water and had to resort to kneeling, to create less resistance.
Eventually, we reached the mouth of the river, where the river turned from salty to fresh and where we could receive some shelter and stand back up. The river was flowing strong enough to have us working hard, but not at an impossible rate. We crept along and were delighted to watch a colourful Kingfisher darting along the banks.
After a kilometer we came across a weir. We could go no further. I did scout ahead on the bank, to see if a portage was worthwhile, but could see more white water ahead. We called it our high point and floated back with the current and the Kingfisher.
On reaching the sea again, we were surprised how quickly the tide had gone out. We were zooming along in the current, through flocks of seabirds and swans. This time, we had the wind behind us, so could navigate with ease, back along the coast to the Van. Luckily, the tide was not too far out to leave us stranded in the mudflats!
Both journeys made the best of the times and conditions. We felt like real explorers and what a bonus to have them both one day.
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