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The Rio Irues in the Spanish Pyrenees was the plan for the day. Other rivers were high and the guidebook described it as having a “feeble” catchment area and a “chance” of paddling it during the May thaw. Undeterred by the 5km walk we shouldered our boats and headed up the bony narrow track out of the village. One hour later we arrived sweating and tired at the confluence and inspected the first rapid from the footbridge. There was no chance of a warm up, it was straight into the action. Adam, as usual made the rapid look too easy and Mike and myself peeled out of the Eddie and headed downstream. After 300m of read and run we came to a steep horizon, a funky looking rapid and being 5km from help lead us to portage. Now out of our boats we could see a bigger horizon, we scrambled along the wet rock down stream and it was clear that this was the portage. The river drops 4m into a narrowing, undercut cauldron on the right and the left fed right into a siphon, it was a scary feeling being so close to something that with one slip of the foot you would be swept in, and had no chance of surviving. The options were bleak, both sides of the river were steep, wet and loose and with no path. The left would be a shorter portage over the crumbling, unstable rock, with no protection and a small mistake would be costly. We were on the left bank, and from what we could see was not much better, steep grassy ledged clung to the rock that fell away down into the surging Eddie below. However this side had trees and a way to anchor ourselves and the boats onto the bank. After 15 minutes Adam and I trudged back up to Mike to tell him the news. I said that I was happy to set up a traverse line around the drop into a wooded area but what lay after that I was unsure of. We carried, dragged and floated the boats down past the first portage and to the top of the second. After a last look as to where I was heading, I tightened my BA, threaded the harness through the stitch plate, did a few pre flight checks and was ready.
I edged out along the steep, unstable bank to the first tree, quickly I tied the end of the line round it. Using a figure of 8 I belayed myself out, knowing that one slip would pendulum me down into the water below. My next step was onto grass, I was aiming for a smaller tree that would be the midway protection point. Within seconds the sling, crab and line were joined together, breathing out I focused on the last section, a grassy ledge a foot wide and a loose rock band at chest height. Stepping out the rock made me feel off balance, I scrambed to find a good hand hold, I was becoming more aware of my precarious position, once again poised ready for a long swing as I was 10m away from the last gear. I shook my head and imagined that I was on a crag and tom was belaying me, next thing I was throwing a sling round a solid oak tree. A let out a sigh of relief, things were just getting started. What was now set up was a Via Feretta style safety line that people and boats could be clipped to and used as a hand line to prevent any falls if the ground gave way or someone lost their footing. Happy with the set up I changed the figure of 8 for a cowstail, traversed back across to brief Adam and Mike about the line and the plan so far. It dawned on me that I was now responsible for two peoples lives, this was not going to be a straighfoward portage and the physical and mental challenge of what had only started weighed heavily on my mind. I was confident in my ability and trusted my judgement so I pushed the anxieties to another place and focused on the task ahead.
I clipped my kayak onto the line and with Mike started the traverse across the line. “I hope you know your rope work” said Mike nervously as he held on. It was difficult to stay balanced and move the suspended kayak along, once at the other side I told Mike to set up another safety line to clip himself, boats and paddles to. Back along the line I went to collect another boat from Adam. It was so hot, the trees provided a little shade but the sun beat down on us, a nagging thirst kept creeping over me, we had a limited water supply in the boats but didn’t want to gulp it all down. This was hard work.
I was half way through hauling the second boat, just past the midway gear point when the loose ground collapsed around me. I fell down, things were happening fast, my harness came tight and the rope stretched under the tension, eventually my feet hit a grassy ledge. In a semi state of shock I stared up at Adam in disbelief, what I had predicted had happened, the line had worked. The kayak and myself were now 6ft below the traverse line. I thought to myself “I don’t want to be kayaker anymore” “I wish I found XBOX interesting.” From my new position I had a quick word with myself, “Come on J, lets get this done.” This was my show and I was the ringleader. We had got ourselves into this adventure and only us could be responsible for getting ourselves out. With this new boost of confidence and a sense of urgency I shouted to Adam to grab the boat and I climbed back up to the ledge to take it to Mike. Two boats down one to go so back out along the line I went. This time everything went OK and we were all soon regrouped on a steep bank of loose mud, dead leafs and fallen trees. A quick scout revelled that a slippy route lead down to a small ledge 1 meter above the river. “Right I think were about halfway through the portage, only another traverse line and an abseil to go.” I shouted up the guys. Tired looks of disbelief and despair were exchanged. “Come on it will only take 30 minutes”. I lied.
One hour into the portage we now had a solid plan and a place to aim for. We all worked together hauling and moving the boats about, after another hand line we were all above the ledge. A solid tree provided another bomber anchor and a abseil line was set up to move us and the boats individually onto the small ledge. Mike was first on, Adam held him in place as straps were tightened and his deck snapped on to his boat. He lunged forward and dropped down into the flow, a stopped grabbed him and after quick surf and a smile Mike was in the Eddie below. 2 hours after we had climbed out of our boats, we were now slowly climbing back in. I steadied Adam and off he went. I was now by myself, never have I felt so alone whilst kayaking. Up the rock I climbed to grab my kayak and paddle, descending the rope to the ledge, I was aware that every move had to delicate and calculated. The boat was on the rock and my paddle wedged at the side. Everything was set up, all I had to do was climb into my kayak. Looking back upstream, we had only covered 150 meters in just over 2 hours, but Mike and Adam were safe and back on the water without injury, I just had to get of this lonely perch. In the boat, on with the deck and paddle in hand, I said goodbye to my throwline, it had served us well today and it was set to retire on the banks of the Irues. I lunged forward, braced and was back in the flow. I Eddied out where Adam and boats were waiting; happy to have that behind me I got out to look at the next section. Mike came over the rocks with my throwline in his hand, throwing it at me he said, “you pack it,”
It wasn’t until laying on a half inflated airbed that I could think about what had happened during the day. There had been so many obstacles to overcome and issues to deal with. Reflecting, I was happy with every element of the day. Its only when you face inescapable stress and pressure that you realise what sort of person you are. I will remember this day and use it as a benchmark and reference to what I can achieve. I will never find XBOX interesting, as it will never expose you to fear, joy, adventure, friends and locations. I love kayaking.
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