Up the creek without a... rudder (or, going against the flow)

Yes, I'm going to waffle on about kayaking again! Because not only is a wonderful for both my mental and physical health, but it's an activity which is also full of new challenges and unexpected experiences.

Some of these are idyllic moments of peace - blue skies reflecting on a calm, almost still river surface, or the joy of setting out on a cold and frosty morning, breath-clouds hanging in the air, or the wonder of glimpsing a kingfisher or even two as they dart across the water. Some of them are ridiculous fun - trying to do a beach portage (where you get out of the boat into the water, then have to get back in it again without any dry land or firm surface to hold on to!), or practicing deep water rescues on a hot summer evening. Some are moments of satisfaction at achieving a goal - completing a time trial without stopping, participating in a race, or just the moment when the different bits of technique come together and it all just feels right. And some of them are just... challenging!

I decided this week that since it's the start of our summer training programme, and several of us were talking after our weekend session, agreeing that we'd like to come along in the week and the Tuesday evening session should work, I would sign up and make sure I finished work in time to end my day with a lovely paddle. Maybe the hail and thunderstorm on Tuesday afternoon should have been seen as some sort of omen - but more on that later! Despite the weather and my misgivings, I headed out on time, and got to the club so I could get ready without any rush or stress. I dithered over the choice of boat - should I take the trusty, slightly more stable one, or - since I've felt perfectly comfortable in that one even in some fairly swirly water this year - should I push myself and go for the slightly wobblier boat which I haven't paddled since the autumn. Eventually, though, I decided to be brave, take the challenge, and the lighter boat, and just hope it wasn't a bad decision!

Amazingly, the sky cleared, and by the time we set out, the sun was shining and it had turned into a beautiful evening. The water level of the river has come down steadily over the past few weeks, and we were back down to 'yellow boards' in the Environment Agency's ratings, so it looked like being a lovely session. The coaches decided we would head downstream from the club, so it was a chance to get back to places most of us hadn't been since November. It took a little while to settle in to the feel of this kayak - it's one which is a bit wobblier than my normal, but which can wobble further before tipping over - but as the evening went on I felt more confident and less scared.

We practiced our technique, paddling super-slowly, then gradually speeding up a bit; we did a short sprint, and a sustained effort; we practiced racing turns around the wooden posts in the middle of the river at the next lock. Through the various exercises, I was exactly where I expected to be - right in the middle of the pack, speed-wise; there are some people in the group that I will never manage to catch, and others who I know I can pass. Everything was going according to the script. And then, coming back up the river, I somehow started at the front of the group for one stretch, and miraculously stayed that way, being passed only by the two coaches as we approached the railway bridge which was our finishing point. I went under the right hand span and turned to come back through the middle span, carefully placing my boat so that I didn't get hampered by the coach immediately in front of me on the inside, then as soon as I was through the middle, turned again to go under the left-hand span, ready to continue heading upstream. Somehow, I was still ahead of the rest of the group - until with a bit of a bang, the tiller bar and my boat's rudder parted ways. Suddenly the flow pushed me into the bridge pillars, and I was completely unable to steer!

Somehow I managed to manoeuvre my way clear of the bridge, and called to the coaches to let them know I had a problem. Unfortunately, there's not much can be done about a broken or disengaged rudder cable mid-river, so the only option I had was to keep on paddling, but in a boat which not only had no steering ability, but whose rudder was being caught by the flow and pushed around. Fun indeed!

One coach took the rest of the group, and the other stayed with me as I made my way slowly and cautiously back upstream. Paddling against the flow, with the boat trying to go whichever way the water wanted to take it was absolutely an exercise in steering by paddlestroke, and learning to read the boat and the water better. I'm still impressed that I only had to be rescued from one tree, holding on to the coach's boat while he paddled backwards into clearer water, so I had space to turn my boat in a more helpful direction. And - miracle of miracles - I didn't fall out!

The coaches had initially thought they could have a look at the problem once we got to the lock and got off the water, but by that time it was getting a bit late and we needed to get back to the club while it was still light, so after a moment to stretch my very tired legs and back, I got back in and set off again. That final half mile sometimes goes very quickly - but not that time! Eventually though we got back to our landing stage and I was helped out of my poorly kayak, exhausted but triumphant. When the problem happened, I had no idea how I was going to manage to get back, but by taking it slowly and steadily, remembering that going faster magnifies any little steering errors, so speed was absolutely not my friend, I paddled my way back one stroke at a time.

So there's my lesson for the week - when something feels overwhelmingly big and daunting, if I take it slow and steady, if I can relax instead of panicking, if I can just believe in myself and my ability to manage in unexpected circumstances, I'll sometimes discover that I actually can rise to the challenge, and occasionally even find joy in the attempt.