tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-296001912024-03-07T11:38:32.247+00:00MadsWorld....a sideways look at life and the natural world,
seen through an off-centre filter.madhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09930707885045182012noreply@blogger.comBlogger95125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29600191.post-46982762347546197542018-09-16T13:57:00.000+01:002018-09-16T16:50:45.858+01:00Unanswered QuestionsSo, with all the driving up and down between Yorkshire and Aberdeenshire, I have a lot of time for thinking. Not always a good idea, and I sometimes need to take a deliberate step away from the grimmer thoughts that surface, so I tend to let that bit of my mind not engaged in traffic, roadworks and ‘WTF is that idiot doing?!’ freewheel along whichever odd pathways it chooses.<br />
Which ends up in some odd places... for example:<br />
<br />
Herons. Storks. Cranes. Egrets. Ibises, flamingoes. Swans and geese. Big things with long necks. Do their necks get sore carrying their heads? Mine does, after time at the wheel ... so why not them? Well, their bones are lighter, so maybe less of a problem... which led on to considering how they carry their heads and necks in flight. It becomes clear that there are essentially two styles; curved back and tucked in, as demonstrated by the herons and egrets, or stretched out, like pretty much everything else. So why the difference? Can’t just be an aerodynamic thing, can it? But then, aerodynamically, what’s the difference between a heron and a crane? Both wide wings, long necks, trailing legs... Habitat? They all tend to live or at least forage in soggy places. Food might differ a bit... but how would that affect flight?<br />
<br />
It really started to bug me. I took time out to deal with the traffic through Newcastle, and then came back to the problem. I thought about how they get what they eat. All of them tend to wander along poking around with their beaks for whatever (and that includes flamingoes, however specialised they are)... but the heron family, including egrets and bitterns, tend to lurk and suddenly spear their prey, in one swift, elastic movement that I can only characterise as ‘b-doink’. I couldn’t think of any of the others that do this... Does this sudden, particular movement have an anatomical knock-on, some kink in the neck vertebrae, an adaptation in the muscles and tendons and ligaments that allows the motion but causes something different in the way the head is carried especially in flight? In the way that for some birds the default setting for feet is ‘clamped shut around the branch’.<br />
<br />
I don’t have a handy set of skeletons to make comparisons. But I’d really like to know! So I’ll keep digging and if I do find out, I’ll let you know, too. And if anyone has any better hypotheses, please chip in!madhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09930707885045182012noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29600191.post-18102565827865464162018-09-06T20:20:00.001+01:002018-09-06T20:20:27.014+01:00Same old excuses...Two years later, and i am no better at keeping things up to date. Admittedly, with serious changes in my world, revolving about Mum being unwell following a fall down the stairs in early 2017, and the subsequent acceleration of her Parkinson’s, things are unlikely to be the same again.<br />
Miraculously, she’s still with us, but holidays are off the menu, and a lot of my time is spent on the road between Yorkshire and Aberdeenshire, keeping an eye on things and holding down work as well. <br />
<br />
But it’s time to find an outlet, and maybe a return to short daft blog entries may be the answer...madhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09930707885045182012noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29600191.post-78658407959407435812016-05-26T19:51:00.003+01:002018-09-16T16:52:27.862+01:00The Invisible IbisSo there's a glossy ibis on the reserve. Maybe even two. Been there for over a week. It's even on the new office window-list.<br />
<br />
But have I seen it? Have I heck!<br />
<br />
I've seen the endless reports come in, responded to emails about 'what's this odd bird', listened to colleagues come in from various places on the site saying 'Just seen it'... but no. Nada. Rien. Zilch. It was in a field near the hotel in the village at the north end of the reserve yesterday, seen by one of our wardens at about 4.00 pm - he even rang to let me know it was there...but when I got there - nothing.<br />
<br />
OK, I'm limited as to where I can go - walking over rough ground or any distance from the car is a problem, but it was (estimated) only about 50 yards from the fence. I even hauled myself up onto the doorframe of the car to make myself taller - still nowt. (Hope that didn't cause the broken spring which caused my car's MOT failure today... oops)<br />
<br />
It's not a MAJOR thing - I mean, I've seen them before - look like a very dark, depressed, curlew unless the sun is really shining on them, when the plumage takes on an oily sheen, like you get on puddles with petrol.<br />
<br />
But it's bloody irritating!madhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09930707885045182012noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29600191.post-44353667082369395592016-05-20T23:21:00.004+01:002016-05-20T23:22:47.237+01:00Where does the time go?Just realised I wrote the last blog entry around three years ago...<br />
<br />
No. This is not good enough! Time to get my arse back in gear and do something more regular. Not sure what you're going to get; there <i>will </i>be cute pony pictures and canal boats, but there may be more on the problems facing our wildlife, observations on getting older and infirmity, the occasional rant about things I can't rant about in my professional life/web-presence, or things that get my goat generally... I'm likely to avoid the political, because I think everyone should make up their own damn minds and finding unbiassed commentary on the interwebs is almost impossible!! I don't promise NOT to write crud poetry - that goes with the territory. There are likely to be bad jokes. I can't guarantee not to cause offence.<br />
<br />
So. Here goes 2016.<br />
<br />
Resume in brief, so we don't have to do this again: I got taken on at the reserve as established staff, not contract - now 2 days/15 hours a week. I spread this over 4 days to try to keep some form of continuity! After some ups and downs, we've gone from 2.5 staff to 5.5 plus new volunteer interns (the 0.5 is me, part-time) ..we've finally got a new office! (Moved in last week and are still in a frenzy of building bookcases and shelves and stacking things on them). The volunteer accommodation is now getting an overhaul, although everything is around 5 months behind plan... with all the frustrations that causes! <br />
Since 2013 we've gained a number of new Koniks - our own foals and a couple of new colts who will be the future for the breeding stock (otherwise everything gets too in-bred) - we're up to 33 horses now! The Meadow project is in its last year, but showing real progress - the but we're restoring is increasing biodiversity every year as the ponies eat the rough grasses and rushes and allow the 'pretty stuff' to grow through.<br />
Family-wise - we've continued to narrowboat our way around Britain; 2014 was up in Yorkshire, amidst the furore of the Tour de France: 2015 trip was on the Kennet and Avon, down to Bath: this year we're going back to the Llangollen. Mum and I have been back to the cabin at Loch Awe each year, and have come to an agreement that the best thing for her birthday is a trip over to Applecross, to stay a couple of nights at the Applecross Inn, which is just bloody brilliant!! My brother has finally taken the plunge and moved from a one-room bedsit to a whole house, with all the domesticity that goes along with that - I never expected to get FB messages about mowing the lawn!<br />
Healthwise... well, we're hanging in there. Mum has T2 diabetes and Parkinsons, which is - to quote a hero of of mine - an embuggerance. My knee and hip joints are crap - can't walk any distance - and arthritis is creeping into my hands, which as someone who likes painting etc is a bit of a worry. But it will not keep us down. There is fun stuff out there we can do, places to go and things to see, and a hell of a lot of fun to be had.<br />
