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The Drowned Rats of Ravenstonedale

It was to be the Lune, from the Crook of Lune to Sedbergh, so up with the larks to make butties and get kit sorted. Well, larks really weren't the birds that sprang to mind - penguins. It had snowed and was quite breezy. Anyway, boats and butties organised, off to meet up in Bowes for 9 o'clock.

Eight of us in two cars headed into the sunset, well in that direction anyway. There wasn't a lot of slush or snow on the road, it had all been blown away. The puddles had white horses as a southerly gale screamed across the A66.

Heading down the road from Brough towards Tebay, there is a long downhill section which is very exposed. It was at this point the wind started to take the roof rack off Claire's car. Stopping in a lay-by to sort it out, we braved the elements, which now included heavy rain. The rain was nicely clearing the snow off the fields, and water was running across the grass. I think that each of us was starting to question what we were doing out in the conditions. Looking for shelter, we made for the nearest village, Ravenstonedale, where we got boats and roof racks sorted. Phil summed it up with "I don't get this wet when I get on the water".

A motley crew sat, talking of paddling in the Alps, sea paddling in Greece and Croatia, well, paddling anywhere it was warm and sunny, in the local hotel drinking coffee. Two in rather fetching furry suits, one in a silly blue hat, one in a soggy Australian stockman hat (they don't have rain like this in Oz mate!), all wet and dripping. No wonder they kept us away from everyone else. Given all the water, it was not surprising that the enthusiasm dissolved - we saw sense and went home!

One surprise was left. Thinking that the Swale would be spectacular (to watch) given the conditions, Wendy and I returned via Swaledale, only to find that there was hardly enough water to paddle. How strange.

Pete Bridgstock

Last Modified: 7 May, 2003