Waking early to Week Two at dawn, the seven seater and The Olds left to my tired goodbyes. Spirits immediately picked up however, when Squirrel, Liam, Haywood, Fred, Kim, Earnshaw, Dave and I celebrated having no life commitments and having another week in Europe. YES!
We packed and set off for Austria/Germany/Italy/The Dart. Levels being right off everywhere in Europe, except Devon, meant we weren't quite sure where we were headed, but we headed anyway while Liam and Fred made Haywood's radio more French Friendly, changing all 15 stations to 'NRG France', the only station with decent English music.
Our car arrived full (despite the many threats in Fred and Liams direction) in Landeck, Austria, after a few stops in Italy and Switzerland, to a much smaller campsite, and waited around for the faff-van who it turned out had stopped at IKEA for meatballs- really getting knee deep into the European culture.
YAY AUSTRIA!
Sunday 24th, Sanna, Inn Shoot, Landeck Gorge, Imst Gorge, Phew!
Camping Riffler is perfectly located on an island of sorts, where the Sanna and Inn rivers join right outside the campsite gates. We made up for the previous day's lack of paddling by completeing four river- the only faffless day I've witnessed in two years of being part of LUCC!
The Sanna was up first. Acting photo-bunny on the bank by Pianz section, it was easy to doubt it's difficulty, until people and kayaks disappeared behind waves, re-emerging moments later just to plummet back into the next. Much bigger volume in comparison to France's technical rivers. Although much of the river continued in the same way, there were no issues and everyone continued down.
Fred, Earnshaw and Kim run Pianz
Getting off outside the camp gates, everyone piled into cars for the next two rivers. Squirrel and Robin, who had joined us at the campsite the night previous, bombed down the Inn Shoot, a Grade V, and everyone else joined them at the bottom. Later, Robin admitted he was disappointed that Squirrel had paddled so well. Truthfully, we all were, seeing that the swim chart was looking a bit meagre at the time.
The others got on for the Landeck Gorge while I waited where the gorge narrowed, producing some meaty waves. I'd been shown the spot by a jolly, Austrian lady and a man with no tongue, so eagerly began prepping my camera for the arrival of the club. I was in no rush, having been promised at least an hour before the arrived at the gorge, so it was a shock to hear a THOMMP and turn around to see everyone paddling past, without a lens on my camera.
Fortunately, there were no swims so wasn't worth the footage anyway :)
A photo of Kim and Dave instead to make up for the lack of Landeck footage
On the Landeck, Liam admitted not wanted to follow Robin's line as he "wasn't sure what his intentions were". Apparently, when you're as good a paddler as Robin, you make lines into the biggest holes, because you can. Problematic, as Liam could not.
Liam receives an escort incase he wusses out further
Despite being told not to expect much paddling that week, I was invited on the Imst Gorge- a long, wide section with a few wave trains. Nothing to worry about, they said. It didn't look too bad until you had fallen into the trough of a wave and anyone ahead or behind were hidden by walls of water. Liam, eager to show off, kick flipped off the first wave. Forgetting he wasn't a playboater for a moment, he instantly binned himself and couldn't roll up until the wave train had finished. Squirrel meanwhile, cartwheeled his way through the waves, taunting us mortals. Further downstream, I caught my first glimpse of the must-avoid stopped in Austria- absolutely massive holes. And this was from the other side of the river, about as far away from them as I could paddle. Huge. Despite the week long goading, no one played the massive-hole game that day.
The Memminger Stopper just wants to play :'(
Monday 25th, Rosanna and Trisanna
At the Rosanna the next day, Fred and Dave decided to set off walking to scout the Upper instead while the rest of us were forced to get on the river one kayak at a time without sign of an eddy in sight. It turns out the two of them didn't even get to the bottom of the Upper... Something about being lazy sods :) Continuous rapids the whole river left not much opportunity to avoid holes or grab eddies- not that Stu "What's an Eddy" Haywood would have stopped in them anyway! I rediscovered the curse of staying upright on flat water and rolled when trying to break out of the eddy I'd followed Squirrel into. Everyone eased down the rest of it, but at the weir Kim and Earnie got off, leaving Squirrel, Haywood, Liam and I to complete the remaining flatter section. Getting off below a motorway overpass, we ate lunch (Alps lunches are the best on the world, by the way), before being picked up and taken to the Trisanna.
A fair bit of faff passed while people mmm'ed and ahhh'ed about getting on the Trisanna, but eventually Liam, Haywood and Squirrel got on. Earnshaw, Kim and Dave got into the van, and shuttled down to the first named rapid, the Sawmill Cataract. After I detached myself from the boats that I definitely had not been hiding between in the back, we pondered over it for a while before moving onto the last rapid when we decided the Cataract would prove no difficulty. We tried to find the line while the water was high. After a few River Right - to Left- to Right must make moves, it was decided it was worth portaging so we ran upstream to find an eddy for everyone to come into. As it was Europe after all, there were none, so we planted ourselves by a rocky bank to grab boats any means necessary.
