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here
From : Sean
Post :I lent my spare paddle to a red
helmut paddler early on day 2 of the Drak. My Nat No is on it 2484.
I forgot to get it from him at the finish – do not know his name or
number – sorry. We had to leave early – long road home to MP
Sean Boyley 082 462 0057
From ; Greg
Post : I would like to send a message out to everyone asking
"I left my 2 trusty Lettman paddles at the NCS Resin repair spot
just after Black Murray on Saturday afternoon at the Drak.
They have Powerade stickers on them with rubber bite holders.
Contact..Greg: 0823382442
From:
Scotty
Post: Just wanted to say well done and thanks on another
awesome race this year!! This was my 5th Drak in a row
and I hope to never miss one as long as I can paddle. It really is
by far the best race on the calendar, and my friends and I look
forward to it ever year!!
The fact that its
over a weekend so you don’t need to take leave is one of the biggest
drawcards too, so please keep it on Sat/sun.
Do you have any of
the old Drak boat/paddle stickers lying around? I’d like to stick
them on my paddling/diving/fishing boxes if you do please?
Regards
Scotty
From:Rudi Fokkens
Post: School English essay
I heard it before
I saw it, the roar of water cascading over rocks and boulders,
forming waves and holes. I seemed like a stranger, out of place in
the river valley, walled in by lush green walls of grass that forced
the water to be squeezed through a narrow gorge, with the occasional
cow grazing or bellowing into the fresh Berg air. I was unsure,
frightened maybe, as I braced with my paddle to decide which line I
should take down this awe-inspiring rapid, thinking of the advice
many people had given me,
my thoughts jumbled, my brain spinning. I had to make the choice now
as the current sucked me ever closer. I made my decision, following
the advice and my instincts; I kicked hard on the right rudder pedal
and dipped the blade of the paddle deep into the water and took a
powerful stroke that made the boat lurch forward as I kept paddling.
The entry into the rapid was tricky as I’d hugged the right bank,
ducked under the dead willow branches, glanced off a rock and shot
forward propelled by the powerful current. I veered left to avoid a
rock and a strong eddy, adrenaline pumping, brow covered in sweat
struggling to fight the raging torrent of water so I could get into
the middle of the river and squeeze between two boulders covered in
the morning dew and spray from the river that gave them a glossy
sheen. Scraping past the boulder I dropped off a ledge and into the
frothing pool below, the triumph that I had conquered Glenhaven made
me so exhilarated that I didn’t see the rock lurking just under the
surface that tipped my boat as I started to shout and raise my
paddle above my head in triumph and was rewarded with an
unintentional dip in the refreshingly cool Berg water.