<br />
Let's go for it.<br />
<br />
Meanwhile, here's a unicorn I drew for my friend's grand-daughter. Enjoy!<br />
<br />
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<br />madhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09930707885045182012noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29600191.post-55521364851916392922013-06-28T11:20:00.000+01:002013-06-28T11:21:48.277+01:00Playing Catch-Up: Sunshine on a Rainy DayIt's not all doom and gloom.<br />
<br />
For one thing, not working means you have a great deal of freedom to do other stuff! And get paid for it! Small artwork commissions, the odd science workshop, a bit of admin and co-ord for other events...it all adds up. I branched out into cards and postcards for sale (admittedly nothing much has come of this yet, but then I was always lousy at marketing!). Mum and I went back to Loch Awe. There was the long Xmas break - no need to rush back north despite the weather. The only problem is knowing what day of the week it is when you don't have some sort of structure to your life. I drift into a nocturnal kind of schedule if left to my own devices (definitely a night owl rather than a lark!) ...which isn't so bad in the depths of winter when you don't see much sun anyway, but I do have to keep an eye on my tendency to suffer from SAD.<br />
And - to put it bluntly - I was bored!<br />
<br />
So when Richard the Reserve Manager asked if I'd be interested in a part-time job as administrator for the local reserves, I nearly bit his hand off.<br />
<br />
So it's official. I'm back at Strathbeg in a paid capacity for the third time in my (post-RAF) life, dealing with the bits of paperwork that otherwise would keep the rest of the staff from doing what they <i>should</i> be doing out in the field. Which suits me fine! The view from the office is better, for one thing - my 'birds seen from <i>my</i> window' list stands at 16, (it's a small window at the back of the building) including great spotted woodpecker and sparrowhawk. There is always something going on, and for the first time in ages, I'm not working on my own. At the end of the day, I can wander over to the Visitor Centre, do a bit of bird watching and admire the work the Konik ponies are doing controlling the rough grass (and watch the first of the foals galloping about). <br />
<br />
It's pretty good, really.madhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09930707885045182012noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29600191.post-42775895978137614142013-06-28T10:56:00.001+01:002013-06-28T11:21:10.780+01:00Playing Catch-Up: The Times They Are A'ChangingWell, I've gone and done it again. Neglected the blog, I mean. So where were we?<br />
<br />
Oh yes, just back from holiday last year.... which was a funny time all round. My job was all up in the air - managed to find a big chunk of the funding to keep it going until 2015, but was having problems finding the 'match-funding'. And if you don't get the match-funding, you don't get ANY funding. As a result, from the end of June, I wasn't getting paid. I reckoned we'd be ok, though, for a few months, just so we could find that elusive match-funding.<br />
<br />
How wrong can you be?<br />
<br />
No match-funding.<br />
<br />
Add to that, our office was up for sale following the death of our landlady, so we really didn't know what was happening or where we were going to go...I have to admit, I was the least happy I have been for a long time. The crunch finally came when the office was sold, and we were required to give up our lease. Short notice to move and thirteen years (and more) of stuff to get moved or disposed of. Books, games, equipment, furniture... there was only one thing to do - call in the Rangers! With the knowledgeable eyes of the experienced packrats we all are, the environmental education community swept through the place like a swarm of...no, <i>not</i> locusts.<br />
<b>Wombles</b>.<br />
Who else do you know gets excited about a dustbin liner full of yoghurt pots? Or a full-scale cardboard albatross? <br />
Just about anything that could be salvaged for re-use was, and temporary storage was found for the stuff that was actually mine that I have no space for at home. Things that really <i>were</i> junk were taken away by the removal men to the tip. Freecycle took care of most of the furniture, and as the new owners moved in, we swept up the last of the dust and moved out.<br />
<br />
So. No office. Vastly reduced income. There comes a point where you have to draw a line under it and say 'It can't go on like this', and move on. I haven't exactly parted company with my old job - there are bits of it I still do as a volunteer - but the days of school talks and outings are past. <br />
<br />
What now?madhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09930707885045182012noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29600191.post-57192706322678906702012-08-20T16:43:00.001+01:002012-08-21T19:41:48.329+01:00Slow Boat Under the Hill<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
(Stourport Ring - Week
Two - 7<sup>th</sup> to 14<sup>th</sup> July 2012)</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
And the rain stopped,
and the sun shone, and we had to wear sunscreen, which made us all
sparkly – oh, the indignity! My birthday, so cards and pressies
with breakfast, and away to the south, heading for Stourport Junction
and the lock-mountain we have to climb to get to Birmingham.</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
Today I mostly did
steering, and not just through locks, which was fun, and rather
exciting, because somewhere between last year's debacle and this year
– and with the absence of too much breeze – it seems to have
gelled in my brain and I was mostly getting it right! Sunshine brings
out boats and joggers and cyclists and dogwalkers, and the towpath
was a busy place. Went back down through Bratch, where the
lock-keeper said that yesterday was probably the worst weather he'd
seen bar once, and the Severn is shut once again. I think we were
lucky.</div>
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<a href="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v436/madwaff/blog/Canals%202012/07k01.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v436/madwaff/blog/Canals%202012/07k01.jpg" width="320" /></a>Fields full of
black-and-white horses, (they were even sorted into spotted and
patchy) squirrels chasing up trees, a pheasant in a cornfield, and we
glittered on....</div>
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<br /></div>
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There has been
something odd happening along the Staffs & Worcs – someone
unknown has been leaving 'faces' ….on the ends of tree stumps, on
trees and on posts along the banks, two eyes, a nose and a mouth have
been nailed. It's not always on the towpath side either, so there is
a rumour it's a boater or even a BW man....</div>
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We water up at Greens'
Forge, get rid of some rubbish, and moor for the night below the
lock, conveniently close to the pub.</div>
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It wasn't an early
night, and we are pleased to manage an 0930 start, heading to the
junction with the Stourbridge Canal, where I hand over to Drew for
the turn (there are too many gongoozalers!). <a href="http://www.canalguide.co.uk/canals/britain_canal_dudley.htm" target="_blank">Stourton Locks</a> are
really pretty, the side pounds lie to the left as you ascend, giving
some lucky homeowners a lovely water feature at the bottom of their
gardens, complete with water lilies and reeds and fish. The water's
reasonably clear, and we can see lots of different sorts of fish
from small fry to larger ones that I think are dace. Drew hangs over
the side with his underwater camera, but only succeeds in recording
blurry weeds and water. </div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
A couple of kayakers
tell us that the Stourbridge arm is closed, because there is a
police incident. A narrowboater a bit further on says it's closed for
a couple of hours, so we moor up at Wordsley Junction (which is the
last place before we'd have to start up another lock flight) and Drew
goes to find out what's happening.
