May 2000 Scotland Trip

My trip to Scotland included two parts. The first part was with Battenkill Canoe and should have been a balance of canoeing and hiking. Because river levels were very low, we ended up hiking more than anything else.

We started in the Scottish Highlands. From a point near our temporary base in Killin, we ascended the Tarmachan Ridge (near Ben Lawers). Here is our intrepid group taking a break. Missing are Dave and Carolyn.

The scene on the left was taken our our way up to the ridge shown on the right. After crossing the Tarmachan Ridge we descended to a well-deserved beer or two.

We next explored the Isle of Skye. The highlight was an area near the town of Uig (ooh-ig), on the northwest part of island, called the Quiraing (pronounced coo-rang). Tourists usually walk around the mountain, but we choose to scramble into it. Behind Dave and Ed, the trail winds up to the left of the rocks jutting up on the right. We left the trail at that point and worked our way up the talus slope. John, Kathy, Carolyn, Monica and Maureen pause part of the way up. In the third shot, Kathy and Jim near the top of the scramble.

At the top of the scramble, we reached a large plateau a few hundred feet below the top of the mountain. The views from here were spectacular.

It was so nice up there, and so protected from the wind, that we had lunch there. Here the guides, John, Carolyn, and Jim set up our repast.

Everyone except John, Dave, Ed, and me wussed out and descended. We took a path around the back side which led us to the top of the cliff.

After an hour or two, we reached the top, where we looked out over the plateau where we had eaten lunch. In the first group shot of your intrepid explorers are Ed, Dave, and John. In the second Shot are Dave, your humble webmaster, and Ed.

After the trip was over, I stayed in the town of Pitlochry for a week, where I took whitewater kayaking instruction from John McLaren. On my days off from instruction, I took various hikes in the vicinity of the town. These are from Craigower. The first shows the town of Pitlochry in the distance, and the other two look off in the direction of Fort William and Ben Nevis.

I don't have any photos of my instruction with John, but here is a description which I had emailed to some friends...

So I spend 4 days and uncountable riches taking swimming lessons from John McLaren (Nae Limits). Does he teach me the butterfly stroke? The breast stroke? Nooooo...

The first day is on the River Tay, actually on the Islay, before it joins the Tay. We put in and John teaches me how not to cross eddy lines. John says, if you don't lean, you'll capsize. He's right. 5 times, as I recall. The good news is that my wet exit from an upsidedown kayak is improving...

We run some class I rapids without incident, but I sure can't get the lean down. John keeps telling me how easy it is. And has the temerity to show me how it's done with so much as a brace to help stabilize the boat. I finish the the day thinking I'll never get this, and that my life is destined to become a series of swims in cold water.

We visit the Moulin Inn near Pitlochry for two pints of Old Remedial. I now feel better.

Day two. I am mightily discouraged. We put in the boats in the Tay upstream from Stanley. I tell John that I don't get this leaning stuff, and that we better find some different way to get it through my thick skull. We paddle into flatwater and after many tries, I actually manage to lean the boat. At least sort of. The lean is spastic and shaky, but at least it's a lean...

John drills me and drills me, and then we start doing breakins/breakouts across a mild eddy line. After a swim or two, I finally do a ragged breakout without dumping. John is merciless. Drill: breakout, breakin, breakout, etc. Accompanied by another swim or two.

We run the river a bit and come to the "weir", supposedly a dam built by some monks. Somewhere. Sometime. We get out to scout. There are two ways to go. The channel to river left is the easiest, and I opt for that one. Because the one on river right has 200 foot waves and I'm chicken! I run the left channel. Successfully. We go downstream, and John makes me drill some more. And swim some more.

We come to the rapid at Stanley Mills, and John leads me through running it. We deliberately steer to miss the hole at the end of the long wave train. All it happy, and we run the last rapid at Thistle Brig. This goes fine until we eddy out at the end of the rapid to get to the take out point. I take a nice 45 degree angle into the eddy. I do a perfect lean to the right. I fall over and swim. I thought I was in the eddy, but hadn't puched through yet. John suppresses a chuckle.

We pick up the boats and go to the Moulin inn for two more pints of Old Remedial. I feel better. Not only did I swim fewer times, but I crossed some eddy lines without dumping.

