Fresh from our adventures on the Thames with the superb, but big and heavy 'Canadian'. It became apparent that I wouldn't be able to spend as much time on the water as I would have liked. Finding the time when both Loz and I had the time to get 'Millie's' bottom wet was becoming ever more difficult. With our respective jobs and family commitments and Loz's other hobbies, synchronizing our spare time so that we could get time on the water was becoming a rare event. And with the size and weight of 'Millie', running out solo was not really an attractive option even if I was adept at paddling alone, which I'm not. If I was going to get more water time, I was going to have to re-evaluate my chosen craft. The major factor in me deciding to go with the open canoe option was my size, I had tried a couple of kayaks and found the cockpits too small making entry and egress both difficult and potentially dangerous if I needed to 'evacuate' quickly when on the water' or worse still, under the water.
While I was contemplating my next move regarding watercraft we were invited on a stag weekend at Llyn Gwynnant, a campsite on the banks of a beautiful lake in Snowdonia.
So on Friday 17th August we headed off to North Wales for a weekend of canoeing, camping and I have to admit, a fair amount of drinking. The weather was still horrendous, skies of dark grey and torrent of rain accompanied us on our journey. We were the last to arrive at the site and after quickly pitching our tents we headed into town to find a hostelry that would both feed us and supply us with the required amount of alcohol. The plan had been to cook a big bunch of food on the barbeque and sit around the campfire drinking and putting the world to rights. But as I said, the rain really was biblical and the mud was ankle deep. Hence the change of plan and quick exodus to the pub. Tonight we drank and dined in the warm and dry, tomorrow we will return to the original itinary of being cold and wet.
After a pleasant but rather staid evening in the pub we returned to the campsite and retired for the night.
The next morning the rain had eased to a steady drizzle and a couple of the lads had rigged up a bit of a Heath Robinson shelter using a blue tarp roped between a couple of trees and a large trailer that had been used to transport a couple of the lads gear. From beneath the shelter the smell of bacon and sausages wafted towards my tent and tempted me out of of my sleeping bag to be greeted by the sight of Mark, the stag, and Nick cooking breakfast.
As we stood eating our breakfast sandwiches and drinking tea the rain stopped and the low clouds that had restricted our view to just the bottom third of the mountains and hills that rose on either side of the campsite were now in retreat, affording us a vista that was both beautiful and dramatic.
The next morning the rain had eased to a steady drizzle and a couple of the lads had rigged up a bit of a Heath Robinson shelter using a blue tarp roped between a couple of trees and a large trailer that had been used to transport a couple of the lads gear. From beneath the shelter the smell of bacon and sausages wafted towards my tent and tempted me out of of my sleeping bag to be greeted by the sight of Mark, the stag, and Nick cooking breakfast.
As we stood eating our breakfast sandwiches and drinking tea the rain stopped and the low clouds that had restricted our view to just the bottom third of the mountains and hills that rose on either side of the campsite were now in retreat, affording us a vista that was both beautiful and dramatic.
 |
After breakfast the lads that were to be walking up and down Snowdon all piled into Marks Landrover and were driven to to start of their chosen path by Sprigsy, who after dropping off our mountaineering contingent set off on his own to do some photography. That left four of us at the campsite, Loz and I dragged 'Millie' and the two kayaks over to the Lake, leaving the the two to just relax and enjoy the ambiance and beauty of Llyn Gynnant.
We had taken both kayaks and 'Millie' because I wanted to try getting out of the cockpit of the kayak while it was upside down. I wanted to be able to go out and get water time on my own, without relying on other people to accompany me. And to do this I needed to be sure that if I ended up the wrong way up on the 'Curly Wurly' (the Wyrley and Washington canal, our local canal), I would be able to get out safely. And what better place to practice than in the clear, fresh waters of Llyn Gwynnant with my good friend and experienced kayaker Loz looking after me.
We had taken both kayaks and 'Millie' because I wanted to try getting out of the cockpit of the kayak while it was upside down. I wanted to be able to go out and get water time on my own, without relying on other people to accompany me. And to do this I needed to be sure that if I ended up the wrong way up on the 'Curly Wurly' (the Wyrley and Washington canal, our local canal), I would be able to get out safely. And what better place to practice than in the clear, fresh waters of Llyn Gwynnant with my good friend and experienced kayaker Loz looking after me.
After a few refreshing dips in the crystal clear waters of the lake, successfully getting out of the capsized boat and a little play with 'Millie' we took full advantage of the hot showers and took our seats back at the camping area and cracked open a few cans while we waited for the return of our intrepid mountaineering friends.
When they returned, the campfire was lit and the barbeque teased into life, the beers, wines and spirits were lined up and we took our seats for a night of red meat, alcohol and inane ramblings.
Nick, who had unwittingly taken the role of head camp chef took his position at the barbeque and ensured a steady stream of red meat, ably assisted by a steady stream of Sous Chefs. Mark, the stag, assumed fire tending duties and kept a substantial fire burning throughout the evening giving us both warmth and light. The alcohol was plentiful and the conversation was entertaining.
When they returned, the campfire was lit and the barbeque teased into life, the beers, wines and spirits were lined up and we took our seats for a night of red meat, alcohol and inane ramblings.
Nick, who had unwittingly taken the role of head camp chef took his position at the barbeque and ensured a steady stream of red meat, ably assisted by a steady stream of Sous Chefs. Mark, the stag, assumed fire tending duties and kept a substantial fire burning throughout the evening giving us both warmth and light. The alcohol was plentiful and the conversation was entertaining.
We were regaled with stories of the lads misadventures on Mount Snowdon. Nick made the mistake of showing a polite interest in Loz's and my Thames adventure and was therefore subjected to a full account of our trip. Fortunately we weren't the only ones with tales to recount and we were treated to many stories of other adventures
Overall we found the campsite to be very good, the facilities were adequate and although the weather and subsequent mud didn't really facilitate the most pleasant of experiences it didn't really spoil it either, the location was stunning and the lake beautiful. Will definitely be making a return visit.
I decided that although I had managed to get out of the kayak on the nice clean, clear waters of the lake, it was very tight and not really confidence inspiring as to whether I would be as happy being upside down on my own on the dirty, murky canals of the Midlands. I think I will be looking to get a kayak with a bigger cockpit and a lot more stability, unfortunately, I will have to sell 'Millie' to raise the funds.
No comments:
Post a Comment