A weekend of fun, facts and Parkour

Friday 15^th to Sunday 17^th Feb saw the annual Cardiff Uni Kayakers trip to Devon to try and run some of the English classics. However, the typical British weather failed us, as there was not enough rain beforehand to really give the rivers what they needed.

I drove my new car, who has been christened Matilda, down to Devon with Stu Sheath, Max Emery and Jonny King of Procrastinate. Having the day off on Friday meant we could get away early and grab a pub meal before the Uni lot turned up for another evening of drinking and games, hopefully similar to that detailed in our North Wales adventures. We managed to get away early because of Jonny King's new resolution to be more punctual. It seems to be working at the moment, so lets hope that it stays that way.

Matilda fully loaded

The drive down was traffic free and Matilda did her job well, getting us to the pub to meet Simon and Chris (a couple of the Uni Kayakers currently on placement). Although Matilda got us to our destination, is wasn't as simple as getting from A to B (there was a small amount of C, with a pinch of D thrown in for good measure). The four of us got slightly lost in Dartmoor itself; rumours do tell of pixes, headless horsemen and rabid dogs, but we all live in Cardiff which is descended upon weekly by much scarier creatures - Valleys folk. So none of us were fazed by the apparent danger we may or may not have been in. To be honest, I would much rather be attacked by a headless chump riding a horse than be out on a Saturday night in Walkabout and have a Valleys slag wrap her cellulite ridden legs around me, screeching in some incomprehensible Welsh tongue!

The food in the Pub in Widecombe was cracking and set us all up for a good evening. The six of us got to the bunkhouse and managed to get the fire going and have the place warming up by the time the Uni lot arrived. Then we all settled and had some beers and some laughs. I was back on the Gin and Juice, but didn't hit it as hard as I did in North Wales due to the fact that I needed to be able to drive the next day. There were a couple of drinking games played, and because we had no playing cards, therefore meaning that High Card Something Bad couldn't be enjoyed, we thought of another way of working it in. We played a game that is notorious with Cardiff University Kayakers, called The Grand Old Duke Of York. This is basically where you go round in a circle, and in order each person has to say the next word of the nursery rhyme. However to make things more exciting, if a person got the word wrong they had to do Something Bad. I can't relay details, as that is against the spirit of the game, but there were copious Bad Things done including a shot of alcohol from someones hairy belly-button (This was in no way one of the worst things, but it was a certain current President of the club that had to do the shot!!!).

Waking up Saturday morning I was feeling slightly hung over, but this was slept off before the club had the chance to get ready. A quick jump out of bed, a shower and into clothes, I was in Matilda ready to drive to the get on for the Dart Loop. Although the morning was cold, we kitted up and people were looking ready to take on the river. Because the Uni lot faff so much, it was easy for Jonny King to merge into the background and seem as though he was running at a good pace;

Jonny King; don't let his devilishly good looks fool you, he is truly clueless

The plethora of boats at the get on

The loop was fun, and our group managed it with style and grace. The afternoon run was the Upper Dart, but with very little water :-( It took about an hour to an hour and a half from getting off of the loop to starting the Upper section. Seeing as there were around 20 to 25 people, that is at least a whole day's worth of man hours wasted! Think of the achievements that could have been accomplished in that time. Jonny may have even been able to finish the latest novel he's been engrossed in within that time frame!!

The middle section of the run was a good laugh, but once again I messed up Surprise, Surprise (although my line apparently looked OK). The group behind us took a while to get down, and therefore Max, Stu, Jonny and I went to meet the people who didn't boat the Upper, at the River Dart Country Park, where they apparently had a wicked afternoon of Pirate Ships, Zip Wires and Climbing Frames.

With a little bit of fear that the group still on the river may not have finished before it was dark, we went back to check the score, only to find them pass us in the minibus half way there. So we headed back to the bunkhouse to prepare for the evening. This composed of a shower and a snooze. Unfortunately I seem to have arrived at a stage that a simple snooze didn't recharge the batteries, yet allowed them to drain completely. This meant that the dinner call was completely unwelcome, but I hauled myself out of bed, and after food was consumed it proved the right thing to do.