Eventually we hit the cut-off time for legal paddling without sign of the three, and became worried. Dave was sent off while we played rock-bouls, who eventually returned with everyone. Unsure of where the final rapid was, and wisely knowing they wouldn't be able to eddy out, they had gotten out early. A final scout of the rapid put no ease in our minds, so we hastily retreated before temptation overcame someone.
What could possible be the essence of the relationships within LUCC came to light when the river was discussed later. The rule of thumb that you should paddle with friends you know and trust was put to the test. And resulted in Liam, stuck in a hole, being used as a boofing platform and left to get himself out. This must be true friendship!
View from a watery hole
Tuesday 26th, Schuls Gorge, S-Chanf Gorge
The drive to Switzerland the next day became a topic of conversation before we’d even made it out of Landeck when the van was pulled over by the police. Ten minutes and one fine later the
journey continued at a slower speed, and LUCC sloped across the border to
Switzerland with tails between our legs. As if luck was on our
side, everybody managed to cross the border without being tasered. Well done
everyone.
At the get on, Schuls Gorge
gave up none of it's secrets, as it curved around a sharp U-bend, with
nothing but white rapids in sight. Big waves continued the majority of the
river, but caused no issue. Although Fred also got on the river, only Liam and
Haywood made it to the picturesque get-out, at the bottom of a cliff with a
church overlooked by the Swiss mountains. A better idea of what the rivers were
like will come in the Alps video that will eventually get made……. Come on,
guys!
Haywood on Schuls
S-Chanf's get on involved a llama, crossing a motorway and grass kayaking. Definitely one of the most beautiful spots
I’ve kayaked in. Huge boulders create paths through the otherwise slower parts
of the river, forcing you to weave a trail between them. Despite a duller day,
the water gleamed turquoise, and everyone’s spirits were in good form after
spotting the world’s single tolerant fisherman. Liam and Fred took the time to
explore the natural caves, but seeing as I nearly binned myself off one of the
boulders I thought it was a good idea not to join them. The river stayed at a relaxed grade other than one nasty portage, and the get out arrived too soon, a short hundred metres upstream from where
the IV+ gorge starts. Just to wind everyone up, I binned myself just above the
get out, almost rolling up past it, beyond the reach of the eddy. In response,
Squirrel and Haywood tossed me into the water fountain. And then also in the
one further up the hill.
Fred and Haywood find a quicker means to the get on
Wednesday 27th, Area 47
Honestly, like many of the evening
activities (there was definitely a gay bar somewhere during the week..), I cannot
remember what was done that morning. Evidently it was a slow day however as by
the afternoon any paddling plans were packed in, in favor of taking time off
to visit Area 47, the local water park. I decided to have some much needed
tanning time at the campsite having expected nothing special, which quickly
escalated into being the worst decision of the trip.
Area 47
follows the very lax health
and safety rules that Austria apparently doesn’t enforce anyway. Some of the
park’s slides are so inappropriate that females are banned from them. We still
don’t know why. Slacklines, parachute jumps, free falls…. Unfortunately however,
Squirrel somehow managed to cut his foot open on one of the slides. Although he
can ease his way down a Grade V, a family water park proved too much for him. A
quick trip to hospital resulted in Squirrel being returned in one piece, albeit
very bandaged up. And a flooded village but that’s another matter.
At some point that evening Squirrel, Haywood, Fred and Liam all
disappeared in search of gas and never came back. We expected the worst, and
went to bed. Although they swear they mentioned it, none of the rest of us remembers
being told they were going to the pub, so when they finally arrived back to
camp, the state of them was a surprise. Liam and Fred, having plenty of hormones built up after a
week and a half of camping with each other, came back with the announcement
they’d pulled. Haywood stumbled in behind and Squirrel went to bed quick
enough, knowing something that we didn’t. Sure enough, after a while their names
were called from the next door’s garden and as only three drunk English can do
it, they proceeded to run headfirst through the bush to the next door’s garden.
Eventually everyone made it back through the hedge to their corresponding beds.
Unsurprisingly alone.