</div>
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<br /></div>
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He returned with the
news that it was open again, so we headed for Stourbridge, along a
more cluttered canal with lots of white waterlilies (and the
inevitable clogging of the propeller), running beside the old
glass-making works and old warehouses, past small boys fishing, and
the police incident tent (there had been a body in the canal
apparently) which was just packing up. The Town Wharf was crammed,
boats moored two and three deep, and no free spaces.
</div>
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<br /></div>
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With the help of a
bearded and bay-windowed gent from the Canal Trust, we turned in the
winding hole and moored beyond the bridge not far from the water
point. Had a reasonably early night so that the shore party could go
to the gift shop in the morning, and I did some necessary washing of
clothes.</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
Again, there are not
many boats moving on the canal – of the 4 we saw all day, naturally
2 were in the locks! The Stourbridge Flight (16 locks) has a
'mini-Bratch' partway up, and a very convenient off-licence at lock
9-10. Industrial elements creep into the scenery as we skirt round
the edges of Dudley; a bottle kiln at the Redhouse Glassworks,
boatbuilder's sheds, and Unknown Obstacles under the water. Now on
the Dudley No 1 Canal, we start up Delph Locks, which are
interesting- the run-off goes down a sort of sluice beside the lock,
pounds full of ducks and moorhens.
</div>
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<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
We clatter against
something submerged halfway up – a fisherman say helpfully 'that'll
be a trolley'. The last lock is under a road, and reminds us that we
are getting closer to Birmingham. We moor up at the Waterfront, a
large and rather flash development near the Merryhill shopping mall,
and check the weed hatch – plastic bags, weeds and a piece of old
climbing rope....</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<a href="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v436/madwaff/blog/Canals%202012/09k15.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v436/madwaff/blog/Canals%202012/09k15.jpg" width="320" /></a>The cafes and
restaurants seem rather subdued even after dark, and we have a
peaceful night, with pretty (although pretty wasteful)
colour-changing lights.</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
Morning brings the
inevitable fact that we need a pump-out of the waste tanks. We check
the guide books to see where we might get one – not a lot of
choice.</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
We're heading for the
<a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Netherton_Tunnel_Branch_Canal" target="_blank">Netherton Tunnel</a>, passing the end of the Dudley Tunnel at Park Head
Junction (you can only go through this by being towed by an electric
boat) and pootle along quietly. A couple of dredgers are stirring up
the canal, creating more mess than they seem to be removing.
Somewhere around here the anchors for the Titanic were assembled, and
the casings for Barnes-Wallis' bouncing bombs were made. A large
sunken rounded casing in the canal makes us think they may have done
a preliminary try out of the latter...</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
Looked to get a pumpout
at Withymoor Island, but they were closed (although you couldn't see
the sign until you'd practically moored up).</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
We water up at the
Bumblehole Nature Reserve, and head into the dank, dripping depths of
the Netherton Tunnel. This is probably the longest one we've done –
3027 yards – but is very straight, so you can always see an exit. I
do believe that tunnels are plotting against boaters, trying to turn
us into flowstone, drip by soggy, splattery drip....</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<a href="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v436/madwaff/blog/Canals%202012/10k18.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v436/madwaff/blog/Canals%202012/10k18.jpg" width="320" /></a>We emerge, blinking,
into the light on the Birmingham side of the hill, and make slow
progress through ranks of fishermen lining the banks. </div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
Hoped to get a pumpout
at Caggy's Yard, but had gone past the miniscule jetty before we
realised it was there. Hit the canal rush hour at Factory Locks –
interesting though, with working boats coming down the locks, with
unpowered barge in tow – this had to come down the lock behind its
powered unit, so we just sat and waited until it was clear, and then
alternated with several other working boats going through the locks,
resulting in close negotiations in small pounds! That done
successfully, I even navigated my first junction without mishap,
before the rain came on again.</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<a href="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v436/madwaff/blog/Canals%202012/10k28.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v436/madwaff/blog/Canals%202012/10k28.jpg" width="320" /></a> Made it into the Black Country Museum
moorings (no space but a water point, and a self-operated pumpout)
and Drew went to get a card for the machine.
