White water rafting

Having been herded out of the backpacking place, we set off for white water rafting. Alex and Mark R were blatantly still under the influence of the previous evening's alcohol consumption and gave a splendidly vocal rendition of various sing-a-long tunes in the back of the car, including Black Beauty, The Camptown Ladies and Good King Wenceslas.

The previous week we had agreed that cp13 would send a contingent to paddle down a river with the rest of the courses. What we didn't know at the time was that this particular river was a grade 5, of 5 grades, therefore highly dangerous and not really for beginners. The level of experience in our group was extensive - James G had once waved at someone in a canoe in Australia and we all knew what a boat looked like. Oooer. Everyone was expecting to leave with something broken, or at least not quite functioning correctly.

Following getting fully kitted up in a random field and having had instruction (we now knew how to paddle forwards and backwards, as well as who/what/when to grab at the command 'hold on') we set off down the river. Our instructer type filled us with confidence as he chuckled intensely and told us of the morning's run where he had almost drowned a busload of Japanese tourists.

It was a cross between River Wild and Deliverence, the only things missing were Burt Reynolds and an inbreed with a banjo on a bridge, although CS did try to make up for that.

Various rapids and waterfalls were encountered, we held on, we squealed (Alex), we paddled, we got wet, we got stuck, we lost the instructer, we almost flipped, we lost paddles, we gained many bruises and generally had a marvellous time.

Marvellous that was until we saw the wolves on the river banks following us.