Canyoning: an adrenaline junkie's dream
Wikipedia, the online encyclopaedia, sums adrenalin up: a state of "hyperarousal, increased blood flow, heightened pulse rate, and increased physical performance" is the goal of the true adrenalin junkie, it says. "Any number of extreme sports, such as skydiving, could be associated with the phenomenon. Less physical pursuits would include stock-market trading or even shoplifting."
In pursuit of the ultimate adrenaline high, I am gradually narrowing down the list of adventure sports I have still not tried. While skydiving ranks at the top of my list of activities guaranteed to produce hyperarousal and increased blood flow, I am still not qualified to comment on the effects of either stock-market trading or shoplifting. Or for that matter, canyoning, which is why I have travelled to Fort William in the Highlands, the self-styled Adventure Capital of the UK.
Canyoning, known as kloofing in South Africa and canyoneering in the United States, is said to generate the maximum thrill from a combination of stunning mountain landscapes, fast rushing water and the effects of gravity.
"It's a high-octane mix of swimming, jumping, scrambling, climbing, slipping, sliding, abseiling and using foul and abusive language with a huge grin on your face," says Graeme, my guide at Vertical Descents, Britain's first commercial canyoning operation, and still the standard-setter.
We are standing in bright spring sunshine in woodland just outside the village of Onich, about half a mile from the shores of Loch Linnhe and near Fort William. Vertical Descents' HQ is conveniently close to Inchree Falls, a spectacular tiered waterfall that drops 500ft down a canyon through granite bedrock in the shadow of Ben Nevis.
"Finding the site wasn't easy," says Ben Starkie, who founded Vertical Descents. "Many of the best sites are in very remote areas, but this is about as perfect as it gets. And a first-timer can get a lot more out of the experience than from adventure sports such as kayaking, for example, where a high level of technical expertise is required before it's safe to negotiate a white-water canyon."
In order to experience canyoning safely, the limited body armour of the average human needs to be protected. So I am swiftly kitted out in a Neoprene wetsuit, helmet, buoyancy jacket and climbing harness. Rainbows are forming above the spray from the water crashing down on to the rocks below as we climb the path to the top of the falls.
"It's one of nature's more extreme fairground rides," Graeme says as we reach the top, "but we descend in stages, so if anyone feels nervous or thinks that this is not for them, it's no problem - we can hoik you out with the ropes and harness. That's why this is such a superb beginner's canyon."
We start with a quick tutorial on the best way to enter the water when jumping from the ledges. "Keep looking straight forward, have your arms above your head and let your legs go floppy," Graeme tells us. "That way, when you enter the water you won't smack against the surface and hurt yourself. Otherwise, just go with the flow. We won't ask you to jump from anywhere where there isn't plenty of water depth beneath."
Provided you are in the hands of experts, canyoning should be one of the safest adventure sports there is. First-timers should be escorted by guides who have an intimate knowledge of the canyon and the potential hazards involved. Canyoning after heavy rains is potentially fatal because of the risk from flash floods, so choosing an operator with an impeccable safety record is crucial.
But while losing your footing and being swept away is a potential hazard even when the water levels are acceptable, going with the flow is literally part of the adventure. The chances of being swept over a sheer drop by accident are minimal. The approaches to the waterfall jumps are all through calm water along flat plateaux with plenty of warning given.
Our first obstacle is a slide or channel in the rock known as a "flume", which feels like being washed down the loo. I emerge from the U-bend into a surging whirlpool with spectacular views of the valley below. We are now in classic canyoning territory, impossible to reach without protective clothing and guides who know the terrain.
A short scramble later and we find ourselves at the top of a 50ft waterfall. Judging from the squeals of delight from my companions, "hyperarousal and increased blood rate" are beginning to kick in as we gingerly clamber around the cliff edge to a ledge halfway down.
Jumping requires some nerve and as I hit the water I realise at once why Graeme recommends keeping the arms vertical in flight. My hands have hit the water flat on and are stinging like crazy. Never mind, the whirligig sensations in my stomach easily mask the pain and as I surface into the wash at the base of the waterfall I feel as though I am in the drum of a washing machine on fast spin.
Making the most of our glimpse at the underbelly of this wild Highland territory, we climb into a hollow behind the waterfall as it thunders down in front of our faces. It's a magical moment. As we emerge, some walkers on the path above the canyon peer at us in astonishment - a weird group of human otters careening down the mountainside.
After half an hour we reach our final hurdle, a 40ft jump into a pool from a ledge high up on the cliff face on the far side of the canyon. As I work up the necessary surge of adrenaline to make the leap, I am vaguely aware of Graeme telling me that even hardened rock climbers find jumping the most difficult aspect of the sport.
"Their instinct to stay on the rock face is so powerful they find it really difficult to let go," he shouts as I hurtle to my fate in the watery maelstrom beneath. As each member of the team completes the jump, we high-five in triumph at the base of the cliff, peering out from beneath our helmets like rubber ducks in a fairground pop-gun stand.
And then, after one final flume when we belly-flop into a surging canal, we are swept out into the placid river in the valley below. Bluebells and budding beech trees shimmer in the sunshine and sway gently in the breeze.
I'm still in such a state of hyperarousal that Graeme tells me I'm ready for the next challenge, the Allt Nathrach canyon. This is a five-hour marathon that includes a 30-minute off-road safari and a long walk-in to reach the start point. Guided only by Vertical Descents' most experienced guides, clients must have successfully completed Inchree Falls to be eligible. Once you start, the only way out of the canyon is down. Those of a nervous disposition need not apply.
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