This year, we replaced last year’s expedition to Lapland with a packraft road trip heading south. We had all sorts of plans—or rather, we didn’t have any, because there was really very little water anywhere in Europe this year.

After weighing all the circumstances, we headed first to Moll, Austria, where—thanks to the dam and power plant—there was actually some water. And from Moll, it’s just a stone’s throw by paddle to the Soča River in Slovenia and about the same distance to the rivers of northern Italy.

Unfortunately, after a grueling night of drinking, Bluebell left us at the last minute, so Piskin and I set out just the two of us, figuring that Eva and Štěpán would join us in Soča. And that’s exactly what happened.

In the game packrafts Eddy HC and Voyager.

MOLL

On Čert’s advice, we set up camp at Campanula, below Ukterkolbnitz, right at the start of the lower reservoir. The camp is run by Czechs; they serve Czech beer (though still for non-Czech money), and you can let loose here playing all kinds of games about anything and everything. And that’s right up our alley.

Another undeniable advantage is that after navigating the last rapids at Moll, you’ll step out of the river right at the campground. Awesome.

On top of that, the campground staff is incredibly friendly and went out of their way to get us up to the power plant, which releases water in abundance every morning. In the end, we got a ride in a van from Povoda, for which we are very grateful.

We didn't really explore the Moll section in any great detail. According to information from locals, up in Aussefragant by the bridge, it all starts with a slalom section; after that, the river flows briskly for a while, and then the Vltava takes over for a long stretch, only widening again in the lower third of the river.

It turned out exactly as they said it would. They just forgot to tell us that the slalom course ended with a brutal roller, which Piskin drove into somewhat blindly—which amounted to a proper dip.

From there on, we cruised along without a hitch. On the calm stretches, the current was actually stronger than on the Vltava, so we didn’t need to paddle, and we even had time to soak up some sun.

Further downstream, the river gets a bit rougher, but it’s nothing dramatic. There aren’t any big scares—just moderate waves and small rollers. The 25-kilometer stretch takes us about two and a half hours, so we can spend the whole afternoon playing all kinds of games.

If you're interested in seeing more, check out the RAW video from the river.

SOČA

We’ll spend the next day traveling to Soča. But first thing in the morning, we discover a game of Cornhole (not to be confused with Glory Hole) at the campground, and we end up playing it for so long that we almost miss our departure for Soča.

Well, we ended up leaving so early that we arrived in Bovec around 4:00 p.m. and managed to snag the last spot at the Kovacz campground, right at the confluence of the Koritnica and Soča rivers. We were especially motivated by the campground map, which showed a petanque court.

Eva and Štěpán arrive in the evening, and we’re having a great time — except that there isn’t a drop of water in Koritnica, and the Soča is flowing very shallowly and slowly.

In any case, as we know, packrafts can cut through even the thickest fog, so we set off in the morning as the fog hovers over the river.

There really isn't much water, but over the entire roughly 25 km stretch up to the bridge before the Slalomstrecke, we'll get out of the boat no more than twice. So it's actually pretty chill. Everything goes at a leisurely pace until we reach the Srpenica II section, where Štěpán and Piskin will take a dip.

In keeping with our philosophy—which involves avoiding the shuttle—we walk from the river to the bus stop and then take a nice walk from Bovec to the campground.

For connoisseurs, here's another RAW video.

TAGLIAMENTO and FELLA

After a long nighttime game of pétanque, we head to Fella in Italy the next day. We camp so hard in the secret desert that the next day, only Eva and Štěpán set out for Fella, while Pisk and I slowly make our way home. After all, packrafting is just an excuse, isn’t it…