Saturday evening was when Lucie Parkinson, a soon to be doctor, stated as fact that any alcohol above 20% concentration is not absorbed by the body. She apparently was told that the body would absorb 20% alcohol and no more would enter the body (I'm finding her logic hard to re-explain due to its absurdity, but I will continue). This is clearly not what she was told, but what she thought she heard. I have found a link that gives the fact a lot more clearly and well explained. Essentially above 20-25% there is a potential delay of the alcohol to the Small Intestine, meaning that there is a clear delay of it being in the area of highest absorption rate. Lucie seemed to make the assumption that this meant any other alcohol was not absorbed. Dave Underhill put it to her that a person who drank a pint of 40% would therefore be at the same blood alcohol at the end of the night as a person who consumed a pint of 20%, which Lucie said would be the case, as the extra 20% that the first hypothetical person drank would not be absorbed... No Lucie, the theory states that it wouldn't absorb in the same amount of time, not that it isn't fully (or at least close to fully) absorbed. This is a scary world when Doctors think along these lines! This is enough of a rant on this subject, but I thought that it required a mention. 

The end of Saturday night saw some loud drinking games and at least three completed rounds of Grand Old Duke Of York. Clearly the small contingent of people left on the Saturday night/Sunday morning were nurtured as kids, and were taught the words of many a nursery rhyme.

On Sunday we went for a walk in Dartmoor, which was rad. About two and a half hours of easy walking, nice scenery and climbing tors was a pleasant way to spend a day that couldn't provide any kayaking.  The wind was absolutely ragging it, making standing on top of the Tors a more nerving experience. Myself, Blake May and Huw Beckett (two new lads to Cardiff Uni Kayakers) Parkour'd our way around the Tor's of the moors, with numerous flips, rolls and 360 spins (although the photo's don't do it justice, there were some dope-whack moves pulled out):

On top of a Tor

Huw, poo-kour'ing in a hide away.

Blake mid parkour move

Blake and Huw having back-flipped onto the top of a Tor

Seeing the scale of it makes the move more impressive!

Some pleasant Devonshire scenery

Getting back to Cardiff at around 1700 on Sunday evening led to a crash of energy and a bedtime of 2100. Sad I know, but much needed.

Cheeky Time Lapse of the start of Friday night

Till next time...

North Wales: a weekend of drink, high cards and things that are bad

Once again it is Blogging time. This weekend saw Cardiff Uni Kayakers annual trip to North Wales, and by Jove was it a good'un. There are other blogs on this weekend, from CUK's treasurer Rowan Phillips as well as Procrastinate's Fran Smith. Each has its own tale of the weekend, and now it is time for Stuff The Consequences' Rob Haley to spin some beautiful words about the event, at least what can be remembered.

Friday saw the start of it all. Lucie P, well know by her nickname "The Puddler", had previously offered to give Myself, Stu "Baby Swan" Sheath and Jonny "Faff Central" King a lift in her car. The idea was to meet at Team House (which is where Stu lives) and then pack boats and kit into/onto the car. However Jonny had once again managed to get this wrong, and both Stu and I were back from work and ready before he had any chance for his brain to engage to the situation. Unfortunately simple acts that you and I take for granted (such as moving and breathing) engage too much of Jonny's brain rendering him useless for any situation that requires thought processing.

The Loaded Car

Anyway, we eventually got onto the A470, although there was a little bit of traffic now as Jonny's time had made us late.

To justify some of the actions that may or may not be explained in this blog post, I have to ensure that those reading this know I had not had an alcoholic beverage for at least two months prior to this trip, and Jonny, Stu and I were planning on drinking on our way up. Stu had prepared for this by purchasing a litre bottle of Southern Comfort. I need to state that Jonny also contributed, but as it was Tesco Value lemonade, you can clearly see that it wasn't much of a contribution. We eventually hit Brecon, and this was the time of the journey we agreed drinking was acceptable, so we started.

