27th December 2001
First day here & it's the return of our old favourite Spean "goes at any level" Gorge. Much as we'd like faff for a while (we love it really...) it's snowing & a few degrees below zero so we bite the bullet & get on.
We paddle lots of twisty technical stuff - Fairy Steps goes nicely at this level - until a distant roar signifies the nastiest drop, Headbanger. We all hold our breath as Lee runs it; & then make our various excuses, citing old hockey injuries, uncomfortable boats, we'd really love to run it but have a slight indigestion lingering from breakfast... & avoiding making eye contact with one another we all portage it.
The river winds narrowly between sheer rock walls worn into bizarre melted-looking shapes by much higher water than today's. It would be interesting to see the river when it's this much higher- preferably from some kind of helicopter.
Every so often, as now, it takes a sharp turn & disappears entirely from view; this time it's no mere bend in the river, it's the Constrictor & our biggest drama of the day. There's a wider area above where we can gather & watch brave paddlers one by one vanish round this corner through a very narrow gap indeed. That's all we can see from above though; did everyone make it? Don't ask me...
Just Dave & I left now, so here goes... Through the gap the flow widens slightly into a small swirly pool, turns right more & out through an equally narrow exit. It fancies a bite of the Method Air though & I get caught by the swirl, pushed against the wall, fall in, roll, finally get the boat pointing the right way & I'm clear. Smooth, with a capital SMOO. Not to be outdone, Dave follows my line but the Constrictor takes even more of a shine to the Mr Clean & doesn't want to let go of its new toy. Despite some rolling heroics we've a swimmer on our hands.
& Thom, running "safety", hasn't brought his line.
"Thom, throw me a line!"
Bugger.
"Get me a line!"
Hmmm.
"Get me a bloody line!!"
Does anyone...
"Throw me..."
...have a...
"...line!"
This goes on for some time.

28th December 2001
The road to the Roy can only have been built as a joke. Really. The only other explanation I can think of is that some navvies with some surplus tarmac dumped it on the nearest mountain-goat trail, where they didn't think anyone would ever find it...
We make our winding way along this single-track ice rink, trying not to plunge to our deaths. At this point it's quite a nice morning, snowing slightly but we've a clear view of snow-covered mountains on either side of the huge and steep Roy valley. No doubt glaciers were involved.
We leave Lindsay, Lizzie & Ava by the beginning of the lower Roy & proceed on up to the trickier gorge section. On the way one lump of slush in the road becomes a rock & makes nasty noises in the underside of Bri's car.
We arrive at the get-on & the weather's got worse, of course. In fact, by the time we've been & looked at the river it's painful to be outside, we're being sandblasted by evil little snowflakes & we take refuge in cars. Mat & Nic, keen as mustard, are getting changed in Nic's van & berating anyone who'll listen for being wusses & not doing the same... we aren't convinced.
Eventually though it clears enough for canoeing to become an option again & a hardy few- Thom, Katie & I- join Mat & Nic, who are clearly the hardest of the hard, & we finally get on.
& it's a fantastic river- we go over countless drops & dodge innumerable rocks even before we get to the portage. While we're carrying our kit along the bank the sun finally shows & lights up all the mountains; it's a beautiful day again! We spare a thought for all the poor fools who didn't come with us before making the 10-foot seal launch & the fun begins again.

All this time Lindsay, Lizzie & Ava had been:
a) Patiently awaiting our arrival
b) Stamping around shouting, "where the bastard hell are they?!"
Answers on a postcard to the usual address.
In any case, when we finally appear we don't find them burning effigies of us to keep warm, & they don't throw things so maybe we weren't too long... hmmm.
The lower section's more interesting than we'd thought & we're kept entertained until darkness starts to fall... & continues to fall... & we're not at the end yet! An executive decision is made & at a point where it's merely 'very steep indeed' & we can see the road we call a halt. By the time we've towed the kit up the slope it's nearly dark. Mat & Ava have gone to find someone- anyone- & finally lights appear & rescue.
It turns out we were only a few hundred yards from the get-out proper, but how were we supposed to know that, eh?