</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
Lord High Panjandrum,
King of the Kharzi officiated, (with any number of bad puns and
off-colour song parodies) and then proved he is also the King of
Spin by turning our 68-footer in the smallest of spaces. Moored by a
small park, ready for a trip to the museum, and a welcome break from
travelling.</div>
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<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
I'm not going to detail
the museum – you can read all about it here on their <a href="http://www.bclm.co.uk/" target="_blank">website</a>. The
day was mostly sunny, with only a few showers, and very pleasant!</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
Thursday saw us back on
our way, wending our way through the maze of bridges and underpasses
and junctions that form the Birmingham Canal Navigations.
</div>
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<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
Under the M5, there are
odd juxtapositions of structures – footbridges to nowhere, <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Spon_Lane_Junction" target="_blank">Spon Lane Locks</a> (which are a listed building) the oldest working chambers
in the country, roads that run over canals and under railways....
</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<a href="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v436/madwaff/blog/Canals%202012/12k20.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v436/madwaff/blog/Canals%202012/12k20.jpg" width="240" /></a> </div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<a href="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v436/madwaff/blog/Canals%202012/12k26.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v436/madwaff/blog/Canals%202012/12k26.jpg" width="200" /></a> </div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
Summit Tunnel has a
tall archway, almost egg-shaped, and leads us to the last three locks
of our trip – <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Octagonal_BCN_canal_Toll_house_at_Smethwick_top_lock.jpg" target="_blank">Smethwick</a>. They only have one gate at each end, which
is unusual, and the downstream gates are Very Heavy – around
2080kg. Drew celebrates by breaking into a sprint to reach the last
gate.</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v436/madwaff/blog/Canals%202012/12k40.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v436/madwaff/blog/Canals%202012/12k40.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
We weave our way around
some of the side-loops of the BCN – the <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Soho_Loop" target="_blank">Soho Loop</a>, past the prison
at Winson Green and under Asylum Bridge, to good views over the city,
and round the <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Icknield_Port_Loop" target="_blank">Icknield Loop</a> where the BW boats are moored several
deep. </div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
Sliding under Sheepcote
Bridge we find ourselves a rare mooring spot opposite the National
Indoor Arena – and only a boat's length from where we moored in
2007. The place is FULL of boats - this is obviously where they've
all been hiding!
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v436/madwaff/blog/Canals%202012/12k44.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v436/madwaff/blog/Canals%202012/12k44.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
Drew changed from
boater into consumer, and headed off for the <a href="http://www.bullring.co.uk/" target="_blank">Bull Ring</a>, and the Apple
store, returning triumphant (if footsore) with a new MacBook... and
the rain set in overnight.</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
Shore party paid a
visit to the <a href="http://www.visitsealife.com/Birmingham/explore-our-creatures/" target="_blank">National Sea Life Centre</a> in the morning, before we set
off for our last night's mooring somewhere near Alvechurch. </div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
And in <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Gas_Street_Basin" target="_blank">Gas Street basin</a>, disaster struck. We had to pull into the side to let a tourist
boat past, and he took so long that we got hard alongside the quay.
Drew hopped off to give the nose a push, turned to come back to the
stern and slipped. Didn't get up. Made 'painful' noises.
</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
I managed to ge the
boat secured with the help of passers-by, and a very helpful lady
rang for an ambulance. Drew wasn't sure what he'd done, but he still
wasn't getting up. Many thanks to all the helpful people of
Birmingham, was were real stars in trying to sort us out. The
ambulance came, (gas and air) and diagnosed 'dislocated knee' – oh
hell. Needs to go for X-ray. We need to find a temporary mooring, as
we can't stay here. One helpful bloke finds another helpful bloke,
who goes to find us one. The ambulance crew help Drew up to sit him
in the chair to take him to the ambulance and – pop – the kneecap
goes back in. It's gone in right, so there's no need for the X-ray or
the hospital, which is a relief, so he's signed off and – after
profuse thanks to the folks who helped – we can go. </div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v436/madwaff/blog/Canals%202012/13k12.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v436/madwaff/blog/Canals%202012/13k12.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
Driving is its own
distraction, and Drew takes the helm again to take us down to
Alvechurch, by<a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Cube_%28building%29" target="_blank"> the Cube</a> and the University, through the Wast Hills
Tunnel, past Kings Norton Junction and the reservoirs at Lower
Bittell. We meet quite a number of obviously new-to-it boaters, all
heading for Birmingham, albeit erratically!</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<a href="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v436/madwaff/blog/Canals%202012/13k16.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v436/madwaff/blog/Canals%202012/13k16.jpg" width="320" /></a> </div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
Mooring for the night
isn't easy, and it's a disturbed night, followed by an early morning
of packing up and cleaning out, before we reach the yard at
Tardebigge once more. The Anglo-Welsh guys help us moor and assist
with hauling our gear to the car, and we make the weird transition
from 4 mph back up to motorway speeds. All get safely home, knees
nothwithstanding. I guess if it had to happen, it happened at about
the 'best' place it could – after all the locks, and where we
weren't in the middle of nowhere.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v436/madwaff/blog/Canals%202012/14k01.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v436/madwaff/blog/Canals%202012/14k01.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
Need to start planning
next year. A few changes in the wind...</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v436/madwaff/fort/phlogging%20July%2012/31.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v436/madwaff/fort/phlogging%20July%2012/31.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
Just for fun, my journal cover, <i>above</i>, and as usual, a map of our travels can be found <a href="https://maps.google.com/maps/ms?msid=217891052615460891424.0004a928ce9c825b88ea7&msa=0&ll=52.409121,-2.095642&spn=0.470807,1.121979" target="_blank">here</a>! </div>
madhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09930707885045182012noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29600191.post-46435432927892684562012-08-20T16:13:00.001+01:002012-08-20T16:43:41.810+01:00Slow Boat Up the Severn<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
(Stourport Ring - Week
One - 30<sup>th</sup> June to 6<sup>th</sup> July)</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
We seem to have got
into a habit of getting a bigger boat each year....although nb
'Silver Dove' is supposed to be the same class as last year's nb
'Lady Carol', she's actually three feet longer. No idea why! There is
a bit more at the stern for sitting, which pleased Mum, and more at
the front too, which was nice.