Thursday 28th, Pfunds Section, Giarsun Gorge
A slow morning left plenty of
time to examine the last night’s damage through the rather large hole in the
hedge. The only way to have possibly made matters worse would have involved
signing the carnage, and leaving a thank you note. The vegetable patch now
resembled a construction site, and the garden shed’s door was folded in half
where, fearing they had been locked in, it had been kicked in only to find it
was unlocked the whole time. When the parents came out to find the source of
the noise, they hid. Fred and Liam ran; Haywood lay down in the middle of the
driveway. No morning beers were had before we were off to the river; the full
beer box having been used to ensure sleeping bags weren’t vomited over in the
middle of the night. A truly remarkable display of why you should never stop
drinking for a year.
Luckily, the absurdity of the whole situation meant the two girls
next door could blame the whole thing on a rampant ‘large cat’, despite the
hole in the hedge leading straight into our campsite, where we all were camped,
peering back at the garden in wonder.
A large cat, meow
The second last day of the trip, every man and his hangover
piled on to the Pfunds section for an easy warm up. The sun was beating down,
not doing much for the headaches from last night. By the time the get off
arrived, the hungover ones were lagging behind and Dave, Kim and Earnie were
already waiting on the bank to rejoin for the Giarsun Gorge.
Nobody with a hangover in sight
Groups were split up, Haywood,
Liam, Fred and I in one, and Earnshaw, Kim and Squirrel in the other. Our group
led on first, doing the easier grade III section leading to the last chance to
get off. A failed roll had Fred making his way for it, with the thought of
losing a set of paddles last year on his mind.
It was at this point that
rolling seemed like a good way to get down a river. Rolling through holes,
rolling over rocks, bracing with my face, and rolling into eddies. By the time
the first eddy came up, I was considering scaling cliffs to get out, but due to
shear cliffs on each side I was forced to carry on. Haywood and Liam made
perfect lines all the way down the left, while I failed ferry glides and
skimmed around rocks running river right where there was no river, pretty much
portaging everything without actually getting out of my boat.
So it wasn't with much surprise that I discovered myself in the river.
Upon regrouping with Haywood and
Liam, and sending them in search of kit, I began a mega-walk out, in one of the
most scenic areas I’ve ever had the pleasure to walk out off in a drysuit in
blistering heat. Following the sound of cow bells, I eventually found a road
and a quick hitch to the get off, I watched the paddlers following my boat down
from the top of a cliff- a seemingly decent rescue until Liam and Earnshaw got
stuck in the river-wide hole. Liam because he did, and Excuses-Earnshaw,
because he “missed his boof”.
Two Americans that LUCC had
fooled into helping them continued on down the river, while the rest of us were
called to the scene of the pinned boat, completely submerged having fulfilled it’s
dream of riding out a grade VI. LUCC ran to the rescue in our flip-flops and
BAs. Once recovered, it was completely flat. The paddles are currently fueling
Switzerland in the hydro-plant turbines, I think. Along with the GT and my
paddles, Fred broke his second set of the trip, broken from when he accidently
fell on them, walking out of the river… Not sure what to say about that one. Good
thing we all have insurance though! :)
Dagger 2013 squirt boat prototype
Can't get enough of being a hero, after he unpins the GT
Despite the carnage, it seemed like a really fun river, and I look forward to swimming it again next year!
Friday 29th, Sanna and Landeck again
The final day of paddling was back to the old favourites.
Liam’s boat was by now making a fair attempt of an impression of a sponge so he
was using a borrowed Nomad, and Haywood had switched down from his Jefe to his
Molan. This time, all the rest of us made it to the Pianz section to watch the
carnage, but despite rivers having risen, Haywood, Liam and Squirrel still
styled past without putting on a show.
Landeck Gorge was equally as high. Where I had
previously set up a tripod, was now knee-deep with grey water. After a very
rapid drive up the cycle lane to avoid being caught like we had been the last
time, I made it to the photo site, ready to take photos this time…. Except the
lens failed. Thoroughly defeated, I waited for Haywood to collect me. But for
some reason he turned up waving from his bike, so I waited a while longer.
Landeck Gorge
For the last evening, dinner was eaten out. More meat than Schwarzenegger
was placed on the table, and the fortnight’s paddling was discussed, while
Haywood occupied himself on the children’s swings. In fine spirits, everyone
returned to the campsite, where Kim, Earnshaw and Dave decided they would leave
that night, and packed up, arriving at the ferry at the same time as us despite our car leaving in the morning. That must have been a hella load of IKEA meatballs.
The drive home was a quiet one, mostly I assume
because I fell asleep and even Fred and Liam would find it difficult to hassle
someone who doesn’t respond. Soon enough we were touring Ashby, and then Fred
was slamming the breaks on outside our house in Liverpool, thoroughly bringing
our holiday to an abrupt end.
The final swim chart!
1st Spud, despite only one swim, how?!
2nd Dave, who before Alps, had completed a total of zero rivers.
3rd Gareth, who only found his roll in Alps 2012.
T
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