29th December 2001
Scotland's so cold that now we're running out of options- everything's frozen! However, we know another river that always goes & so we set off for the Arkaig.
The road is narrow & icy- which you notice in a rear wheel drive Beamer I can tell you! It winds past, on one side, loch Lochy and on the other a pine forest from which we're watched by a herd of deer complete with branching antlers. Snow is falling gently. Welcome to Scotland!
The get-on is at the side of loch Arkaig; Mat strikes a pose as Mr January & I find that my kit, which I left in Nic's van last night, has frozen solid. As our president-in-exile would put it: fuck a stoat!
While the cars are being shuttled we start getting on the loch, which clearly stretches for miles into the distance. The river flows out under a bridge on the other side, a few hundred yards away. By the time we're halfway across, I notice the view isn't what it was: a huge grey curtain has descended across the loch about half a mile away and is heading this way as fast as only Scottish weather can move. Soon it's closed in completely & we're encased in (another...) stinging blizzard. Can't see more than thirty metres or so, Lizzie & I blunder around for a bit before finding shelter behind the bridge with Mat, & we are gradually joined by the others.
The river flows through a rhododendron forest, adding interest to normally mundane breakouts...
It's a short river & we soon arrive at the only major rapid of the day. It's an interesting enough affair & we run it without any problems. There are some funky playspots & I have a go at some tricks, no joy though. A front-loop isn't worth many points, certainly not in water this cold! All too soon, we reach the end of the river at loch Lochy, & that's the end of that.
In the evening we hit the town (Roy Bridge...) to check out the second pub. As we arrive they're setting up for a quiz & we sign up to demonstrate our dazzling intellects. To make sure, we enter two teams, randomly; "Sussex" and "Poly". Accusations of skulduggery and double-dealing fly, & in the end, by fair means and foul, team Poly comes third. At what cost to the unity of our close-knit group? As the vendetta heats up, the quiz compére tries to settle it with a decider question: "what is the only animal in the world with two penises?" No one knows; the feud goes on, tricky since most here are members of both clubs. (Later, Poly Me leaves a horse's head in my bed, Sussex Me is suitably intimidated...) We are sold on the merits of the pub as a new-year venue by one of the locals- the clincher really is when he explains there's no way in hell we'll be able to get taxis back from Fort William at two in the morning new year's day.
On the way back, snowball fights abound (in the middle of the A86!).
& it was a Komodo Dragon.

30th December 2001
We drive back to the highlands bound for Glen Etive. It's quite a drive, the last part is along the kind of road we're used to by now: covered in ice, with a huge drop on one side, so we're kept entertained. It is still several degrees below zero & this becomes the coldest weather I've ever paddled, narrowly beating the previous champion (i.e. yesterday) into second.
There are a couple of other paddlers here, both on leave from the army. Thinking we know what we're doing, they join us for the ride. Quite a ride it is too...
Immediately we get on we're faced with Triple Falls; two fairly meaty falls close together followed a short distance later by the third, which is as big as the first two together!
I mentioned it was cold?- well even by now our pogies, decks & buoyancy aids sport layers of ice- this is silly! There's a lot of ice on the river too, & at one slow-moving point the Etive is frozen over completely. It takes even our new army friends quite a while to forge a path.
It's followed by the "left... further left, going left" Letterbox. You really, really don't want to run through the middle of this one.
More of the same follows... & we approach the Crack of Dawn, probably the most difficult of the day (portage notwithstanding...). It starts with a riverful of rocks to twist through, easy to end up backwards or something, though no one does. Immediately a diagonal drop into a narrow gorge (which is narrower than our paddles... watch the video) & over another fall into a large pool at the bottom. Don't know what we were worried about!
As I'm going through this gorge there's a shout from above "get the line...!" & sure enough there's a throwline on a rock on the edge of the main channel; I swipe a paddle at it & the line obediently follows me over the fall. Of course I meant to do it!
The last fall of the section has several names; the Scottish translates as "Big Man's Falls". It's a six metre monster & if that weren't enough there are a couple of awkward drops just before it, & it's not one to run upside-down. It's possible to bypass them & get on in an eddy just above the falls, though: after watching Katie run the whole thing one of the army guys is heard to mutter "bloody hell, I'll have to do it now...".
The banks are accessible for most of the distance & our antics are recorded for posterity by Jen, Lizzie, Bri & Lindsay, allowing us to re-live Katie going second class through the Letterbox, Mat breaking a slab of ice with his head and Nic's summing up of the last waterfall "Oh my God it's fucking hi..."<splasshhh> - classics all.
Before changing Nic becomes Mr February, at this rate we might have a calendar yet!
As it happens Bri has brought some snow chains- handy cos there's no way we're getting the Beamer out of here without them!
Back at the chalets, we wire up the video cameras & the night echoes to the sounds of "Ooh, you don't want to do that..." "is he going to roll in time?..." "ouch!..."