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v436/madwaff/blog/Canals%202012/001k1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v436/madwaff/blog/Canals%202012/001k1.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
There are a few other
differences in fit-out; for one, she's the mirror layout, and
secondly – she doesn't have a hatch, which is a little bit of a
shame! However, given the weather, it would probably have been closed
most of the time!
</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
For it has been wet...</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
Exceedingly wet.</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
A month or so ago,
there were closures of canals to conserve water. When we picked up
'Dove', the man at Tardebigge Wharf said that the Severn had been
closed to traffic because of flooding. Several boats that had gone
out on week-long trips had gone down to Worcester and had then just
come back, unable to complete the Stourport Ring. With a fortnight,
we stood a better chance of being able to wait until conditions
improved. Well, we hoped so!</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<a href="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v436/madwaff/blog/Canals%202012/01k1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v436/madwaff/blog/Canals%202012/01k1.jpg" width="320" /></a>Going clockwise, the
trip starts with a tunnel, and the Tardebigge Locks – all 29 of
them. Not exactly an enticing prospect for the first evening, so with
fingers crossed we aimed for a spot just downstream of the Top Lock
for an overnight mooring. One soggy tunnel and our first lock later,
and we found a spot with no trouble at all. Which struck me as a
little odd, unless everyone else had just given up on going up the
river...</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
It took us five hours
to get down the Tardebigge, refining our locking technique and making
sure my steering was up to scratch (or not-scratch, rather), and a
late lunch was followed by the 6 Stoke Locks, and 6 Astwood Locks.
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v436/madwaff/blog/Canals%202012/01k2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v436/madwaff/blog/Canals%202012/01k2.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
Six miles, 41 locks,
and we are 290 feet lower than last night! Fortunately, a lot of the
locks were set in our favour, so we didn't have to do a lot of
waiting for them to fill. The scenery is rural, fields, trees, sheep
and cows, a distant hilltop manor house and regular chiffchaffs
calling from the trees. For regular followers of our travels, the
first 'tree-I've-been-dragged-through' of the holiday was an oak.
There were some rather nice lock-keepers' cottages, including one
with the most gloriously scented pale pink roses over the door, which
wafted waves of perfume as I descended into the depths of the lock.
The towpath was very busy, with dogwalkers, cyclists, hikers singly
and in groups, one lady on a mobility scooter carrying a bargepole
like a jouster's lance, who was working locks in a most peculiar
manner, kids, parents, old folks, a British Waterways man on a quad
bike - but on the canal, there were very few boats. The pub at
Hanbury Wharf was practically empty, according to Drew. Most odd.</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
Incidentally – there
are, as we know, horse and dog 'whisperers'. We suspect that Mum may
secretly be a 'duck mumbler'.... </div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<a href="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v436/madwaff/blog/Canals%202012/03k05.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v436/madwaff/blog/Canals%202012/03k05.jpg" width="320" /></a>The canal south of
Hanbury is quite narrow, a result of a profligation of reeds and many
overhanging trees, which makes for things getting interesting when
passing/meeting the few other boats on the water (one guy said to us,
as we moved aside to let him go by, 'looks like you're mowing the
lawn!' - he, of course, had the clear water...). The rain came down
hard as we headed for Worcester, and despite hats and ponchos
sluicing the water off us, it still managed to find its way down
necks and sleeves and soaked up trouser legs. Didn't make sense to
stop for lunch and dry out between sets of locks only to get soggy
again, so we pushed on, to an overnight mooring in the security of
Worcester Marina, a shore party expedition to the supermarket, and
investigations on the state of the river.</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
The following morning,
with reports that things were OK, we set off through the city. Quite
interesting, with Civil War connections.and bridges decorated with
pikes and helmets.</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<a href="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v436/madwaff/blog/Canals%202012/03k09.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v436/madwaff/blog/Canals%202012/03k09.jpg" width="320" /></a>Diglis Basin is really
rather posh – lots of warehouse conversions and waterfront
apartments- and there are two broad beam locks leading to the river,
which can take two narrowboats at a time. Naturally, there were two
going down ahead of us, so the assistance of a helpful BW man in
operating the huge gates was very welcome. The water gauge was at
amber, but only just, so it looked reasonable.</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<a href="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v436/madwaff/blog/Canals%202012/03k12.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v436/madwaff/blog/Canals%202012/03k12.jpg" width="240" /></a> </div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
We took a big sweeping
turn out onto the river, and pointed ourselves upstream. The river
was quite smooth and reasonably calm, with no signs of debris coming
downstream, and the city waterfront past the cathedral was lovely.
</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
Against the current we
were making around 3.5 miles an hour, compared to craft coming the
other way, which must have been doing around 8 mph! Beyond the edge
of Worcester, past the rowing clubs, the banks were thickly wooded,
and it took only a small stretch of the imagination to turn them into
rainforest sweeping down to the edge of an Amazonian tributary... the
weather added some verisimilitude to the fantasy!</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<a href="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v436/madwaff/blog/Canals%202012/03k15.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v436/madwaff/blog/Canals%202012/03k15.jpg" width="320" /></a>There are three locks
on this stretch of the Severn; Bevere, Holt and Lincomb; huge caverns
of concrete with automatic gates, operated by lock-keepers. The
boater is guided in by a series of signal lights; you slip a rope
(fore and aft) around a steel cable fixed into the side of the lock,
which stops you rattling about like a pea in an oil drum, the gates
close and you rise swiftly to the top. The gates open and you head on
your way; it's all very efficient.</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
Huge weirs run beside
the locks, protected by floating barriers. I stayed up front to deal
with the ropes, and got a whole new perspective on the river, amidst
the swallows and sand martins swooping past on either side. We
spotted a couple of kingfishers on the way – well, Drew and I did,
Mum as usual was looking the other way.... </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v436/madwaff/blog/Canals%202012/03k27.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v436/madwaff/blog/Canals%202012/03k27.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
We pulled into the
pontoon at Stourport so Drew could check out the entrance to the
basin. A very, very narrow set of two staircase locks, with an
awkwardly angled pound between them (you can just pass another boat,
but I was glad that I didn't have to!) adding weight to my theory
that if anyone can put a camel through the eye of a needle, it's a
narrowboat wrangler! Handed over control to Drew to pick our way
through the marina, all pontoons and moorings and boats, and people
trying to be helpful telling us where we needed to go, which
distracted us slightly and made it harder to get where we already
knew we needed to be!
