First you go left. Then you go right.

2012. That was the instruction as we dropped into the second half of the Château Q gorge. As my dad quickly discovered this was not ‘that far’ right.

The rough description of grade IV is that you need to know the line. This could be due to the line being fairly complex, or because of an ‘interesting’ consequence, or usually a bit of both. The more exciting way of paddling IV however is to not know the line but to be given a brief outline of it as you sit in an unstable eddy a couple of feet above a blind horizon line.

Matt explaining the line at the top of Euthanasia

I recently had the pleasure of loosing my Upper Dart virginity in the presence of one Jack Grace (also an Upper virgin) and a good friend of ours ‘expedition paddler: Matt Brook’.

Matt is one of those people who is always a joy to paddle with. Whether your just bimbling down grade II or nervously peering over the horizon line  of Euthanasia there is always a joke to be shared and a laugh to be had. This was exemplified on a flat section just below Dartmeet as we  flared off the only rock we could find. Okay Matt flared. I completely misjudged the angle and did something more akin to a pin trending towards a generally capsized style manoeuvre (which I still maintain was entirely intentional).

After a quick hand from Jack to exit my moderately damper-than-desired inverted rock embrace, and having consumed my daily dose of beaterbix, we continued down the river.

A standard time for a lap of the Upper Dart is usually reckoned to be between 2-3 hours depending upon the group size and ability. We smashed out our run in about 1 hour and 25 minutes, hunting out all the best boofs, flairs and fun lines thanks to our ‘describe and run’ technique. One particular favourite moment of mine was when we slipped through a small channel between islands emerging just above a suitably sized hole. While I may not have fully accomplished the task of ‘moving across and riding the curler’, opting more for a snorkelling technique through the hole (again entirely intentional), the joy to be found in this style of paddling is rapidly figuring out your cryptic instructions as the river is revealed to you. If you are lucky you might just achieve this with enough time to execute your finished puzzle.

Through the island, across the pillow, into the hole

Obviously this type of paddling is not for everyone. It requires that everyone is competent enough to figure out the lines on the fly and that everyone is capable of getting themselves out of trouble when they don’t. Oh, and you need at least one person to know the river well enough to not send you into some sort of monster hole/syphon/shark. But I would definitely rate it as one of the top ways of paddling new rivers simply because it is exciting, fast and fun.

(Side note: ‘Laps’ of the Upper Dart have been know to take 8+ hours and may result in 2-3 helicopters and the incineration of a first aid kit, however this is a story for another time.)

River Stench: An inception

To my surprise I found myself welcoming in this new year less than a mile away from where I started paddling over 10 years ago. At this party I surrounded by 1 part familiar faces, 2 parts people that I had met but couldn’t remember and 7 parts complete strangers. This, coincidentally, was roughly the recipe for the strange vodka, martini and rum ‘cocktail’ that I found myself to be drinking. It was here quite tired (after 3 days on the dart) and moderately tipsy that I found myself being introduced to the  7 parts complete strangers as “Nick: The guy who’s house always has a distinct river stench”.

While this is not a great way to be introduced to anyone (thanks Anna) is undeniable my small student house in Nottingham does have a permeating  rivery aroma to it. Most of this can be attributed to the thermals, kags and BAs that constantly drape the radiators in the vague hope of drying despite our stubbornness to turn on the heating. The rest could be attributed to personal hygiene (but totally isn’t). Some might say that this is to be expected for a house of kayakers, that this is the norm. The sad truth however is that out of the four residents I am the only paddler. But I always do my best to make up for the others by paddling at least once or twice most days.

Now one would think that after such regular paddling for many a year I should have some good stories to tell. Crazy and wacky adventures. Tales of such courage and heart that they could be the stuff of legends! I don’t. But I have gotten pretty good at embellishing the minor melodramas I have experienced which is lucky as otherwise the 7 parts complete strangers would probably know me as ‘River Stench’ rather than ‘that guy who tried to drown himself attempting to recover a go pro’.

I hope you enjoy these accounts of my misadventures and remember to remove your buoyancy aid before attempting to dive to the bottom of a lake.

p.s. Big thanks to my housemates who were all really chill when they discovered I had replaced our sofas with yet more kayaks.