Report on White Water trip to French Alps
June/July 2010

Roy Doherty

I have just returned from a week’s white water paddling in the French Alps, and I would thoroughly recommend it for anyone who wants to improve their river paddling skills, or who just wants to have a good time and enjoy some fantastic scenery.

Having tried unsuccessfully to get enough people in the club together to organise a BKC trip, I decided to tag on to a trip being organised by Tollymore. For a fee of about £560 They would transport boats and equipment by road and provide two experienced guides. The paddlers then had to book their own flights to France and pay for food and accommodation. We managed to get cheap flights with Ryan Air and Aer Lingus, and we decided to camp, which cost only 40 euros or so for the week.

Most of you will know Oisin Hallisey from Tollymore and Ashley Hunter, the CANI Development Officer; they were our guides for the week. Both of them have paddled in the Alps many times, and Oisin in particular knows the alpine rivers like the back of his hand. Having an experienced guide is a must for this sort of trip. There are a wide range of rivers, ranging from easy grade 2 all the way up to grade 5+. The difficulty of each stretch of river obviously depends on the water levels at the time, and this is where local knowledge is important. You need to know where the more demanding stretches are, which need to be scouted, and which are better portaged. We were all happy to avail of Oisin’s seemingly limitless knowledge of the region.

There were nine people on the trip, including Oisin and Ashley. Myself and Will Brown were the only BKC representatives; the remainder were Catriona Woods, Vix Crawford, Laurence Denham, Wilson Harte and Graeme Larmour. It had been decided in advance that we would aim to paddle at grade 3, with perhaps a little bit of grade 4. This seemed to suit the abilities of most people in the group, only two of whom had any previous experience of alpine paddling. For some it was a bit more of a challenge that for others but, all in all, I think everyone was satisfied with the paddling we did. I have to take my hat off to Will here. He had little or no white water paddling experience under his belt, and I must admit that I was slightly worried at the outset that he would struggle. However, he took to it like a duck to water, and by the end of the week was paddling as well as most others in the group, myself included. Will also gained massive brownie points within the group when we learned that he spoke very good French, and he became our official translator for the week.

A few days before departure we dropped our boats and gear, including tents etc , down to Tollymore. Those of us who were flying would only need to take hand baggage, which was very convenient. Oisin and Ashley loaded everything into a minibus and trailer and set off on the long drive through England and across France. They met the rest of us at Grenoble airport, two days later, and drove us to our base for the week, which was in a small town called Guillestre, near Briancon. It was about a three hour drive from Grenoble and involved some spectacular winding climbs up through the mountain passes. The scenery was absolutely stunning, but probably not for those who suffer from vertigo, as some of the roads were very narrow, with an almost vertical drop of several hundred feet on one side. Most of the most dangerous spots were protected by crash barriers, but I wouldn’t like to test their strength in a fully laden mini bus and trailer!

We arrived at the campsite and set up our tents on a narrow strip of ground next to a narrow, rocky, fast-flowing river. The noise from this river was our constant companion throughout the week, and I must admit that I found it hard to sleep the first night. Eventually we got used to it, however.

It was very hot and sunny during the day, while we were there,; but most nights we had thunderstorms and heavy rain. Oisin, and others who had been there before, said that they had never experienced so much rain on previous trips. However, as it was confined to night time, it didn’t bother us too much, and during the day it was usually scorching hot, with sun screen being used by the gallon. This was a pleasant change from my experience of white water paddling at home, which is usually a winter activity, and involves feeling wet, cold and miserable for long periods. After all those times when I had to try to change out of my paddling gear while sheltering from the bitter rain and wind, it was great to be able to step off the river and dry out in the sun within minutes. I think this is an experience which every paddler should enjoy at least once in their lives.

The first day’s paddling was a fairly gentle introduction on the Lower Durance, from St Clements to Rebioux. This is a wide, high volume river, rated at grade 3-, culminating in a massive wave at Rebioux, which is next to a popular camping and watersports centre. The wave looks very intimidating but is actually good fun to run, with numerous spectators looking on from the bank. We carried the boats back upstream to run it a couple of times, before calling it quits for the day. We then sat for a while and watched some people come down in rafts and “hot dogs” (small 2-man rafts). There were a few capsizes, accompanied by cheers from the onlookers.

You are probably wondering how we managed to do a shuttle, with only one vehicle. Oisin had brought a bicycle with him which we would chain up at the get-out each day, before driving to the put-in. At the end of the paddle Oisin would then cycle back for the mini-bus while the rest of us relaxed in the sun. I have to say that I think Oisin drew the short straw on that one.

At the end of the day we retired to “Chez Antoinne”, the restaurant in Guillestre, which was to be our regular haunt for the rest of the week. The staff were very friendly and our meals were often enlivened by the presence of a very large and boisterous “dog” which the owners informed us was actually a pure bred wolf!