Somehow the Southern Comfort and Lemonade went down very quickly, and a stop was needed, both for voiding bladders and more alcohol to be obtained. I am not one for mixing my drinks, as that sort of thing leads to a case of the crazies, such as Britney Spears, so I went and bought another 75cl of Southern Comfort from a Spar. This also seemed to go down quickly, and led to some adverse affects. Now I do remember that we for some reason got topless, but apparently there was more. However, if you can't remember it didn't happen; that's what I say. What I do remember is that we were singing better than any X-Factor contestant could dream, and that our flexing muscles were distracting Lucie beyond belief, as you may be able to see below.

Pure Manliness

I don't remember taking this photo, but I can only assume it was very distracting for the driver, and I apologise for it. So clearly I can't really tell you much more about the journey, as I just don't remember. However I do remember getting to the Bunkhouse and seeing Fran Smith's and Simon Hutt's cars parked up. So we ran in, still topless, as getting dressed to go inside does seem senseless. Like, the more I think of it, the more sensible it seems. The only reason to get dressed is to go outside. Therefore if you happen to be slightly undressed, then re-dressing to go inside would be crazy.

On entering the Bunkhouse, something told me to flex, which I can only imagine was embarrassing to watch. The club turned up very soon after us, and people started drinking. At least I imagine they did, because the nights events sounded as though they went fairly wild. Bits of Friday evening have come back to me, and waking up on the Saturday (feeling worse for wear, but I will come to this) I thought that I hadn't made too much of a fool of myself. These are the bits I remember:

• There was a game of "I have never", but I don't remember starting it, and all I can recall was telling people about an episode of Fran Smith's life. It won't be re-told here, as things have to stay in a bunkhouse, but if you know him, you can image some of the things that may have been said.

And that's it, that's all I remember. I thought I had stopped drinking, but apparently the Gin and Juice that I had purchased for the Saturday evening was consumed Friday also. Gin and Juice you ask, well apparently Usain Bolt is the best person to talk to about these things, or Snoop Dogg. And the best thing about Gin and Juice is that it is 50% juice, so it cannot be bad for you! The other blogs mentioned at the start add to this, but nothing has really been revealed. One can assume 1 of 2 things, either the events that transpired were not worth blogging about, or that they were too wild to publish on the internet. I would hope the former, but suspect the latter.

So Saturday morning arrived, and I was feeling bad. I had no energy to get out of bed, and the taste in my mouth was something else. It was as though I had allowed a piece of bread to go moldy overnight, whilst it sat on my tounge! I got downstairs to a few bright eyed faces, and this didn't help. Isn't it crappy seeing other people feeling great when you're not. Some details of the previous evening were regaled to me, one of which was that a game that was invented by myself and James Grant, of I'm Not Injured fame, was played. This game is know as "High Card Something Bad", and was essentially designed to get people doing silly things. On hearing this, I was annoyed that I missed out, as I had gone to bed early. But apparently this wasn't the case, it just happened that it did not form part of my memories. Unfortunately, as in "I have never", the events in "High Card Something Bad" cannot be broadcast, but from what I was told there were some dirty things going down.

So the boating! We went to look at the Conwy, and it was low. Or high, i'm not sure, I was told different things. But we didn't get on, and went to run the Llugwy. I was not feeling good on the drive to the Conwy, but as it was short it was OK. The Llugwy drive nearly took its toll, but I managed to keep my food (or whatever was actually in my stomach) down. I was impressed as I hadn't thrown up till this point. Well at least I didn't think I had, but again I will come to that.

I was grouped with Will Bevan again. The caped crusaders were once again to take a group of scared freshers down some gnarly runs.

Will Bevan

Will pointed out that I always take photo's of him changing. Looking back through them, he is correct. Seems weird that he remembers things like that! Alongside this photo, I was doing some modelling shots of Stu and Rowan with my sexy DSLR:

 Naomi Campbell - eat your heart out

Fran's creepy eyes

I like this photo above, it seems really off putting. 

So Will and I got our group. Luckily it looked as though the group was fairly strong. This was a severe benefit, as I was not up for saving anybody.

