Bike Rafting With the Pro’s – Part 1

Or how Sanny learned not to drown with a bike.

When it comes to sports involving water, I have something of a sceptical relationship. My swimming abilities can be kindly described as those of a brick with a bigger brick tied to its leg. Unfortunately, my Dad’s lifesaving Poseidon like genes appear to have skipped a generation. For those who recall the Public Information cartoons of the seventies, I’m definitely more Dave than Mike who swims like a fish. Despite this, I’ve always been strangely drawn to giving adventures on the water a go. Cue an excited e-mail from my good friend Gary extoling the virtues of a new sport being pioneered in Alaska by a growing group of Fat Bike riding mountain bike explorers, Bike Rafting. A search of t’interweb and a call to Dave at Bothy Bikes later and Gary and I were booked with the UK’s only professional guides specializing in pack rafting training, Rob and Andy at Backcountrybiking.co.uk based out of Aviemore.

Are you sure that we’re in Scotland?

Rolling into our cheap but most definitely cheerful accommodation for the weekend, the perfectly situated (well, perfect assuming that you have a taste for fine food and even finer beers supplied by the always excellent Old Bridge Inn next door), something seemed amiss. We were definitely in Aviemore and it was definitely May but the thermometer was reading into the mid-thirties. Immediately, I sensed that my extensive selection of Scottish late Spring riding attire of thermal longs and waterproofs wasn’t the optimum choice for what turned out to be one of the hottest weekends of the year where even Mallorca couldn’t match what Aviemore had to offer. Swapping down jackets for t shirts and shorts, we met up with our fellow pack rafting virgins. Dave, owner of Bothy Bikes, trail builder and a bit of a legend in the Scottish mountain bike scene; Jim and Dave, two straight talking micro-brewery aficionados with a wicked sense of humour who kept us entertained all weekend with their killer one liners and first class chat; Colin, a fat bike riding adventurer who had taken very early retirement and spends his days exploring the hills and waterways of Scotland and of course our guides, Andy and Rob, who through the next two days managed to strike the never easy to achieve balance for guides of making it feel like you are out with your mates but interjecting just the right amount of advice and guidance to prevent us doing something silly. Like drowning. Beers and cider were downed and the sun followed suit as we spent the evening sitting outside talking pish (Scottish for man chat) and taking turns to try Andy’s half fat Jones bike berating it’s fugliness before riding it then coming back with stupid grins on our faces after we tried it. I believe that the alcohol may have played a factor…….

Day 1 – It’s like bloody Marbella but hotter!

Rising early the next day and positively stuffed from breakfast on the balcony of the Mountain Spirit café overlooking the Cairngorms, we met the guys outside the bunkhouse for Pack rafting 101. Handing us our deflated rafts together with our fold down paddles and flotation devices, Rob and Andy took us through the basics of the design of the rafts, how to pack them for riding and the limits of their capabilities. Basics covered, we saddled up to follow the Old Logging Way through the Scots Pine forest of Rothiemurchus. Despite carrying everything we need to cross lochs and rivers on our backs, our new toys didn’t feel unduly burdensome and the potential to delve deep into the back country became obvious. Unpacking our kit, task number one was to inflate our rafts. Watching Andy and Rob demonstrate with consummate ease how to use the featherweight nylon inflation bags, our initial attempts ranged from completely ineffectual to something resembling a small dog dry humping a leg. It wasn’t pretty but our collective efforts somehow managed to get us ready to hit the water. With the sun already in frazzle mode, Andy demonstrated how to recover if the raft tipped over and then, rather more startlingly, what happens if the raft got punctured. For me, this would mean a very immediate and pressing requirement to learn to swim to shore. Short of a “Chuck” style intersect flash that would turn me into Michael Phelps, the 10 or so seconds it would take for the raft to become as useful as a chocolate fireguard probably wouldn’t be enough for that. Not puncturing the raft was definitely the preferred option.

