The Scottish Highlands in early April hold a rare kind of stillness — a hush that lingers in the air before the season truly takes hold. On one such morning, I found myself alone on the shores of Loch Insh. It was just below freezing, the loch unmoving, and dawn barely brushing the hilltops. My breath rose like smoke as I unpacked a bundle that would soon become my kayak. This was an excellent time to expore springtime on the Spey.
This was my first outing with the TRAK folding kayak — a craft I’d chosen after months of research. I needed something lightweight, travel-ready, and capable of standing up to real conditions. TRAK’s design seemed to promise all that, with the added bonus of being packable into something that resembled a golf bag. But this was the moment of truth.
Unfolding and assembling the kayak for the first time was no ten-minute job — it took me closer to an hour, hands stiff from the cold. But the ritual was grounding. Piece by piece, the kayak took shape. By the time I launched into the loch, the sky had turned soft pink and the first light was spilling onto the snowy Cairngorm peaks.
I glided silently from the shallows. As a larger paddler, I appreciated the snug fit and solid feel of the TRAK right away. My route would take me around 25km downstream to Grantown-on-Spey — a classic stretch, offering both the peace of springtime rivers and the thrill of faster water later on.
Once past the loch, the Spey quickly narrows and curves through woodland. Morning mist still lingered in pockets along the banks. The landscape was coming back to life — birds stirring in the treetops, curlews calling across open fields. The kayak cut through the current smoothly, tracking with precision. On gentle rapids, its agility became more noticeable. I leaned into turns, tested edges, and felt confident. This was no gimmick — it was a real river boat.
Wildlife sightings came thick and fast it was springtime on the Spey. A dipper danced along a midstream boulder, vanishing underwater with a flick. A kingfisher – a brilliant flash of cobalt – zipped across the channel. Then, just after a bend, a truly magical moment: two otters surfaced ahead. Instead of fleeing, they approached, curious and calm. For a few heartbeats, we simply watched one another — three creatures sharing a river. Then they disappeared into the flow. Check out our Otterly amazing reel!
That brief encounter stayed with me through the final leg. I stopped briefly near Boat of Garten to stretch and snack on a gravel beach, then pressed on. The final section toward Grantown is more enclosed, the river swifter. Boulder-strewn rapids needed careful navigation. But the TRAK felt solid beneath me — nimble, trustworthy. I wasn’t thinking about its design anymore. I was just paddling.
By late afternoon, I arrived in Grantown, sun on my back, muscles tired, and heart full. The kayak disassembled easily and packed down neatly. A short walk to the road, and that was it — the end of a perfect spring day on the water.
What struck me most was the accessibility. This stretch of the Spey has everything: seclusion, wildlife, a touch of challenge. The TRAK kayak opened the door to it all. It’s a game-changer for remote paddling — ideal for explorers who want to travel light but paddle hard.
Planning a Spey journey in spring? Do it. Just dress for cold mornings, keep an eye on river levels, and bring your sense of wonder. For kit recommendations, TRAK Kayaks are well worth exploring. For route tips for springtime opn the Spey, the Go Paddling guide is invaluable.
In the end, the magic wasn’t in the distance or the destination. It was in the quiet encounters, the crisp air, and the flow of water beneath my hull. Scotland’s rivers always deliver — especially when you meet them with the right mindset.
Check out our Kayak Tours.