On day two we paddled the Lower Guil which is also grade 3-. As with all the paddles we did, the scenery was breathtaking. The highest peaks of the alps towered over us, many still with snow on their summits. The sky was clear and blue and the water was so clean, you could probably drink it (try that on the Bann!). Towards the end of the paddle, the Guil joined the Durance and the get-out was where we had put in on the previous day. Just before the get-out there was a rather challenging section laid out as a slalom course, with several big, intimidating wave trains. We ran it and then carried the boats back up a path on the left bank, to run it again. We paired up, so that each person could look out for their “buddy”, in case anyone got into trouble. I was paired with Will and we set off, with him in front of me. I caught an eddy and stopped to take some photographs. When I set off again I didn’t see Will anywhere, so I thought that he had paddled on to the finish. However, when I got there, everyone asked me where Will was. It turned out that he had been sitting in an eddy, waiting for someone to paddle down with, and I had paddled past without spotting him. I guess I’m not a particularly good buddy. Sorry Will!

Day 3 was the Durance again, and a fairly short paddle ending at another slalom course. This one was much bigger than the previous one and was actually a proper training site for competitive slalom paddlers. There were loads of paddlers there, some of whom were practicing rescue techniques. One person would jump in upstream and someone would paddle after them. The swimmer would then climb on the back deck of the rescuers boat, and be paddled to the nearest eddy. We did some swimming and rope rescue practice ourselves, which was good fun. We had lunch on the bank and then ran the course a final time, before paddling on downstream to the get out at Roche De Rame. All in all, a great day’s paddling.

On the fourth day we paddled the Guisan from Le Casset to Chantermerie. The banks were lined with trees most of the way down, which was a contrast to the much more open areas we had paddled through on previous days. It was basically mile after mile of great technical white water paddling, with lots of opportunities for eddy hopping. Not too challenging, but just fantastic fun. One of the biggest differences between alpine paddling and white water paddling at home is the length of the rapids. At home, a good run might last for a hundred meters, if you are lucky, followed by a boring flat water section before the next interesting bit. In the alps the rapids seemingly go on for ever. There is no such thing as a flat section. The sheer volume and speed of the water is another thing which takes you by surprise. Trying to catch a wave is much more difficult and it is easy to misjudge your angles when ferry gliding, causing you to be swept further downstream than you intended. After a day or two you get used to it however, and things start to feel natural again. It is certainly a great way to hone your skills and improve your technique, as mistakes tend to get punished much more than would be the case on most rivers back home.

We had a nasty incident on the drive back to the campsite. Some of the boats were strapped to the roof of the minibus and others were on top of the trailer. As we were driving downhill through a small town the boats on the trailer came loose (the vibrations must have caused the straps to move) and two boats fell off onto the road. Ashley slammed on the brakes and a third boat, which hadn’t yet fallen off, shot forward and crashed through the rear window of the mini-bus, coming to rest about 12 inches from the back of my head. Luckily, neither of the boats which fell off were damaged and obviously it was a relief that there was no traffic coming the other way at the time.

Day 5 was the upper Guil. This turned out to be the most demanding and dramatic paddle of the trip. The river was very steep, rocky and fast-flowing; and sections of it were through gorges. We had to scout out several sections, which was difficult because the banks were rough and strewn with large angular boulders and other debris , making it extremely difficult to pick your way along them. We portaged one section, and the walking was even more difficult, with a boat on your shoulder. Whilst we were scouting out one particularly difficult area, we were passed by another group of paddlers who turned out to be from our neck of the woods. One of them was Deane Dawson, who some of you may know. They stopped for a brief chat, before paddling on, and Deane informed us about Greg’s mishap with his sea boat. Bad news travels fast, it seems; even across continents!

The most difficult part of this paddle was a steep sweeping bend through a rocky gorge with several large boulders in mid-stream, and only a couple of small and difficult eddies to catch. Oisin positioned himself in an eddy at the bend, and gave the signal for each paddler to come down, one after the other. Laurence, one of the paddlers with several previous alpine trips under his belt, went first and found an eddy a little upstream from Oisin. I went next, aiming for the eddy next to Laurence. I reached the eddy without incident, and was just about to congratulate myself when I relaxed a little too early and got swept out of the back. I clipped a rock and, before I knew it, I was upside down and getting my head bounced off the bottom. I quickly rolled up, but before I could get my bearings I hit another rock and capsized again. By this time I was well downstream and round the bend, out of view of most of the others. Once again, my head was taking a battering and I took a very hard blow on my left shoulder (which left a large and painful bruise). I almost had my paddle ripped from my hands, but I managed to hang on and rolled up again. Thankfully this time I was able to find an eddy, much to the relief of Oisin who had paddled after me, probably expecting to have to perform a rescue.

