Christie Cup Victors & A New Committee!

So this is a little late in coming, but Liverpool Canoe Polo guys and gals retained the title once again as Kings in the North (Just call us Stark!) in the Christie Cup last month.

Unlucky Manchester and Leeds, it was a lovely afternoon down at Collingwood Dock, the sun actually came out for us! The free Aldi food was ace and everyone had a good time.Thank you FOA for letting us use the docks for another year. 

Liverpool won all their matches and helped Liverpool to second place overall behind Manchester. Liverpool hosted this year, so for once we actually went to the ceremony and after a bit of waiting, got some lovely medals for our efforts. The final overall result came right down to the last few minutes, and we lost to Manchester by 3 POINTS! The closest it's been for a few years I think. Damn Mancs! 

But we won, so the Canoe Club doing their bit for the Uni for another year (hint hint give us more money please). 

ALSO....

NEW COMMITTEE! 
Earlier this month our brand new committee for next year was elected. The final line up is on the Committee page on here, so take a look and we wish everyone the best of luck for 2015/16! 

Summer is Coming....

So, we're all suffering a bit from exams/dissertation/life. But Summer is almost here! The end is nigh, have courage! Here is a video because I'm in the library at 05:13, and it's grim, so cheer is needed!

Video Credit to Chris Kayley. :) 

Scotland Trip: An Unexpected Journey, Ailort and Upper Spean Day.

Another day report of our Scotland trip at Easter.

By Hannah James-Johnson/JJ

So, having paddled the Ailort last year in similar conditions, it was not a hotly anticipated river of the trip. HOWEVER, we had all forgotten how pleasant a paddle down it could actually be. 

After some layby issues and driving past each other going in opposite directions (and a stop at the Harry Potter bridge), we kitted up and got on the rather windy lake. Elliot went for a short scenic paddle round an island and Akim got a technical for conveniently 'forgetting' his wetsuit ( though he suspiciously found it once we got to the get-off SUSPICIOUS SOME MIGHT SAY).

The initial rapid was a bit bonier than we all remembered and caught Maeve out SWIMMERRR. (We're allowed to bully her now, she can roll on a river ). Everyone paddled it, Karina&the inazone bossed it after some initial nerves and everyone regrouped at the bottom for some ferrying practice. Waller tried to convince everyone backwards ferry gliding was a thing: I'm not convinced. 

If you forget the minor bursts of hale and the wind, it was a rather pleasant morning winding through the trees to the grassy get-out. 

Having not really had a plan for the day initially, the day took a turn for the EVEN BETTER when it was decided we'd run the Upper Spean. The Laggan Damn was on two pipes so it was a go, and after a bit of deliberating, I was convinced to do it. The dream team of me, Fiona, Wallerbingbang, Jordan, Jack, Elliot, Neil and Thwaites set off climbing down a rather snowy hill to a get-on where looking upstream was just not going to happen: spray from the dam and sleety snow was covering us as we put on. There were some nerves, but sticking in our pairs we worked our way downstream dodging holes, rocks, pour-overs (or in Neil's case punching through every hole possible with Jack paddling behind, mildly regretting his partner allocation as he hole dodged). Personally it was possibly the hardest river I'd every done in the sense that it was just so continuous. By the time we made our first eddy, I was, for the first time, very much in need of the rest it provided. It was a little terrifying having to be on the ball all the time, but focussing on where I was going and how I was getting there worked much better than trying to follow someone. 

I took a swim about 3/4s of the way down the initial harder section and despite 3 roll attempts I annoyingly took a swim (boo. I did have 3 attempts though Dom- so it's statistically relevant ha) 

After being told swimming on this river would probably mean kit loss, I was mentally planning my insurance claim as I walked down the bank only to find my boat and paddles bobbing happily in an eddy on the opposite bank :D. Thanks for the rescue everyone, promise I wont swim next time!

With the river easing off, we had a chilled paddle down to the gorge where we were caught up and lapped by the 'Athletes' Earndog and Chamedog who were lapping the entire section like excited puppies. We all got off, had a look at the gorge (I had already made the decision to walk round so just watched everyone) and everyone but me decided to do it. There was some debate over preferred lines, with some taking the Left, whilst others powered across to the middle after having watched the 9R style this line really smoothly. 

So, Jack decided to set off. I was standing at the mouth of the gorge and paying no attention to those getting on when I saw an orange and grey burn float past pretty submerged. My initial thoughts were naturally  'Jack's kicked his boat in, idiot haha' and then 'oh shit, Jack's kicked MY boat in, idiot'

Looking back upstream I witnessed the extracting of Mr.Ward from a clump of trees by Thwaites & Co, and his rather sheepish face as he explained that he hadn't been looking at the trees when he got caught up against them. His paddles had vanished and as an act of gentlemanly shame (hahaha sorry Jack) he carried my boat the few hundred metres down to the get out. 

All in all, a very good day! 

"Twas I that hauled Jack from the tree by the scruff of his BA into my accidentally awaiting crotch"
-Ben Thwaites, 2015.  

By JJ. 

Scotland: Mother F***ing Etive Day.

Just one of the many awesome days we had paddling in Scotland.
By Mog Over.

So the day we had been waiting for was here - it was motherf***ing Etive day- so we all trekked up through the very misty Scottish mountains eagerly to a slightly foreboding Triple Step (three big drops) - the start of the Etive!

