So after missing out on a part in the next Harry Potter movie we finally reached our watersports venue. The website said it was an exhilarating ride down one of Scotlands finest waterfalls, and the pre-trip information had taken great care not to mention anything about being cold, wet, in pain, in tears, in more pain, and suffering sheer unadulterated terror.

However, the reality of the situation dawned upon me when they made us sign a waver before starting our ascent to the top of the waterfall that absolved them of any blame should we be hurt, maimed, beaten, eaten or murdered.

When it came to the wetsuit fitting we were informed that the group ahead of us had got the best ones (always nice to hear), but we were asked to point out any major defects as “the water is very cold today”.

Brilliant.

I had a hole the size of a 50p on my thigh and a couple of smaller ones on the arse, but as I’m not a woman or a ten year old child, no replacements were available and I had to make do with the one I had. I now realise this was the perfect excuse to drop-out. I am blessed with 20-20 hindsight.

The trek to the top of the hill was exhausting, particularly in a full wetsuit, safety harness, helmet and buoyancy aid.

For those of you that don’t know, Canyoning is is a bit like white water rafting down a series or rapids and big waterfalls, but without a white water raft. Essentially you throw yourself down a series of waterfalls, brooks, slides and mini canyons, with the odd abseil down the rocky areas thrown in for good measure. All in order to reach the bottom safely.

Oh, and it’s really really fucking cold. Particularly if your wetsuit has a hole the size of a 50p on the thigh and smaller holes on the arse.

Being thrown off a waterfall by someone you met an hour ago is a strange experience, especially when your field of vision restricts sight of where you’re being thrown to. But it’s OK, as the fear soon passes once the ice-cold water hits your testicles. (more…)

No tags