31st December 2001
New Year's Eve! As the pubs aren't open yet we have to find something else to do. As luck would have it, there's finally enough snow for the Nevis ski range to open, so that becomes Our Plan. In the morning though we head up the road to have a look at the Gloy (or was it the Loy; Roy, what's going on with these names...?) & "thinks": well it probably goes... it's low though. & anyway we've got a snowboarding lesson in an hour & a half. Okaaay. Back in the cars.
This afternoon, groups of people doing different things; walking, skiing, if you were one of those then put finger to keyboard & tell us about it! See your name in print!
Meanwhile then:
Thom, Jen, Katie, Lindsay & I went snowboarding!
Firstly- faff with the boots "hmmm... got any nine-and-a-half?..."
Much later!
All aboard the cable car & we're off up the mountain Aonach Mór (I think). It looks as rickety as cable-cars always do but of course it's deceptive & pretty soon we're at the ski range proper.
Is there any link between boarding and boating? Wouldn't have thought so but perhaps there's something cos we kayakers are getting it pretty well it seems (it's white water of a sort I guess...) and progressing from tottering along with one foot on the board to boarding properly on the larger dry (usually, not today) slope. Great fun- I think I'm addicted already!
Meet up with the others in the pub in Fort Will later, swap stories... They'd decided not to go walking on Ben Nevis (a sign at the bottom reads "abandon hope all ye...") but found an alternative, so a good time had by all it seems.
All descend on the pub in Roy Bridge later; there's a band, even the stuffed animals are wearing party hats. It gets a little hazy... but passes the "over in no time" test of a good night; it seems we've only just started when midnight comes & goes, the band & then the locals go home, & it's just us & a group of bikers. What to do? Feed the jukebox & start cracking the beers we brought with us of course!

1st January 2002
Tuesday is Garry Dam Release Day - so it was, is & ever shall be. After a day not paddling we're starting to twitch like addicts so all in the cars & awaaaayyy.
The stop for the get-on looks like nothing much, we have to squeeze round the side of a locked gate to get down to the river- & oddly there are no footprints in the snow here: we're the first here for a few days. A short walk & the plot thickens- here's the dam, where's the water? It's very clearly not releasing, not even a trickle!
Arse.
It seems we're the only ones not wise to this, no other paddlers around. It is Tuesday isn't it? It wouldn't stop for New Year's Day? Perhaps it starts at one o'clock not twelve? We head back to the village in search of answers.
At the petrol station they don't know. The tourist boards have nothing about a dam.
What to do? Drive back & do the Arkaig again? Go for a walk by Loch Ness? We've been in the hotel car park for a while now doing nothing very much & Lee's even been back to the river to check it hasn't started releasing & then the guidebook is consulted. & the line "the dam releases every Tuesday-" ok, "-between April and October".
Double-take.
What?
"Between April and October".
...
Now I'd hate to say nobody else would do something like this, but- nobody else had... decide for yourself!
...
So a walk by the Loch then? Okaaayy...
A shortish drive later, stop in Invermoriston, a pleasant village on the river Moriston by Loch Ness. The river's far too low to run (thank goodness for that, though I had some excuses ready...) but Lee points out one of the rapids- run it just here & you'll live; run it there... you don't want to run it there.
We wander aimlessly over a hillside behind the village, through a pine forest; the snow's still even here, only a few deer tracks. Till we came along. Higher we come to what's probably a road, though there're no car tracks on it. We interrupt the running snowball battle for the Snow Olympics! Events, well, the long jump (running & from standing), the "jump in the air, spin round 360 degrees before you land" game & the javelin (icicles). This serious business over, snowballs resume!
We find our way back to Invermoriston, through a farmer's field (though don't tell anyone about that...) & find the promised tea shop is closed. Not a good day for things being open!

2nd January 2002
"Outro"
Excellent week- so many thanks to our team of dedicated organisation staff- i.e. Katie!
But that's our lot- we're off home.
Fifteen hours in the car.
Less fun than it sounds.