Curious what happened this bridge with the annulment of the merger teixuga for lack of water, which did not prevent two good friends to approach each one end of the peninsula. On the one hand came from Santoña Natxo and the other that amalgam Basque Galician resident in Grenada is Iñaki. The only place the pair together de pajarracos con sed de ríos es por supuesto el Miño, la única apuesta segura a lo largo de todo el año en lo que a navegación fluvial se refiere.
Así que el viernes y tras el ya habitual madrugón puse rumbo a Padrón donde dejé mi coche para proseguir el viaje con Luís. Sobre las doce, llegada a Arbo, lugar donde Natxo ya nos esperaba, al haber pernoctado allí con su flamante furgo (chaval a ver cuando se te ve un detalle y me regalas una igual). Iñaki no tardó en aparecer, acompañado de un amigote suyo llamado Gaspar.
Como sé que a Gaspar le molan las fotos ;)
A Luís le parecía que el río iba demasiado high, so we called to ask Frieira flow, the voice on the line informed us that they were producing the least, about 25 MW, which after doing complex operations, including Z are transformed to become the legendary 125 m3 / s. A decent flow down from Cequeliños to Arbo.
The usual ordeal of changing clothes and navette before the end everyone in the River. This as always alternating steps with a high volume of water but little strength (C. II) removing the known seven peaks, which we realized we had more flow, or plant that had opened the tap. Without such a step wave rushing to throw something down.
At Arbo, we decided to go down to the wave and although I thought there would be nothing, we found a very quick second wave. At first it cost us all so much as get in but we will get the hang of us were staying indoors more and more. Unfortunately, the flow began to fall and the wave returned to normal settings.
Anyway in the midst of a lot of twists out some decent blunts. The staff was tired and decided to retreat upriver. Personally I would have liked to stay longer but I understand that for those who had gone to the shore could be a pain to stay there waiting.
After boarding, after the first portage, Gaspar was left behind and I stayed with him because he looked a bit smaller. When we got to the second portage, I threw before I was assuming. Just as he had left the kayak heard a whistling sound, but Inaki who was on top of stones told us was to be a heron. Luckily I looked out and hurried to return to water as the boat sailed without crew Gaspar. Embarked in a hurry and after a couple of strokes I found the deceased grabbed a pot with the kayak and paddle. After rescuing the trailer based material with cowtail I went to the wreck, not for companionship but because lately Environmentalists are somewhat altered and even a paddler is ultimately biodegradable, their equipment did not. The final reason is that there is always beer swimmer having paid;)
Anyway Gaspar swim prays to a small entrance in a panic what is commonly known as "going down to the foot" after doing the back and pour-plated finish against a small drosaje to be formed in that wall. Perhaps a change of ends in the Eskimo would have saved the wrong drink, but it scares you take them when you least expect and to be honest I have nothing clear as I would have reacted in the same situation when you notice that the blade starts to hit rock and do not give positioned for Eskimo.
After the portage, which is just in the Arbo pier where we talk to the people of Ciudad Rodrigo was also in the river, although training in downhill and slalom canoe.
The day topped with a bocatones in which Gaspar Vila insisted on paying for everything, without success, and we spent all the traditional cleavage. Damn, if I get to pay for food remorse I would put "may" in this blog;)
Saturday, provoked canoeist had to rest on one side by backlog (my van was crying a few hours of care in addition to the visit My parents also involves helping out at home) and the other preparing for the Gross swell prediction of ten meters announced on Sunday.
reached the last day of the bridge could only be fired in the magnificent and rare spot of Peter. Just the opposite end Arbo, on the northern coast of Galicia. A wave of fund would need more than seven feet swell to begin to appear.
When I arrived at the port of Minho, established venue already Celso and Joaquin, Juan Carlos, Fabian and Pepe would join us later.
Juan Carlos and I spent whores to embark on a cove off the sea wall but in the end we made, but I had to empty, by Pillar Series before he could put the covers.
The first attempt to catch the waves off the port but they were so far apart, to break in an undetermined point and lose strength, eventually decided to move to the Pedrido itself. As we saw it in situ, the prediction was not fulfilled and in the morning the swell reached no more than eight meters in open seas as they reflect the data collected by the buoy Sisargas:
Source:
State Ports
There could finally enjoy a wave of luxury and a lift very hard against the tide. The only drawback to the current age was presence of two big birds with jet skis, do you always be alert lest they lead you ahead.
Around the pier was a punishment against the current and the landing also had his one with the waves crashing against the walls of the docks of the port and doing all kinds of strangers.
Interestingly, after changes, we observe how the sea was in crescendo and lines of waves came increasingly large and orderly. In the afternoon I guess that would be the milk, but when you can not not be: (
pity currar touch during the week, hopefully the maretón not hold or else a little more rain to see the year with a bajadita a river of truth ... Salu2
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