A Gorge Too Far

 

With loaded ambition of it being a sunny day and perhaps warm, we drove in to Vallon Pont d’ Arc, made up a baguette full of tuna with salad and then checked in at Aigue Vive for the experience of a lifetime.  We were told that the Ardèche River at Vallon is the most popular river for kayaking in France, apparently in the summer it is packed with boats and seeing the number of rental places in town we could well believe it.  Putting our pink kayak (yes, pink!!!) in the river was our first introduction to how cold the water was, we were cheerfully informed it was about 10°C and it sure felt like it.  We were very glad to have been kitted out with short wetsuits.

 

 

We paddled off down the fairly fast flowing river marvelling at the incredible cliff faces above us; it made you feel very small and isolated.  We were advised that the 24kms through the Gorges de l’ Ardèche would probably take us about 4.5 hours, and were told that our pick-up would be between 4pm and 4:30pm; “don’t be late”.  By setting off on our expedition at 9:30am, it would give us plenty of time for rest stops, photo stops and a lunch break.  Ah, if only we had known what was ahead of us; the brochure said this ‘would be the most exciting way to discover the gorge”.  We should have noted that word ‘exciting’, it didn’t say ‘relaxing’…..

 

 

During the morning we managed to negotiate a few class 1 and class 2 rapids and were feeling fairly confident.  Rodney is not the ‘straightest’ kayaker, so there was a fair bit of zig-zagging and some accidental 360° degree turns going on; even after some instruction from me he still failed to improve his technique.

 

 

 

By the time we stopped for lunch we were feeling quite tired and needed a break; trouble was, we were only half way.  Immediately after lunch, little did we know, the trickiest rapid was coming up, La Toupine de Gournier.  It was a two-stage rapid and we managed to get through the first section, but the next part proved much trickier.  The river narrowed to a faster flow and then turned sharply to the right, deflected by a large rock.  We tried to keep the boat well over to the right but got pushed straight at the rock, which we hit side on and were thrown out in to the raging torrent.  Rodney managed to grab the kayak and hang onto his paddle.  I got sucked under the rock and, in trying to resurface, came up under the rock and bashed my head on it, still underwater.  As experiences go, it was completely overwhelming.  Apart from feeling like a sock in a washing machine, I felt completely helpless.  There was fear and panic, but also an extreme feeling of sadness and a sense of resignation.  I will admit to saying my goodbyes while under the water, even to the point of thinking it was at least quite a pretty place to die!    I’ll also admit to being incredibly relieved to finally work out which way was up and find air.  I could see Rodney was way down the river by now and I heard him shout “you’re okay”, which somehow really helped me and I managed to pull my freezing, shaking body out on to a crevice and pull myself higher up on the bank. Fortunately my crocs had stayed on my feet, despite all that kicking. Rodney was now heading for the next rapid whilst hanging on to the kayak and both paddles and was trying to reach a beach on the opposite bank.  Unfortunately the cold, the fatigue and the strength of the current were proving a bit too much.  Luckily for us, a couple in a kayak ahead of us, had suffered the same fate and were already sitting on the beach that Rodney was trying to get to.  The man swam out and grabbed on to the kayak, therefore preventing Rodney drifting through the next rapid.  Meanwhile I tried to walk towards them on the rough ground on the ‘wrong’ side of the river, but then realised that I didn’t want to chance trying to swim across to them, right above that next rapid, so I walked back to the ‘horror’ rock where the river was narrower.  Rodney and the French man walked back along the opposite bank towards me and called out to me to swim over and aim for the beach where they would wait for me.  This was obviously the only way I was going to get over to them.  The terror of having to get back in the freezing water, when I was already shivering so badly, was hard to embrace, but I managed to do it and kicked liked crazy, partly to make sure I made it, but also to try and warm my body.   The river pulled me toward the next rapid, despite trying to swim straight across, but Rodney managed to paddle out and drag me on to the beach. I was very relieved to find that he had managed to rescue both paddles and that the barrel, containing our camera and dry clothes, was still attached to our kayak.  We thanked the French couple very much and after a few minutes of tears and hugs, we thought it best to get back in ‘the saddle’ and warm up by paddling on further, rather than sit down and stiffen up.

 

 

Amazingly the next day we observed from high up on the viewpoint, two kayakers negotiating the same rapid and alas we watched one come to grief, just as we had done the day before!!!

 

 

We managed to get through the next rapid, but I had completely lost my nerve and we were both so cold and tired that we got out and dragged the kayak through three of the larger rapids during the afternoon.  That in itself was a bit of an effort with the rocks being so slippery and resulted in Rodney adding a bruised and cut right knee to his already painful left ankle.   To add to our woes, the wind increased making it harder to control the kayak, even on the smooth sections of water.  On the very last section, coming out of the gorge, we actually gave up paddling as the wind was funnelling so strongly that we just drifted sideways on the current, hoping it wouldn’t blow us over.  I don’t remember much of the journey, apart from crying and shaking a lot, but I do remember the relief when we realised we had reached the final destination near Sauze.

 

 

At 3:30pm, after dragging the kayak up on to the concrete and opening up the barrel, we were outstandingly relieved to find that our clothes and camera were still completely dry inside the barrel.  It really helped to get out of the wetsuits and into something warmer, but the cold wind still kept me shivering.  Our pick-up arrived 40 minutes later, so we dived in to the van, only then to be told that we had to wait longer for another couple to arrive.  I’ll admit to being furious when they didn’t arrive until 5:10pm and we didn’t get on the road until nearly 5:30pm. When we finally got back to Eileen around 6:30pm I piled on as many clothes as I could find, in an effort to stop my body shaking, which it did eventually.  That evening we opted for a quick meal after a hot shower and dived in to bed as early as we could.  Nightmares woke me up a few times, but we did both sleep really heavily and now just feel like we’ve been through a washing machine, with our bodies telling us that we’re way too old for such ‘an experience of a lifetime’.

We all survived, including Piglet, who travelled the whole way inside the barrel, and as the brochure says, we certainly did ‘discover the natural reserve of the Gorges de l’ Ardèche’ from inside, outside, under and over.  However, my kayak in Sydney may be up for sale when I get back, or maybe I should simply stay away from rapids……