This was a trip with a difference: due to some heavy rain the previous week, there was actually water in the river for once! Unfortunately there was probably too much water though, but more on that later.

The lucky ones among us set off in Lee’s car towing the trailer at about 1630, followed about an hour later by the bus. Unfortunately our intrepid bus drivers had neglected to check where they were going, or even if they had a map (nice one Chris and Northern Dave) so whilst we made good time towards Dulverton in Lee’s car we were getting regular phone calls asking where to go next. Despite giving them directions, they still managed to drive half an hour in the wrong direction and miss the trip to the pub. Luckily for them the pub we went to was inhabited by some of the grumpiest people you’ll ever meet, so they didn’t miss much. We returned from the pub to find that the bus had finally arrived, and also that they had a map all along but hadn’t realized. With everyone together, the usual drinking, singing and games commenced.

The next morning after a decent breakfast we went to look at the Barle, which was very high and not really suitable at all for beginners. This was frustrating but I’d rather be frustrated than dead and it’s a credit to the club that they are so safety conscious. Undeterred, it was decided that we would drive down to the River Exe to see if there was a suitable section to paddle. Inevitably this involved huge amounts of faffing but eventually a 1km section of very high river was found and the more experienced paddlers prepared to take small groups down this. At this point seven of us decided to go up to Saunton Sands in Devon to get some surfing in instead of paddling the river (Thanks to Simon & Henna and Doug & Debs for taking myself Jimmy and Jo) and we got a good few hours surfing our boats on a choppy sea. Back on the river there was a lot of swimming, some intentional and some less so. By the time we returned we found the rest of the group had been off the river long enough to get changed and head to a pub nearby for dinner.

The venue for the evening’s festivities was the Rock House Inn, known to some as ‘the singing pub’ due to their relaxed attitude to a rowdy bunch of drunken canoeists. After a few drinking games from those of us who take our drinking more seriously, and some card games from those who take a more ‘sober’ approach to drinking (fear not, reader, I can assure you I am firmly in the former group) the inevitable jug of doom was bought round and the traditional singing took place. Strangely, we had managed to start drinking too early and by 0100 the majority of people were tucked in bed leaving the last of us no option but to turn in for the night too. In hindsight this was probably a good thing given the size of my hangover on Sunday morning.

The rain had managed to stay off overnight, allowing the river to drop to a level that meant safer paddling, although it was expected that it would be a messy day. These expectations were right, given that we lost two boats, had several people carrying their boats to the get off and had more swims a shoal of mackerel. Despite all the carnage, there was a lot of fun had and plenty of interesting stories. Including the last group (with all its beginners out the river) finishing the last few km practically in the dark. I had volunteered along with Adam to stay off the river as there were too many beginners and we were mainly employed with taking photos and the odd carrying of boats and rescuing people from the river. We got a couple of decent vantage points, helped by the extremely friendly locals of Dulverton who allowed us onto their property on several occasions.

Eventually when all the people who were scattered along the edge of the Barle were returned safely to their transport, we all set off for the Exeter Inn for a well earned meal and tales of the day’s events. After this the journey home was made, although having a map couldn’t help the min-bus stay on course, as I’m told they got lost again.