</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
This was followed by
ditherers at the waterpoint (if you pull up alongside a pontoon, and
don't say anything, it does look more like mooring-up than 'we're
waiting for the water point', you know, folks).</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
Now on the Staffs &
Worcs Canal, we moored up for the night just by the Black Star pub,
and were set upon by a swan. Her mate and cygnets took no notice of
us, (looked more embarrassed than anything, to tell truth) but she
worked her way along the full length of the hull attacking with beak
and feet and wings, until Drew finally gave her a gentle shove-off
with the blunt end of the boat-hook. She had another go when we left
in the morning, and I can only think she could see her reflection in
the paint; there was certainly a little less paint when we made our
escape!</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<a href="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v436/madwaff/blog/Canals%202012/04k10.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v436/madwaff/blog/Canals%202012/04k10.jpg" width="320" /></a>Kidderminster is rather
bland; all the old carpet factories have been replaced by the boring
boxes of modern industrial estates. The lock rises from an underpass
below a roundabout into the environs of the town church, which is
rather nice, and there are handy supermarkets beside the canal,which
we availed ourselves of. Naturally, when a shore party is sent out,
it rains heavily!</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
North of the town, the
rural creeps back in, lush and green with some huge trees, and much
of the canal is cut through the native sandstone, which appears here
and there in waterscarred outcrops.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v436/madwaff/blog/Canals%202012/04k05.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v436/madwaff/blog/Canals%202012/04k05.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
The weather improved
the following day, which helped with the 18 locks we went through. We
decided that, having got up river without losing any time, we had
leeway to take a side-diversion up towards Aldersley, which lies at
the bottom of the Wolverhampton Flight; we passed through these on
our Birmingham trip in 2007, and it's always nice to complete a
circuit!</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v436/madwaff/blog/Canals%202012/04k12.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v436/madwaff/blog/Canals%202012/04k12.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
The sandstone outcrops
grew larger, miniature cliffs overhung with ivy and ferns, and the
land remains green and lush and – generally – empty. We did see
herds of black and white horses, though, which is always nice, and a
canal trip requirement, and the locks, although spread out, remained
individual and interesting. Botterham is a small staircase of 2,
Bumblehole is below a small slanted bridge and is itself slightly on
the squint, so is interesting to get into, and then comes <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bratch" target="_blank">Bratch</a>!</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<a href="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v436/madwaff/blog/Canals%202012/P1010541.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v436/madwaff/blog/Canals%202012/P1010541.jpg" width="240" /></a> </div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
It's 3 locks, and
fascinating. It looks like a staircase, but it isn't; each chamber
has gates top and bottom, with a pound between the locks. But the
pounds are tiny – or appear so – only the width of the overhead
footbridge, and not long enough for a boat! Apparently the magic
happens behind the hedge, where there are side pounds and culverts
which feed the water through.
</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
The lock keeper (who
has a rather attractive octagonal office) keeps you right about which
paddles to raise/lower and which gates to open – from a driving
point of view, it IS like a staircase, as you go directly from one
lock into the next. Ended the day at a rather soggy mooring near
Wightwick, and first use of the mooring-spikes, which put into action
my patent mooring-spike markers/buffers – tennis balls cut to fit
over the top of the spike and fixed on with cable ties. Works well,
but I don't think it's had the 'passing dog' test yet.</div>
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<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
Today we discovered
'Ground Whales' - they lie in wait below the ground paddles of a lock
and blow out – 'whoosh' - to soak the unsuspecting
lock-wrangler....
</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
The seventh day of the
trip saw the heavens open, and so much water fell that I'm surprised
we didn't see a passing Ark. Serious rain. We did 3 miles, and 3
locks, turned round at Aldersley junction, went back through the last
lock, and decided we'd had enough. Moored on a muddy bank beside a
growing puddle, and spent an afternoon drying out and generally
loafing. We're halfway through the holiday, and although there has
been some decent weather, the general trend is sogginess.
</div>
<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
madhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09930707885045182012noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29600191.post-91769427677958096662012-08-20T15:25:00.000+01:002012-08-20T20:47:09.544+01:00Let there be Light...Having been away from home for quite a while over the middle of summer, I was fully expecting handwritten notes all over my post when I got home, requesting that I do some urgent pruning if I wanted to keep getting letters delivered; oddly, this hadn't happened - I think we may have a different postman - but a combination of a lot of rain followed by sunshine had resulted in the garden looking more like a jungle, and the honeysuckle rampaging wildly all over the window.<br />
<br />
Inside, it was like the Twilight Zone. The living room was more a living <i>gloom</i>, with nary a ray of sunlight penetrating the foliage. Think 'Sleeping Beauty's castle'....<br />
<br />
After a week in the dark - I mean, is it <i>normal</i> to need to put the light on at nine in the morning in summer? - I decided that the time had come to do some chopping back, bees and scented flowers notwithstanding. Of course, as soon as I made the decision, it rained, and the entire thing became a dripping, sodden mass.<br />
Job postponed.<br />
<br />
