A New River, Not to be Easily Forgotten for the Wrong Reasons!

With all the rain around on 14th & 15th January, we decided to go boating in the Lakes. Desperate to try something new, we decided a spate run on the Roeburn; a fast, tree strewn little river. The browner the better according to the guidebook, and it was brown. We did a quick scout of the get-in/get-out, sorted our shuttle, and entered into the unknown.

The river was fast and brown, but surprisingly shallow. It was also remarkably continous; something we were aware of from the guidebook. Despite knowing this, the speed of the water caught my unawares. I missed the first eddy and went down a shallow rocky slope backwards and sideways. Recovering quickly, I made the next eddy and caught my breath. I wasn't warmed up, so decided the next visible section looked okay to relax the muscles and warm up properly.

From the eddy, we paddled through some very big, bouncy grade three, and a left handed bend brought us to a small wave between two rocks. I paddled through and spotted one paddler swimming into an eddy with his boat, and one upside down. Then fixing my focus back to my line, I realised why. A large tree overhung the river, followed by a smaller one. I'd now seen it too late and followed my pals in an early capsize. I just clipped it while trying to miss it, but it was enough. Underwater within 200m of the start. Nightmare! And the shallow water meant I was now banging on trees and rocks, and I pulled my deck.

This is something that I am really disappointed with. Pre back injury, my roll was bomb proof, and I had been know to stay under so long, people thought I'd been knocked out! Now I'm not even attempting a roll. I can do it though, but it seems not when I'm taken by surprise. Practice needed and lesson number one for the day.

The swim was fast and rough, and I hit lots of rocks with every part of my body. The nearest eddy was on the other side of the river, so I used my white water swimming techniques and actually made it; something that I was surprised by. And then the epic kit reuniting session took place. My boat and paddle were about 50m downstream, but a cliff was in the way and it wasn't possible to walk down the bank. The only way was up and over. The first swimmer, who was with his boat on the other side of the river, was minus his paddle.

This was opposite my boat downstream. Again, the high bank meant it was a difficult walk for him with his boat. I walked opposite him with a line in case he slipped, but eventually he made it to his paddle and ferried over to our side of the river. My climb was also tiring, and the wet, muddy slopes made it even harder. To make it worse, my boat was on an island in the river, so a short walk through the flow was needed. After thirty minutes of climbing and scrambling, all paddlers and kit were together once more.

I couldn't believe we were only about half a mile into our trip. Everyone took a breather, and we decided we were okay to carry on, but that swimming was definitely not recommended! We carried on taking a more cautious approach due to the river being full of trees. Most weren't a portage, but had the potential to cause serious problems if they weren't avoided. Thankfully, we avoided them all with ease, but the river was non-stop and left very little time for a rest. 

The trip was just getting better when we were caught out by a steel cable across the river. It was hard to see with the torrential rain and grey conditions, and we spotted it late. It was just submerged in the centre, but had collected a lot of debris. It then made a 'V' shape as it rose out of the water towards the banks. One paddler got caught on it and I had to stop on some shallow rocks and wade out to help him. Luckily it was quite shallow, so I was able to flip the boat an paddler the right way up once he was freed. He was left shaken up, and again we had to stop for a breather.

Carrying on, the river was a big and bouncy grade three blast, with some awkward waves and holes, and plenty of rocks to avoid. Everything was going well until we had another swim. This time, a lump of concrete in the river caused the capsize, and it was boat and person chasing time again. One paddler went after the boat and two of us tried to get the swimmer, but before we could, he became pinned on a tree branch just above a footbridge. I dropped down an awkward slot into in micro-eddy and jumped out to help, but the bank was high and I couldn't get my boat out fast enough. As the swimmer was clearly panicking, I jammed my boat against a small tree and stood on shallow rocks to throw my line. Luckily, he came over the top of the tree branch, down the rocky slot and into the tiny bit of still water where I was stood. He was yelling, and I was trying to calm him down, but then I realised he was shouting, 'BOAT!'

Turning around, I saw my boat being swept downstream. There was no way to catch it. My only hope was that our original chaseboater might be able to grab it, but he was already on the bank with the first boat. My boat, and all my kit in it, was gone.

After climbing up to the bank, we stood packing away throwlines. Attached to trees on either side of the river was another steel cable; too high to trouble us, but a real problem in higher water. I decided that dodging lethal cables was not on my 'to-do' list.

A very long walk saw us all reunited yet again, but we were now minus a boat and had come to the entrance to the gorge. Inspection was difficult, and we only managed it by climbing and scrambling sixty feet up the steep, sloping bank. It certainly wasn't friendly, and it certainly wouldn't have been wise to try to get through without a boat. Nor was a portage an option, so my only option was to walk out, except there was to be no 'walking' involved. The way out was around 200ft up, and it was slippy, muddy and sloping at around sixty degrees. It was decided that our swimmer would walk out with me as he couldn't carry on, so that left two to run the gorge. They were happy with it, and as it was near the end, they would get to the car and notify the police about the lonely boat!

The gradient is easing off here

After a very long and difficult climb up to the fields, using ropes for the boat and occasionally us, we made it to the fields above. All we could see were fields, and sheep, but we had to start walking. It was now well into the afternoon, and I was hoping to be able to look for my boat.

We were closely watched by anxious sheep as we walked through three fields. Just as the road appeared, so did our shuttle. I have never been so gled to get off a river and back to civilisation! I was shattered from the long climb, and angry that over a thousand pounds worth of my kit was now somewhere between the East Lakes and the Irish Sea!

As it turned out, some other paddlers had spotted my boat pinned on two trees, still on the Roeburn, so we set off walking to get it. At lease it was reportedly on our side of the river. After another mammoth trek, we found it - on the opposite side of the river! It was directly below a huge sheer cliff, so paddling to it was the only option. At least the river was fairly slack here, and it was also just above a large eddy. However, by the time we managed to get a boat in, we knew we only had one shot at the recovery mission. Fortunately, it went according to plan. Paddle across to eddy, throw line across, clip to boat, pendulum it across the river, paddle back across, job done!

By the time we had walked back to the car, it was pitch black. Without a doubt, the longest and most unforgettable day's paddling I had ever had - for all the wrong reasons!