Eager to get started, we suited up with our life jackets and were up and paddling. With Loch Morlich flat calm, we got to grip with the rafts. Despite their small size and light weight, on the water they felt remarkably secure while able to be turned on a sixpence. Immediately, my concerns about bad things happening on water evaporated. This was going to be fun. Trying to get to grips with paddling technique, Colin led the way with his considerable experience garnered from years of kayaking while the rest of us honed our own techniques that would work best for each of us. Looking around, everyone was grinning and enjoying themselves. This was fun! After much fannying around and good natured piss taking in the way that men seem to thrive on, we put in for shore for the next stage in our Mr Miyagi style induction into the mysterious ways of the Bike rafter. Conscious that I was in someone else’s boat that cost the thick end of a grand and was made of a material that appeared to worthy of the moniker “paper thin”, I was intrigued to see how we could mate up our jaggedy, pointy bikes with pack raft. On cue, Rob and Andy pulled out their custom heavy duty tarp sheets that they had made for such occasions and demonstrated how to attach them and ultimately our part dismantled bikes onto the fronts of the rafts. Out of the water, there was a definite ungainliness to the arrangements but pushing off, the bikes added a degree of stabilising ballast to the rafts and didn’t appear to impede progress in any manner.

As the inevitable bad chat and fannying about came back into play, Rob observed that we were probably the largest gathering of bike rafters ever in the UK. Cue several attempts to come up with a suitable name and acronym for the, errr, pioneers that we had suddenly become. “How about the Scottish Pack rafting Association of Kayaking Riders?” came a quick-fire suggestion. However, as this would render us all “Spakers”, the suggestion was quickly dismissed. With the sun beating down, all of us took turns to sit back in our boats and chill out. Brewery Dave gave the impression of man ready to fall asleep in order to work on a classic Scottish burnt on the front, pasty on the back tan and was without doubt at one with being at the cutting edge of a new sport. However, lunch was already upon us demanding a return to base to take on sustenance before deflating and repacking our rafts and heading out for what proved to be a glorious spin round the woodland on ribbons of gloriously dusty singletrack set amongst the backdrop of that fantastic pine smell normally the reserve of holidays in Mallorca.

Stopping at a secluded spot on a tributary feeding into the loch, the afternoon’s lesson focused on reading the water so that we could learn to see where the safe spots were and what the hidden dangers and challenges to look out for were. Throughout, we all felt that we were learning new skills in a safe environment with Rob and Andy keeping us right and focused on the important basic skills we would need for paddling down the Spey the next day. However for me, the more I learned, the more I realised how different paddling is to biking. Bin it on a bike and most of the time you’ll be fine but on the water, there isn’t always the option to get off and walk when things start getting a bit beyond your comfort zone. After numerous attempts to read the water and getting to grips with working with the current to control our boats, we were soon heading down the stream into open water for a paddle to the café at the edge of Loch Morlich. Being Scotland on a warm day, the beach was akin to main beach scene in Jaws. It was absolutely jumping though thankfully without a malfunctioning mechanical shark to spoil our fun. Putting in on the beach, all of us felt like A list celebrities as folk came up to us asking what we were doing, why we had bikes on our boats, what they were like to paddle etc. If we had come out of the water in a white Lotus Esprit, I doubt we would have made a bigger impression. Like the Moneysupermarket.com legends that we now were, there was only one thing for it. Ice cold Cokes and Cornetto’s on the beach. Bliss! Not a bad way to end the first day.

Riding back to Aviemore, despite having been out all day, I couldn’t resist the lure of a fast, solo ride round Rothiemurchus and the Lairig Ghru. Courtesy of Dave at Bothy Bike and the guys at ISON Distribution, I had a Salsa Horsethief full sus 29er to ride for the weekend and not being one to pass up a riding opportunity, I was determined to see how it would handle some of my favourite trails. As it turned out, the answer was really rather brilliantly. Climbing up the Lairig Ghru, the big wheels, long top tube and short stem made for a riding position that positively encouraged me to attack even the steepest of rocky, root laden step. On the way down, I found myself carrying almost excessive amounts of speed from one corner to the next. Despite the big wheels, the bike could be thrown into corners and felt at home on even the narrowest and tightest of corners. For a full review, see issue 76 of the mag but for me it was the perfect companion for the weekend and top of my list for my next new bike.

Will our new bike rafter hero survive? Find out next week…