The Group 

Blake running a drop

The river was good, and the lads seriously improved. So we went to go look at an intermediate river. This journey was a lot longer in the car. I was feeling poorly to say the least, and to mitigate against any problems I reached for a Cardiff recycling bag, so that if my stomach did decide to emit its contents, I would have something to catch the fallout with. However, when I saw the bag in front of me, my brain clearly thought this was acceptance of the inevitable egestion through my mouth. I was trying badly to ask Lucie to pull over, by every fiber in my body knew that if I tried to talk I would vomit. I took my time, and eventually managed to get the words out, "Can we pull over?". Stu looked at me and could tell this wasn't good. Then the bag came in useful. For some reason I brought it to my face, and coughed. Puke was all over my mouth and chin. RANK. I didn't want or expect this. However I pulled the bag away and managed to keep everything from the car. Lucie pulled over, and I got out. Stu, smiling a big grin, got out my camera and proceeded to record me in my time of peril:

Not my greatest moment

Anyways, the river we went to look at was too low, and this meant the drive, and therefore the vomiting, was unnecessary.

So we went back to the Conwy, and on this drive I closed my eyes and tried to sleep, which definitely helped. I had sort of forgotten how good the Conwy was, and had a cracking time, both Ben and Blake in mine and Will's group rocked it. There was one moment where Blake swam and had the boat pinned in the middle of the river, so I had to stand in the water for a while. But I do enjoy that sort of thing, even though it was cold as! Everybody seemed to have a good laugh, and was probably the hardest thing some of them had done, so that's cool.

Then it was to the pub for a quick sit in the warmth before heading back to the bunkhouse for a snooze. Duncan had not stayed with us the previous evening, and drove up Saturday morning. So him and Fran joined me in the area I slept. As Duncan was getting ready for his little nap, he pointed to something on the floor.

"What's that?

"Paint?"

I had a cheeky peek, and my heart sank a little. "So that's why my mouth tasted of sick this morning!"

This explains a bit. Apparently I was ill the night before, and somehow was clever enough to move position, and therefore did not realise till Duncan saw it. So my nap was postponed whilst I cleared up my own mess. Yer, that's right. I had to wipe up my stinking vomit, which had had the fortune of fermenting on the floor for the whole day and had become dry and paste-like. I'm sure if my mother reads this she will be thinking that I very much deserve it. Luckily I am faster than Kim Woodburn and Aggie MacKenzie when it comes to clearing shit up, so it wasn't long till I was in a nice little dreamworld.

When dinner was ready, we reluctantly walked to the kitchen. The reluctancy was due to the cold, not the thought of club food, and seeing as the food was proper nice, it was worth it. I had a beer, but this wasn't sitting very well, so couldn't cope much more. Probably for the best that the Gin and Juice was long gone. This evening seemed tamer than the previous, although there was a relatively savage game of spoons. I went to bed before people started getting rowdy, and apparently there was another game of High Card Something Bad.

Sunday saw the River Dee, which is fairly standard, and probably the reason why it was so packed with kayakers. Our car, as well as the other Safeties stopped for a morning bacon bap at a place called The Tollgate, which was run by an elderly couple, and was wicked. I had a killer Bacon and Sausage Bap that really hit the spot. This was a cracking idea, and reminded me that stopping before a river for breakfast is a seriously good plan.

The Tollgate

The temperature was as cold as the hairs on a polar bear's bum. My BA was frozen, and thermals were cold as ice. This was not helping moral, and people were not looking happy. Which, to be fair, made me slightly happier. Odd feet warming rituals were going on:

Not just making his shoes hot, but the ladies were following suit

 However it looks like it worked

So we did some sliding down the hill, and due to the frost on the ground, there was some serious speed to be had.

Will on the sliding decent

As far as the river goes, the boating was good and people seemed to be hitting lines and having a good day once warmed up. Jonny King however was being as much of a muppet as expected, and managed to be leading his group down Town Falls, lost his paddle whilst upside down and had to handroll up. This left him at the bottom and his group at the top. For this he did a bootie:

Just a Chump

There's not much more to say really, it was a good weekend, and re-instilled why I have given up alcohol. Maybe I should be more embarrassed than I feel, but it seems that I was just as hilarious as I expect myself to be.

Till next time y'all, which should hopefully be about a River Dart trip that I am going on with the Procrastinate Boaters.