I bought my Sevylor Ranger months ago, but hadn’t been able to take it out because I’d knackered the tendons in my feet and couldn’t walk. Real progress over the last few weeks meant that finally today I could give it a go. I talked my friend Tom into coming along. He’d never been on one of my trips before, so didn’t know what to expect. I think he thought it would be fun.
We put into the Welland on Stamford meadows, amid laughter from onlookers. It took around 5-10 mins to inflate the Ranger and get it afloat in clear skies and sunshine. The river was flowing nicely, and we barely needed to paddle at all. Seeing Stamford from the river for the first time was fantastic, as we cruised past the old stone buildings, imagining the waterway in Medieval times, when there was a thriving wool trade and loads of alchemists.
We portaged the big weir to the south of the town (photo) and stopped for a bit of lunch. Pretty soon we hit our first white water. I use the term extremely loosely. It was genuinely scary, but we made it through OK. Just a few minutes later however, we hit more white water and got stuck on a rock and pulled broadside to the current. I jumped out and pulled us clear, but it turned out that we’d ripped the polyester hull. If it hadn’t been there, that probably would have been the end of the trip, but the hull saved our inflatability nicely.
The following stretch was probably my favourite. We saw a heron and three kingfishers, and I may have seen a water vole, although at one point I was convinced an otter was swimming alongside us, and it turned out to be a log.
A torrent of hail was then unleashed upon us. It lashed into the water around us, and bit any exposed flesh. The journey was still enjoyable at this point, but soon a serious storm blew up, and we were assailed by hail, sleet and rain, with an icy wind thrown in for good measure. At this point one of the self-bailing plugs came open and soon we were sitting in cold water. We were also pretty lost. Suddenly a horrific stretch of white water came into view. We were fairly shot at this point and only just noticed it in time. Luckily we made it to the bank, but once we climbed up to the top, the wind was excessively cruel on our wet bodies. We did however spot a church steeple from the top of the bank, so Tom ran off to see where we were (photo).
After draining the boat and stoppering the plug, we carried along for a while until we got stuck again. I hopped out again, but got sucked into the mud and had to really wrestle to pull my feet free. A little while later we came to a bridge (photo). At this point Tom decided he’d had enough and would walk to the car from there, even though we had no idea where it was. Another minor miracle when we climbed up the bank and realised the car was just on the other side of the railway track. If Tom’s spider-sense hadn’t stopped us there, we would probably have been killed in more rapids.
It was sad to see the rip in my pretty Ranger, but I’m sure it can be fixed fairly easily. All in all a fun trip, and just what I’ve been missing whilst cooped up indoors for months with knackered feet. Bring on the next trip!