This morning, with the sun shining and having made an early start anyway to take the car in to the garage for much-needed attention, the task of 'hunt the window' could be put off no longer. Secateurs in hand, I made a start, and was soon covered in twiggy bits, leaves and the occasional snail. The more I chopped into the overgrowth, the more snails I found, clinging to the undersides of leaves or swarming up tendrils. When I reached the window at last, I discovered that I had been demolishing a veritable snail hotel, as small reproachful eyestalks peered at me from the corners of the frame. Several of them slithered off into darker corners, in an obvious huff.<br />
Standing in a mound of chopped-off foliage, I figured I'd upset them enough for now, and started to gather it up to put it in the bin. A snail waved at me from the bundle in my hands... so now I had to go through the whole pile and extract the residents.<br />
<br />
Now, the bin is full, and there is light in the living room again.<br />
But the snails are <i>not</i> happy with me.madhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09930707885045182012noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29600191.post-75791474106640930242012-08-17T16:02:00.001+01:002012-08-17T17:25:56.421+01:00SUTS WarsAt first, I thought it was something to do with the hall floor being a hard surface. Whenever Mum went out of the living room, there was a louder step, almost as if she was stamping on the floor. Then I became aware that there was also a pause associated with it, something deliberate. I didn't say anything...<br />
'I suppose you're wondering why I stamp on the floor when I go into the hall,' she said one night.<br />
'It had occurred to me.'<br />
'It's the spider.'<br />
'Spider.'<br />
'Under the stairs.'<br />
'There's a Spider Under The Stairs.'<br />
'Yes, in the hall cupboard. It lurks there, and sneaks out when it thinks I'm not looking. So I stamp at it every time I go out and it goes back under the stairs.'<br />
'Ah. What's the spider done to you?'<br />
'It's <i>lurking</i>. With intent.'<br />
This seemed a little harsh to me. <br />
So I've called it Suts, and speak nicely to it whenever I pass by.<br />
Karmic balance, and all that. <br />
<br />madhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09930707885045182012noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29600191.post-18792896297749470072012-08-02T19:16:00.000+01:002012-08-02T19:28:21.235+01:00Slow Boat Round Four Counties<b>2<sup>nd</sup> to 16<sup>th</sup>
July 2011.</b><br />
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br />
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
I've left this too long, and I need to
catch up, so I don't intend to blether on so much about our more
recent canal adventures... you wish!</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
Summer 2011 started back at Great
Haywood, from where we set out on the original '<a href="http://wyverbird.blogspot.co.uk/2007/12/slow-boat-to-birmingham.html" target="_blank">Slow Boat Under Birmingham</a>' trip;
a different boat, though – this year we have 'Lady Carol' (or
Elsie, as I generally call her when swearing at her to go round a
tight bend), 65 ft long with a hatch in her side through which
shopping can be passed and swans can look for food, a freezer and a
microwave, and some rather comfortable reclining chairs. Some of this
year we'll – almost inevitably when the canal system is involved -
be covering old ground (or water), as we follow the Four Counties
Ring in a clockwise direction.<br />
<br />
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</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
The first couple of days saw us
skirting through suburbia, south of Stafford, where there is a mix of
private moorings, back gardens, pubs and hotels and holiday
villages, punctuated by ducks and a good number of rather deep locks.
We decided to practise the 'stick the nose on the gate' system for
going through locks, which keeps the boat reasonably stable with a
minimum of engine revving and forward and back motion. In an 'up'
lock, it keeps the rudder from getting bashed on the downstream gate,
and in a 'down' lock, it makes sure you don't get hung up on the
cill. You do have to watch for the fenders getting caught, but a
sharp pair of eyes on the forward gate helps.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<a href="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v436/madwaff/Canals%202011/P7040705.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v436/madwaff/Canals%202011/P7040705.jpg" width="320" /></a>An overnight stop at Gailey allowed for
a shore party trip to the <a href="http://www.geograph.org.uk/photo/599197" target="_blank">Gailey Round Tower</a>, before
meandering through flat and windy land studded with motorways, the
summit pound of the Staffs and Worcs Canal. By the outskirts of
Wolverhampton, it becomes a bit more interesting, with the narrows of
Pendeford Rockin' - only wide enough for one boat, so we went
through in convoy – and the tight entrance to the Shropshire Canal
at Autherley – narrow, under abridge and straight into a stop lock!
Watered up just after the lock, and headed on through a quiet
evening to find a mooring for the night, passing over Watling Street
by means of the Stretton Aqueduct, through some deep and heavily wooded
cuttings, full of bugs and badger diggings, to finally tie up at
Wheaton Aston.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
The following day was interesting and,
on occasion, a wee bit dramatic. The first feature was Cowley Tunnel –
only 81 yards, originally longer but it had kept
collapsing (reassuring!) - the southern portal has brickwork, but as
you go deeper it becomes a cut through the natural sandstone, which
results in a rather lumpy and irregular profile (of both tunnel and
any careless boater), and there are several places where it looks as
if chunks have fallen from the roof....</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<a href="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v436/madwaff/Canals%202011/P7050829.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v436/madwaff/Canals%202011/P7050829.jpg" width="320" /></a>A series of embankments carries us
along, with distant views of the Wrekin, a faint blue rise on the
horizon. Infant Yggdrasils tower over us in the deep cuttings, and we
try to shed the convoy of boats – we pull ahead when it's clear but
they catch us when we slow for moored boats. It rains, just to be
helpful. Into the depths of Grub Street Cutting, we slip under Bridge
39 - supposedly haunted by a black, monkey-like creature, though we
see nothing odder than ourselves – and head onward to Shebdon
Wharf, where milk from the surrounding dairies used to be collected
for the Cadbury's works.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
The most impressive part of today's
journey is through Woodseaves Cutting. It's around 2 miles long,
almost sheer-sided with some dramatic evidence of recent rockslides.
