Our trip started out with some typical drunken debauchery and numerous major
violations of traffic law. Once we actually got to Devon the trend continued.
The powder mills bunk house was packed with all kinds of would be canoeists
and degenerates (us). Having drunk plenty on the bus, I thought I'd actually
have an early night, only to get up in the wee hours and see Matt and Simon
throwing Lindsay around in WWF style as she made strange high pitched noises!?!.
The paddling started on Saturday and seemed pretty exciting to me, at least
compared to any of the other rivers so far, though my steady leaders Lee and
Brian didn't seem too challenged. Plenty of people ended up in the drink, with
some of us getting in our swim team practice. No one died (unfortunately).
After paddling the river once, some people were actually so silly as to go back
to the top and do it again. Most of us were sensible enough to take hot showers
(nice touch) and then head for the pub (even nicer touch), then head to another
pub (even better). It was Brain's birthday, and we managed to sing to him across
the entire pub, which brought new shades of red to Brian's face, the like's
of which I've never before seen. When we returned to the bunkhouse the singing
began again, along with a series of kisses from a long line of women (don't
you wish it was your birthday?). Otherwise the night was rather tame by canoe
club standards, with no vomiting or baked bean games, and everyone in bed before
1 (pansies). Sunday was basically a repeat, without as much drinking or singing.
It's worth mentioning that Dave Reid did manage to drive all the way to the
river to go paddling and leave all of his paddling kit at the bunkhouse (did
I mention that he drives like Mario Andretti on Speed?). The trip down the Dart
was a little less exciting on Sunday due to lower levels, but better than sitting
at home looking at Internet porn…sort of. When we finally packed up at
the end of the day we managed to commit one last sin by driving the bus into
the canoe center's sign post, then ripping the sign from its post and continuing
on our way. The trip home was long and boring, much like this trip report. See
you next time.
By David Millar
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