Rapids Read Free Page B

Max. Come for the obvious reasons: drink, drugs, sex and underwater swimming. The boy stopped and blushed.
    Be just like being at home then, Keith said generously.
    Sex! Gormless Phil sniggered. Our Brian, sex!
    Quiet kids, Adam protested.
    I’m Amal. The Indian’s voice was embarrassingly high-pitched. I love Waterworld. It’s like a family for me. I’m seventeen. I’ve done plenty of white water in an open canoe — I did the Canadian trip — but this is my first time in a kayak. I’m sure it’ll be a doddle.
    Bloody open-canoeists, Max said.
    Then in the straining light with the sound of low drums still beating in the fresh alpine air and the moths circling the gas lamp, attention shifted to Michela. There was a short pause; it was the first time perhaps that people had had a chance to see what a beautiful creature she is. Her black hair is cropped tight around a white, perfect oval face where the eyes are steady and dark. I’m Michela, but please call me Micky. Me and Clive here have been setting up this trip for you. We’ve scouted the rivers which are not traditionally much used for kayaking, so we won’t have any problems with traffic. We’ve sorted out what level is what and who can go where. Or Clive has. He’s also selected and bought fifteen good Pyranhas and all the equipment, so this is quite a big moment for us. I’ve mainly been doing things like booking the campsite, accounts, paperwork and so on. We really care about your having a good experience in a beautiful environment, leaving it as you found it and hoping it will change you for the better.
    She stopped. Hear, hear! Keith said. You English? Caroline asked. The fat girl was squatting on her haunches, elbows on her thick knees, chin on hands, chewing. Michela hesitated: I’m Italian, she said, and turning quickly to Clive she asked him what he wanted to add.
    As the others also turn, they find themselves looking at a powerful man with a thick beard and broad forehead. I was one of Keith’s first pupils years back, he says. His thinning blonde hair is shoulder-length. And I survived to tell the tale. Somebody titters. Clive sits cross-legged, hands forward as if warming himself at a trekker’s fire. I’ve always thought kayaking was more than a sport. I mean, more than playing squash or tennis or something. It teaches you to respect nature, to read it carefully and understand it. One day your life may depend on how well you read the river. Then, when you spend time by the river and on the river, you can’t help but understand how dull and squalid a lot of so-called civilised life is. That’s why Michela and I have been trying to make it our job to get people involved. He paused.
    Anything else? Keith asked. Want to give us some kind of idea about what we’ll be doing?
    Clive still hesitated. It was the first time Michela had seen him address a group. She couldn’t imagine he was nervous. The river Aurino, Clive said, or Ahrn as the Germans call it, rises in the glacier above Sand in Taufers. He gestured with a thumb up the dark valley. On the Austrian border, more or less, about twenty miles away. It’s what the Italians call a
torrente,
rather than a river. Until Taufers it’s fast and wild. There’s a stretch there we might try on the last day, with those of you who are up to it, that is. But I’m warning you, you’ll have to convince me and Keith that you really are up to it. The water is powerful and there’s no space to breathe. Either you make the eddies and break out perfectly or you’ll be carried straight down the river and trashed on the rocks. Anyway, we’ll start by working the stretches downstream of Taufers. Plenty of interesting rapids, but usually a good space to roll up and generally relax afterwards if you’ve got the worst of it. Further down, between Bruneck and Brixen, there are stretches where you’ll have to deal with a lot of volume. One day we’ll have a go on a slalom course on the river Eisack,