13 days of kayaking in France

Every paddler must pass under the Pont d'Arc on the Ardèche River, says P. More importantly, I think it's great that we meet paddling friends in France who have been going there for decades. Because it's so beautiful there, because you can do climbing and paddling and hiking, because...

The practice course in Hüningen is canceled due to 11 degrees and constant rain, as is the completely flooded Doubs. It's a bit warmer in Sault-Brénaz, and the practice course challenges each of us at our skill level. I swim 3 times in the cold water of the Rhône River.

At the Mazet Plage campsite on the Chassezac River, we meet more friends, now totaling six. The stream doesn't have much water, but every morning water is released from the reservoir located upstream, which allows us to paddle it well. Of course, I also swim in the cold water here. And in the Ardèche, in the large, and above all, long canyon that stretches for 23 kilometers, with its impressive high and mighty limestone walls.

It's clear that I should finally learn the Eskimo roll. Scary stories like "it's really difficult, you have to practice it for weeks and months in the pool" don't exactly motivate me, but there's no choice. I'm the only one in the group who can't roll.

On the day off, it's almost hot for the first time. In the midday heat, Family N wants to take a refreshing swim in the Chassezac River and agrees to do roll training with me. Patiently, they wait in the cold water wearing wetsuits and try to teach me the elements of the complex movement sequence.

The Ardèche River now has hardly any water left, and the Chassezac River is also getting quite dry without the reservoir releases. We do some climbing and hiking, which is also nice, no question about it.

During the next rolling training on the Chassezac, three people talk to me more or less simultaneously. Each one wants to teach me their personal trick on how to "almost effortlessly" tilt the kayak with a skillful hip movement and wind the upper body back above the water surface. "And always the head last," everyone agrees on that, but not so much on the movements in between. Totally confused and freezing, I get out of the water after less than an hour. Luckily, there's still hot water in the campsite showers today.

Because of the water scarcity in Ardèche and Chassezac, P and I, together with Family N, leave the group in Mazet Plage and head east to the Drôme River. It originates in the Dauphiné region and has slightly higher than low water due to the snowmelt. Naturally, it's pretty cold. And of course, I capsize again and get stuck on a branch in the water. At a precariously blocked spot, P does a few more tilting exercises with me, so far he has completely stayed out of my rolling practice.

On the last day, the five of us paddle again on the upper section of the beautiful Drôme River, which is similar to the Isar River. After the lunch break, I'm not focused, forget to brace against a rock, and plop, I'm upside down in the cold water again. A mixture of anger and survival instinct takes hold of me, and I brace myself with the paddle at the bottom of the riverbed - actually, you're not supposed to do that to avoid injuring your shoulder, and usually the water is too deep for that - and voila, I'm back up. I have no idea how I did it, but apparently, the rolling training of the past few days helped. The others are quite bewildered, used to having to rescue me over and over again. I'm incredibly happy, it feels like the initiation into being a paddler bride.

At the exit, a side arm forms a small lake: no current, the water is deep and turquoise. I want to practice again, and the others have fun rolling as well. Three out of four roll attempts are successful, and I'm very proud, feeling like a little child. Happily, I get out of the cold water. Now we have to drive home, but I'm already looking forward to my next kayaking trip; it feels more like a beginning than an end.

Thank you all, without your tips and your patience, I wouldn't have managed this.