"Each step forward has a sacred meaning of its own" Sri Chinmoy
Ross to Kerne Bridge - 6 mile kayak - May 2026 - Wye Valley
I'd often wondered if it was smart hanging on to 2 Kiwi canoes that take up so much space, seeing as I run & swim & cycle & hike so much that I just never make time to go paddling these days. Well, that was the case until I got a nasty injury in March 2026 and had find ways of exercising that don't stress my knee. Swimming, running and cycling were all painful, hiking was OK up to a point but not every day - so the Kayak came out as the perfect way to get immersed in nature while exercising without any leg-based effort. I was nervous about being back out on the water after years without paddling, and the logistics of getting to/from the start seemed a real hassle, but I was so glad I made the effort. I was tired after work on the Friday night and didn't car-top the kayak as I should have done, so that meant doing everything on the Saturday morning before even setting off. Consequently, after locking the boat to a tree by the river in Ross on Wye and driving back to the take-out at Kerne Bridge, I missed the hourly bus back to the start. The options were - wait an hour on a cold morning drinking coffee from a van by the river, or - hike 4 miles on lanes and B-roads through a corner of the Forest of Dean. Although the furthest I had hiked on the aforementioned dodgy knee since the injury was 2 miles, I was confident it wouldn't be too much.
I set out over the hill from Kerne Bridge in the direction of Coughton, on a silent lane through the forest. It was blissful and peaceful, nobody around and not even any cars. The climb got me sweating in my neoprene & rash vest, but soon I was descending through more gorgeous woodland with views out over the Wye Valley. The walk took just over an hour but the knee was just a little sore rather than aggravated, so it seemed like I'd made the right choice. Unlocking the boat at Ross and getting my stuff packed into a drysack took a few minutes and then I tentatively lowered the boat into the Wye and then lowered myself (rather awkwardly, trying to keep the dodgy leg straight as much as possible) into the seat.
I meditated for a few moments on the river ahead of me and found my balance in what is, after all, a flat-bottomed boat for total beginners. A good choice for someone like me who does aspire to be an Eternal Beginner in so many things! As a singer and musician I'm still at level 1, on the bike I have no technique at all, as a swimmer I can go the distance but my style is terrible, and in a kayak - yep, the same applies. It didn't matter though, as soon I was paddling steadily downstream at around 4.5 miles an hour, getting a good fitness session in without having to tax the knee in any way whatsoever. When you haven't been out on the river for a while it's a real joy to return - suddenly a new range of sounds, different birds and animals to those I'd see on a run or bike ride, a whole new world for the senses and the mind. The sound of the paddle pulling the water merged with the calls of ducks, swans and geese and the breeze making its music in the high branches above. Every so often there was a little grade 0 rapid, a riffle, to speed things up and provide just the right level of excitement for a novice paddler in a novice boat after several years off the water.
Soon I saw technicolour mandarin ducks, a pure white heron flying across the river ahead of me and water rats splashing in the shallows by the bank. The river ran through a series of bends, each one revealing a new scene. There were high poplars, overhanging oaks, birches and hazels lining the banks. I saw a few paddle-boarders and of course a few open boaters too (that's the main traffic on this section of the Wye) but I was out early, just before the rush, and mostly had the river to myself. I took satisfaction from the fact that I was overtaking the other paddlers and not getting overtaken myself - whatever I'm doing, the race mentality seems to creep back in!
After 3 miles I got stuck on a smooth rock in the middle of a natural weir in the shallows - this took a while to free myself from, pushing against the slippery rock with the paddle and trying to shake the boat loose with my hips, while trying not to twist sideways in the current. After a minute or so, I was off and back into the my paddling rhythm. Shortly after that I saw a flash of electric blue in a tree on the right bank and realised it was a kingfisher. Probably the first time I have seen one on the Wye, and very fortunate at this time of year. It felt like a real blessing to see Britain's most beautiful bird, which is usually very shy of paddlers. It stayed ahead of me as they always do, flitting from tree to tree and crossing to the right bank. I had to weave a few times to give the swans and geese a wide berth, but there was plenty of river to play with. Soon the ruins of Goodrich Castle loomed on the skyline and then before I knew it I was looking at the arches of Kerne Bridge and approaching the take-out, having just caught up with a pack of paddle-boarders. It was just after the bridge that I hit the liveliest rapid of the day, a cheeky twister in these low water levels that actually required a bit of steering to get through (whereas the earlier riffles had been just-paddle-hard-and-plough-through-it affairs). Then it was time to take my turn in the queue for the steps, nipping in between the many canoes that were launching to head down to Symonds Yat, to get myself out of the boat as awkwardly as I had got in.
The total time for the 6 miles was around 1:15 and I later found I had done this same stretch in 1:05 in 2014. I would have been 45 then and I'm about to turn 58 now, so perhaps no surprise I have lost some speed. It was in the same boat, but the 2026 trip was after a run of very dry weather, so perhaps there was slower flow? Well, no matter, it was a lovely paddle on a beautiful morning and I was extremely happy I hadn't Marie Kondo'd my kayaks to make space.
PADDLING SELFIE age 57:
PADDLING SELFIE age 45 also on the Wye:
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