Kayaking the Gorges of Tarn

If you follow me on Instagram, you know I took a second trip to France this summer. Unlike the previous trip to Brittany in August, this trip included outdoor activities, like kayaking and hiking. This is the first of 3 posts about these activities.

After flying into Toulouse and sightseeing in the surrounding area, we headed from Albi to the town of Millau, which, in addition to being home to the massively high Millau Viaduct stretching across the Tarn Valley, is known as the Outdoor Sports Capital (of France, I assume?). Great news since we were there to canoe!

We actually didn’t stay in Millau long; the day after we arrived, we took a quick sightseeing run around the city to gape at the viaduct from afar before hopping in the car to go to the canoe outfitter about an hour up the Tarn River.

Before our trip, my partner selected Canoe Blanc, located in an old mill on the edge of La Malène. I was looking forward to this part of the trip as it had been a long time since I paddled anywhere. When examining the different options back at home in Madrid, it fell to me to set our expectations for what we could accomplish because my partner is not a strong paddler and was checking out 20 to 21 km trips. I was able to negotiate us back to the evocatively named, “Nymphs Course,” of 17 km and approximately 3 hours, not including stops. This route starts further upriver in the town of Saint-Chély du Tarn and ends at Cirque des Baumes (downriver from the outfitter).

The morning of our trip, we drove the winding roads to La Malène, taking the steep entrance down to the riverfront at the mill housing Canoe Blanc. We checked in and they gave us a giant white barrel to put our things in. We had read that they are supposed to be waterproof, but some people had theirs leak. Though, after the experience, I wonder if it was user error or due to complete immersion in the water. Just in case, we had brought our own waterproof bag that we used to use for sailing.

We got ready and listened to a description of the route—first in French for everyone else followed by a combination of French, English, and gestures for us. Honestly, I wasn’t particularly clear on the details, but my partner filled me in on what he could catch of the French with his rudimentary comprehension, which we were able to piece together with the rudimentary English into a more or less understandable sequence.

Next, we all piled into the van, trailer full of boats and rode upriver to the start. The driver was nice and seemed funny as everyone kept laughing. What a shame I haven’t learned much French yet. However, before too long, we pulled down off the road onto the pebbly shore of the river and unloaded the boats, where the driver handed me not canoe paddles, but kayak paddles. Crap.

I’m mostly confident with my canoe abilities on lakes and tranquil rivers, but I’ve only been kayaking a few times and always alone, never with another person. I wasn’t feeling too good but directed my lighter partner to the front, while I pushed us off and plopped into the back, my usual spot.

The start was amazing, just a minute back upriver was a high, stone bridge leading to a town with waterfalls running from underneath, down the mossy cliffs into the river. We paused to marvel and take photos before heading in the proper direction, with the flow of the water.

The first part of the trip was pretty easy going, as the water was high in most places, so I just had to steer us more or less in the right direction. That is, until we started encountering “rapids.” Now, anyone who spends anytime in actual rapids would not consider these such, but for us, who have no single tiny bit of experience with rapids, it was a little thrilling and sometimes nerve wracking. I found steering around the rocks and corners in the faster moving waters challenging, especially as I was completely unfamiliar with the appropriate strategies using the bulky and awkward (to me) kayak paddle. Early on, we actually turned clear around at a small rapid and smacked the rear end of the boat into a rock wall at another, larger one later on. Also, because it was late in the season and the water was low, there were some places we couldn’t navigate either because we couldn’t see the deeper water from afar or because I made a navigational error, so I had to get out and push us in several places.

Included in the many highlights of this route, as well as the longer ones, are a couple villages on the opposite side of the river that are only accessible by boat. One of these is off-limits as only one family lives there who doesn’t want tourists traipsing on their land. Fair enough. The other, Hauterives, is open to visitors. So, we stopped to walk around and relax on the shore while eating the lunches we had packed: Pate sandwiches, which had quickly become a staple on this trip. Hauterives seemed nearly uninhabited and was filled with signs noting that it was a “village in peril.” Apparently, they have, or rather had, a sort of cable trolley to bring larger items across the river. It broke and the region never prioritized money for fixing it. As such, necessities for construction or household repair became inaccessible.

After lunch, I jumped in the water for a swim before we continued on our way, passing more rapids, including one that we were directed to bypass on foot. As we passed Canoe Blanc, we called out to them as they had instructed us to do so they had an idea of how long it would be before we needed to be picked up. Here, we confronted a small dam. My partner said the outfitter had told us to go straight over, but I had my doubts. It was a sloping drop just a little longer than the boat. Perhaps with higher water it would be possible, but we just got the front of the boat stuck on the lip. Instead of trying to gather more speed to launch ourselves over, once we unstuck ourselves, we happily proceeded off to the side where we could carry the boat down.

At this point, I was getting really tired, the small rapids increased and navigating them, while admittedly fun, was getting tiresome. I just really wanted to be able to relax, let go of the intense focus I needed to navigate and view the scenery. Fortunately, my wishes were answered because we had suddenly reached what I consider the highlight of the trip—staggering cliffs rising on either side of the river and pockmarked with little caves and coves where we could take a rest in the shade. The water here was also deeper, slower, and much easier to navigate. After the cliffs though, I was ready to be done as my back was aching and my arms felt dense and heavy with fatigue.

We finally reached the pull-out point and hauled the boat out and up the drive next to the road, changed out of our wet clothes, and prepared to call the outfitter as they had recommended. However, just as we pulled out the phone, the van was there and the driver still in good spirits. The other 2 groups we started with were there as well. They had done longer routes, so I’m not sure it’s a good reflection on our kayak abilities that they were already finished.

The entire journey did take us 4.5 hours, a good 1.5 hours longer than the given time, but it’s possible we did stop for that long. It’s also possible that the trip is faster with higher water (and, you know, more experienced people!). Overall, it was a new and interesting adventure. After finishing, we admitted to each other that 17 km was probably too much for us, but the best part came toward the end, so it’s difficult to feel much regret. Afterall, tiredness passes and muscles recover. But, perhaps next time, I’ll take a kayaking course beforehand.