Day three. Everything hurts -- shoulders, arms, thighs, from all of the drill John has been putting me through. This time, we put up in much higher in the Tay -- between Aberfeldy and Grandtully (according to John, this is pronounced "Grandly"). We stop at his fleecemonger to order "Nae Limits" fleeces for Ed, Dave, and me.

I thought John was merciless the prior day. This time he shows me the true meaning of no pity. Drill and more drill on eddy lines. I am actually getting this. John points out after I do a solid breakout and breakin that I have stopped bracing as I do the turns -- he has continually told me that the turns are very stable. I refuse to believe him, of couse, because leaning a kayak is about as natural as walking one your knees. Here, though, appears to be proof that he's right.

We run a number of rapids, finally coming to the top of the large one at Grandtully, where the Scottish National slalom is held. I am scared ****less after we scout it, and we take a sneak route so I don't get killed.

Below the slalom course there is one last rapid. John says "Go ahead. Just run it." I look downriver and all I can see is some big rocks and a horizon line. I ignore John's advice, eddy out river right, and tell him I'm not moving until we scout this one out. He asks why... I tell him that I don't have clue about what's below there.

John sort of chuckles and says someting to the effect that I'm right not to take his word for what's there, and that we should get out of the boats to see why.

So we get out of the boats and scramble up on the rocks on river right. Holy s**t. HOLY S**T! River left is trash -- full of rocks, impassible. In the center is a big rock island. River right is a ledge running from the island to the rocks we are standing on, divided in the middle by a large rock.

So there's only two choices: left of the big rock, or right of it. In both cases there is large drop, at least a thousand feet, into a hole. John asks me which I prefer -- to die on the left or right. I say that I suppose the left. He makes a derrisive snort and says I am full of it. To demonstrate why, he runs the drop on the right, eddys out and then tries to take is boat back across the hole on the right. He paddles like crazy but can't get into it. John says "now watch" as he tries it with the left hole. The hole tries to suck him in -- he doesn't even have to paddle towards it. I am convinced. The hole on left is a "bad hole", on the right "good hole". We discuss the setup and line to run it. John remains at the bottom to collect body parts when I try to run it.

I peel out at the top, and I know my line is perfect. It just feels right -- just to the right of the small wave train, but not so far as to risk hitting the rocks we had been standing on. I go over the ledge. I am in the air for at least 10 minutes watching the boiling water in the hole below.

It's like you see on the TV. My boat hits the hole in an explosion of water, and sinks into the hole -- the water is well up to my chest. No time to think about how I'm going to die. Miraculously, my boat comes back to the surface. I shoot down the wave train and go over a pourover and hole there in another explosion of water. The water calms, and I eddy out where John is waiting. After checking to see if I had soiled my wetsuit, I realize that I just had a really great ride.

We go to the Moulin Inn for two pints each of Old Remedial.

Day four. We go back where we were on day two, paddle up to the rapid by the dike, and John drills me and drills me. I capsize once. He drills me some more. By now I think I've got this leaning stuff pretty well down. We run the river a bit and come to the weir again. This time there is no discussion -- we scout from the boats and take the stronger channel on river right without discussion about how I'm going to die.

I make it through, negotiate the wave train, and then paddle back up the weir so John can show me a few things about it. We run the river some more, and then do more drill.

We come to Stanley Mills again, and this time John says: "Run it right down the middle, and I want you to run squarely through the hole at the end. You may think it's part of the wave train, but it's not." He remains behind to retrieve what's left of me, I suppose.

I have a blast running this -- the waves are big, and then I come to the hole. It's going to swallow me, I think, I know it's going to swallow me! I smash into the hole, and water flies everywhere. I realize I'm through it and that I had a great time!

We come to the last rapid -- Thistle Brig -- and I run it without incident. I steer to the eddy by the takeout, John shouts out "lean", so I lean to the right. Unfortuneatly, I have listened to John who's shout is premature. So just like two days ago, I put on a perfect lean. And fall over again. Sheeeesh.

We once more down Old Remedial at Moulin and part for the last time. I realize that I have learned a great deal, and have run some stuff as hard or harder as anything we ran in Costa Rica!

Jim thought he could convert me back to canoes this trip -- in fact John confirmed my conversion to kayaks.