I dragged my boat out of the water and walked back upstream with my throw-bag, to set up rescue for the others, should they need it. Everyone else managed to get down without too much difficulty although a couple decided to portage the first bit. My “adventure” had caused Catriona to lose her nerve a little bit, and she had to be encouraged to carry on. However, she soon got into the swing of things again, and cursed me for causing her to worry.

Further downstream, I was at the tail-end of the group and was paddling towards an eddy behind a large rock, where everyone else was sitting. I angled myself towards the eddy but failed to notice a large stopper which was immediately in front of it. I didn’t have enough momentum to punch through, got sucked back, and found myself frantically side-sculling to stay upright. I had a couple of attempts to drag myself out but couldn’t make it. On the last attempt I capsized and was swept out. The water was very shallow and I was pinned face-down along my back deck. I couldn’t roll and, much to my embarrassment, took my one an only swim of the week. Someone threw me a rope and pulled me into the eddy. All in all it was an eventful day.

Day 6 was the upper Ubaye. We had a fairly long drive to the put-in, again through magnificent scenery. We stopped for coffee at a café at the top of a col with fantastic views of snow capped mountains, which marked the highest point on the drive, and we watched a large band of motor cyclists as they stopped briefly for some photographs. There must have been at least 40 of them and they made a spectacular, if somewhat noisy sight.

There were also numerous cyclists (the human powered variety) who were pitting themselves against the steep alpine roads. Judging by the number of such cyclists we saw during the trip, the alps are as big a draw for them as they are for kayakers. I could only admire their fitness levels as they made their way up the steepest of roads in blistering temperatures. I had particular admiration for a number of what I can only describe as “senior” cyclists. We saw one (presumably married) couple at the high col who must have been in their mid seventies. The pair of them had expensive looking bikes, were decked out in the obligatory lycra gear, and looked as fit as butchers dogs. No care homes and Zimmer frames for them!

The Ubaye was a great paddle, probably the high point of the week for me. We got off to a bad start when Vix capsized and swam within 50 yards of the start, and Oisin had to chase her boat about half a kilometre downstream before he managed to get it into an eddy. Despite this, we were soon on our way and enjoyed a brilliant paddle with mile after mile of great technical rapids, lots of big eddies and the usual spectacular scenery.

Our last day’s paddle was on the middle Durance, and was somewhat curtailed when it quickly became clear that the water levels were somewhat higher than Oisin had previously encountered on this stretch. We came across some fallen trees which we judged to be too dangerous to negotiate, got out to have a look, and then most of us decided that discretion was the better part of valour and called it a day, since there was no way of knowing what we would encounter further downstream. We then spotted a boat pinned on a fallen tree at the far side of the river. Oisin decided to retrieve it and after some nifty rope work, we managed to pull it off the tree and swing it into an eddy on our side of the river. The boat was a wreck. It had a gaping hole in the bow and had been buckled around the cockpit. There were no identifying marks on it, so no way of tracing it’s owner. I can only hope that whoever was paddling it fared better than his or her boat. Catriona decided to take whatever could be salvaged from it and proceeded to remove the seat, footrest and airbags. These were subsequently transported back home on the trailer. It had been a long tiring week; I have never paddled white water seven days straight before , and my body was starting to feel the strain. I was therefore more than happy to relax in the sun for an hour or so, while Oisin, Ashley and Laurence paddled on down to the get-out to retrieve the minibus and trailer.

On our last night we stayed at a different campsite to cut the journey time to the airport the next day. We had a great meal together in a restaurant with a fantastic view of the mountains and drank a toast to a great week’s paddling.

We were flying home from Paris, because there was no suitable flight from Grenoble that Sunday; which meant an 8 hour drive. Oisin and Ashley dropped us off at Charles De Gaulle before heading for the ferry at Calais. We landed in Belfast at about 11pm and I fell into bed, exausted, at half past midnight for a few hours sleep, before getting up for work on Monday morning.

I really enjoyed the trip. We had great company, fantastic paddling and outstanding scenery. The whether was hot and sunny, except for the evening thunderstorms and all-in-all, I couldn’t have asked for more. If you ever get the chance to go to paddling in the alps, grab it with both hands. Some people think that you need to be capable of paddling grade 5+ in order to tackle alpine rivers. There are certainly plenty of paddles to suit that type of paddler (I saw a few as we drove around and I wouldn’t go within a mile of them!). However, there is no end of sections of rivers to suit paddlers of average ability. If you go with the right group of people, and agree in advance the level that you are going to aim for, then anyone at 3 star level will find something to suit them. You will gain experience which you will never get at home and, if my experience is anything to go by, you will leave France with a smile on your face, and some great memories.

You can see my photos of the trip here:

http://s828.photobucket.com/albums/zz210/roydoherty/Whitewater%20France%202010/