Sunday, came down with a cold and felt horrible. Took the dogs out for about 4 mile walk. Monday, very snotty and sneezy. I was working but I had a three hour walk around a caravan park that was set on a steep hill. So by the time I had done I could really feel the pull in my calves. Tuesday I did little other than work.
Wednesday, it was dawgie walking again. Thursday, I cycled 22 miles and felt lots better than I had earlier in the week. Friday it was a lovely longer dog walk early on and I was going to go cycling again but just after I got home with the dogs it absolutely poured it down. I don't mind being out in it but I don't like setting off in it. As I was just getting over the cold it didn't seem like a good idea.
Today though, we went whitewater rafting. We had a good day but a bit dramatic in parts.
Briefing before heading down the river
Some pictures of the river from further down the course
The top of the weir
First time down the river on the raft this morning we flipped it at the top of a weir and we all fell out. I came to the surface with the boat on top of me and when I got to the surface again I couldn't get a breath (suspect it was the shock of the cold water) I didn't feel frightened thatI was in fast water just that I kept going under and couldn't get a breath properly. Our leader, Heath, grabbed me and took the brunt of the rocks and did his bad knee in again. He was brilliant! He held onto me until I was safe.
Some people we know were on the bank and had witnessed it and eventually fished me out of an eddy, where I was now standing reasonably safely. They were going to get me a lift back but I said I was going back in the raft or I might not do it again. So we set off again (my partner Peter and daughter Isobel, were in the raft too) with a shortage of paddles (other paddlers had recovered them further down) and we finished the course.
I went back down again a little later just to make sure I was okay with it.
Then I got talking to a woman who I didn't know and ended up walking her spaniel, Milly (for 'walking' see next paragraph).
Milly's 'mum' on the river
Then Peter went down the course in his own kayak and capsized but set off again. He got to the weir, came down the first part, capsized and came out of the boat down the next part of the weir. He got out alright but his boat and paddle carried on. I ran/walked down the course with Milly, the spaniel, to see what happened to the boat and by the time I got to the end it had been recovered. I loaded it on the van, then r/w the 1.5 miles back to the top of the course.
Peter on the left, near the top of the river
Peter, paddling on down quite happily
At the top of the weir
Ooops, got that wrong
Meanwhile Isobel managed numerous trips down the course with friends (the guy who was our leader, the first time down, Heath and his son, Josh, that is) and she ended up 'swimming' four times and loved every minute.
Heath is at the back of the boat guiding it. Isobel is the one with the black helmet and pink shorts. They were having fun surfing one of the little weirs
We are all a bit battered and bruised but we've had a great day and those two are going back tomorrow for more. I'm cycling!
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