As a few of us looked at the drops searching for the best lines to take, others just waited around planning on simply staying in the upright position! The majority of us had our go - some with far drier heads then others!! After a few hours of attempting, rescuing and the general entertaining chaos that comes with Triple Step - we all carried on downstream most of us pretty happy with how we had managed it!! We carried on slowly with a few getting off along the way. Paddling Ski Jump, Crack of Doom, Letterbox and Crack of Dawn - all with varying success, interesting lines and a few sneaky swims which kept everyone busy rescuing and portaging. (I hate feeding their ego but only a few had a #noportages day)


Then of course came the final drop: Right Angle ( a 6m waterfall - less scary than it sounds, promise ) Here again we spent a while facing up to the challenge and then keeping a brave face as we trusted Stu to send us off down the drop!

Fair to say we were all a far smilier group at the bottom - even if one of us did manage to leave their boat behind the waterfall for half an hour (wasn't me)! At the end it was safe to say we were all a lot more relaxed bimbling down the last part of the river. Knackered, hungry and a bit chilly, we battled on to the get-out (and our sandwiches woo) We had conquered the Etive - on my part mostly upside down ( best way to do it!! ). After 7 hours filled with adrenaline, entertaining lines and a lot of throwlining I think it's fair to say the Etive had lived up to being a motherfucking good day!


Love Mog xxxx

BUCS Slalom 2015- Pole Dancing on The Tees

I wonder, how many Facebook events have you clicked “attending” to, all the while knowing you have no intention of doing so? I am as guilty as the next man, and so when I responded to LUCC’s invitation to BUCS slalom with an irritatingly bet-hedging “Maybe”, I expected that to be the end of it. Until I got a message from our esteemed vice-captain asking if I was definitely going. Having first made it clear that I would be approximately one-tenth of the use of a chocolate teapot at a fire-eater’s convention (my days on white water can still be counted on a leper’s hand), I said yes, and spent the next few weeks trying to work out what the hell I’d let myself in for. 

Apparently it involved paddling down a white water course (the Tees barrage to be exact), while attempting to pass through a series of gates, both in upstream and downstream directions. How hard could it be?

JJ's Second Run.

Duly, on the inauspicious date of Friday 13^th, we loaded up and our small band of plucky amateurs (and Emily, our concession to taking this thing seriously- team GB don’cha know), and a couple of hangers-on set off on the long journey to the far north. I didn’t have the chance to look at a map, but I imagine the area where we were headed had “Here be monsters” written across it in archaic lettering. In any case, we arrived at Aycliffe Village Hall, home for the next two nights. But not on our own, oh no! We were bunking with Manchester Uni Canoe Club, who appeared to have brought a small army. Luckily, we had prepared enough food for one, and set about eating. A few days earlier we been issued a stern announcement, the general gist of which was to not imbibe excessive amounts of alcohol the night before competing (representing the uni, AU subsidising the event etc.). For official purposes  I suppose I’m obliged to say we adhered to it fully, but there were plenty of empty bottles and cans the following morning. For medicinal purposes obviously.

The next day dawned grey, and as I looked down on the slalom course for the first time, I began to fully emphasise with Sir Patrick Spens (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rlococGqzg8 for those unfamiliar with 1970s British folk rock) and questioned what the hell I was doing here. We spent the morning eyeing up the course, possibly hoping something would pass through by osmosis (well, it did involve water!), and some of us tried their hand at judging (i.e. did they hit the gates? Did they go through the right way? Does it count if they’re upside down?). 

Anyway, time flies like an arrow, fruit flies like a banana, and the men’s K1 could be put off no longer. My first run was less than successful, my carefully choreographed rolling forgotten in the freezing cold hole below gate 5. Once safely on the bank I located my errant boat and set off back to the start. Matt, Andy and the Bens all made good runs while I psyched myself up for my second. This time I made it to the bottom, though all but one of the upstream gates went west. Next came the turn of our dream team of Emily, Maeve and JJ. Things looked promising until one of them (no names, no pack drill, but it involves a certain treasurer) swam. The all-for-one-and-one-for-all nature of the team event meant they came out with a big fat DNF.

Photo Credit- Philip Carr, Unsponsored.

Paddling done, we rounded the day off with trip to a quiet pub in Aycliffe to watch the rugby and play pool, mulling over the day’s events over a comforting pint. Returning to the hall, more food was eaten, yet more “medicinal” liquor passed our lips, and fun and games ensued with our Mancunian friends both old and new.

The next day, it was the girls’ turn to show their paddling prowess. Maeve redeemed herself with two great runs in quick succession; Emily also turned out an impressive performance, finishing up in 9^th place. Alas, Mog was caught by the dreaded gate 5, and suffered the ignominy of being rescued after her boat! Happily, she completed a second run with relative ease. JJ came a cropper towards the end of her first run, but, after a little bit of arm twisting from Mog and your humble narrator, she had another go, and came out smiling at the bottom. Much of the rest of the day was spent spectating and cheerleading, especially for the few intrepid Mancs brave enough to enter the C1 and C2 events. I wore myself out racing the paddlers down the course to get a few photos.

Our gambit for the men’s team was the two Bens and Matt. The trio pulled out all the stops and gave a spectacular performance, eventually coming in at a respectable 14^th out of 25. Of course, things can’t go that well, and unfortunately Mr. Waller was caught out by the hole at the end of the course. Minor carnage ensued with Matt and Thwaites close behind, which culminated in a stop off at the Royal Liverpool hospital on our return. That little blip aside, a good weekend was had by all, and everyone could add a few more strings to their bow. Overall, we came 14^th out of 21 unis. Maybe next year we will ace it…

By John 'That's the badger' Bickerton