Last summer I discovered a whole new river – not the (mostly) Welsh Dee, or either Dee, whether royal or not, of Scotland, nor indeed the Dee of County Cavan in Ireland, but the Dee. In Cumbria. Dentdale to be precise. When I say discovered, obviously it was known about, charted on maps and the like. But I could find nothing about any access points, trip reports, not even a river gauge turned up on internet searches. The day before I tested the water, I cycled round Dentdale with my wife. It’s a beautiful landscape, quiet and unspoilt, and it was a real pleasure to explore. Being quite a narrow valley as well, the road was never that far from the river, and I kept catching tantalising glimpses as we peddled. My appetite, already whetted by what I had seen, was further sharpened by the lack of information. Surely such an attractive river, in such a lovely setting, had seen some paddle craft. And no doubt it has, I’m not claiming a first descent, but the flavour of the …