It feels like a trip through another world, travelling on tick-over
so as not to start any more rockslides, and conversation is in hushed
tones. Drew and I speculate what may lie beyond the trees, and being
us, the speculation is of the ghoulish kind.... It <i>LOOMS.</i>. I can
think of no other suitable word. Sheer rockfaces on either side,
draped with long, liana-tendrils of ivy. Lush ferns spring from
cracks in the rocks, and out of a grey mist a bridge towers overhead,
a high arch, mostly concealed by trees, vaulting across the gap. It
feels like passing the Argonath to go beneath it. The towpath is
narrow, and so wet as to have duckweed.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
We emerge at Tyrley Wharf slightly
dazed, and decide we may as well go down the locks tonight. As Drew
goes to open the Top Lock, the heavens open again. Gongoozaling
boaters head for cover, and we send Mother below as we start down. At
Lock 4, Drew points to some black and yellow tape on the lower gate –
the handrail is damaged. 'Think I'll go round!' he says, rather than
do his usual nifty hop between the two gates. Then he looks again.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
'The notice says “Wasps' Nest On
Gate...”' he says, '...try not to hit it, I think!'</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
Right.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
I steer slowly in, and sit at the top
end of the lock, just clear of the cill.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
He comes back again.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
'Another notice. “because of the rock
shelf, don't moor in the bottom pound. Set the lock and drive
straight from one into the other.”'</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
Okay... so we go down Lock 4, and I sit
in there, wondering about wasps, and hidden underwater rocky shelves,
while he goes to set and open the next lock.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
After a while I spot the nest – it's
about the size of my fist, and in the hollow centre of the steel
beam of the right-hand lock gate – when the gate is closed, it will
be nice and snug inside the gate.<br />
Right now, it's just about head
height.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
Drew starts raising the second paddle
on the gate below, so I decide it's time for a cautious exit and
cross the pound into the bottom lock. The sides of the pound are
shallow and shelving,where the whole thing has been cut from the
surrounding rock. He goes back to (carefully) close the wasps in for
the night, and then we go through the bottom lock. There's a very
strong surge of water just below the lock, which has carved out a
hollow in the rock wall opposite – probably by flinging narrowboats
at it, if our experience is anything to go by!<br />
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</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
We moor up at Market Drayton, and I
manage to splash hot oil up my arm while cooking dinner – ouch! The
domestic battery is also looking iffy, possibly not charging
properly....<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
After a replenishment run in the
morning, we set off to do the Adderley Flight, and then moor up at
the top of Audlem, ready to do that tomorrow. The shrieking spectre
of Betton Cutting fails to show up, and it's another day of greenery
and cows. The 240v circuit trips briefly while cooking supper. I
think it's the alternator, linked to the panel light that doesn't
come on at start and stop engines (my car did something similar.)
Drew thinks that isn't logical. We shall see.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<a href="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v436/madwaff/Canals%202011/DSCF3250.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v436/madwaff/Canals%202011/DSCF3250.jpg" width="320" /></a>Next morning is Audlem Locks and my
birthday. The locks are quite fun, apart from the chance of getting
ducklings stuck in the locks with the boat – with no wish to make
duckling pate, we have to keep shooing them out. We wanted to stop at
the 'Shroppie Fly' pub, but the length of the boat plus others'
shabby mooring means it's a no-go; if we have one major gripe (apart
from people passing moored boats at too fast a speed), it's poor
mooring – we often see gaps of 10 ft here and there between boats
who have tied up one bollard apart – if they'd tie up with more
thought, more boats could get into the short-term moorings. Ah well.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
13 locks later, we tie up for a
relaxing evening, with all but one of the flight done, and settle
down to watch the first of the last Harry Potter movies, until the
240v circuit trips out completely....
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
We called the boatyard just before we
set out, to let them know about the battery, and organised to meet at
Hack Green, where the shore party want to visit the (not so secret)
<a href="http://www.hackgreen.co.uk/" target="_blank">Secret Bunker</a>.While we were waiting
for the rain to stop, the engineer turned up, and – YES! – it was
the alternator. One small connector rusted through and requiring
replacement, and all is back to normal, and off they went to see the
bunker. (I think I've seen enough bunkers to last a lifetime!)</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
Now, I am aware that we do come home
with some odd souvenirs from time to time, but I think a training
version of a geiger counter may be the weirdest one yet....</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<a href="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v436/madwaff/Canals%202011/DSCF3298.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v436/madwaff/Canals%202011/DSCF3298.jpg" width="320" /></a>From a mooring at Hurleston Junction
(by the turn onto the Llangollen Canal) we went through familiar
waters along the Middlewich Branch. The chandlers at Venetian Marina
has (oddly) turned into an antiques shop, but we could still get ice
creams, and continue on our way to Middlewich. The exit onto the
Trent and Mersey was congested, and followed by a narrow tunnel under
a bridge and gongoozaler scrutiny into Kings Lock.<br />
<br />
<a href="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v436/madwaff/Canals%202011/DSCF3305.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v436/madwaff/Canals%202011/DSCF3305.jpg" width="320" /></a><br />
Tomorrow we're
hoping to do 'Heartbreak Hill' (aka the Cheshire Locks) so a
mooring near Wheelock is planned. The landscape is an odd mixture of
rural and brownfield, where demolition rubble waits something to
replace it, and an odd works producing great heaps of white powder –
world's most obvious cocaine factory?</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
Sunday is a day of locks, in
sunshine,showers and a downright downpour! Most of the locks are
doubles, with a second chamber parallel to the first. This doesn't
necessarily mean the second chamber is working, of course – one was
full of concrete, several had missing gates, and one was a veritable
nature reserve with meadowsweet and moorhens.<br />
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</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
We set off early, hoping to get moored
somewhere by the Harecastle Tunnel, and actually made quite a decent
shot of it, with the help of a very keen bloke who whizzed along on
his bike ahead of his boat and wife (and son, who rapidly lost
enthusiasm for cycling). He was eager to get into the locks once we
cleared, so aided with paddles and gates until the rain set in, where
we lost him. Hoped to do some shopping around Lock 41, but it being
1615hrs on a Sunday and this being England, for some obscure reason
the shops were shut, so we decided to go up and moor nearer the
tunnel. The water is murky here – very orange, with iron particles
from the water under the hill. As we ventured into the underworld
below the various rail and road and foot bridges, we were met by the
tunnel keeper – a very nice bloke – who said that for preference,
he wouldn't moor up here, and suggested we went back a wee bit by the
private moorings. If we were at the tunnel for 0730, he'd get us
through with the first batch in the morning.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
So we went backwards.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
Sort of.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
Narrowboats don't really like going
backwards for any distance. Combine this with a strong water flow,
and deep silt on the bottom, and you have the recipe for an awful lot
of swearing from Drew.<br />
And profligate use of the bargepole.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
When we reached the tunnel (in time)
there was already a boat ahead of us, and several more behind; nice
tunnel keeper gave us a full briefing before setting us off into the
darkness of the <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Harecastle_Tunnel" target="_blank">Harecastle Tunnel</a>. It's 2926 yards
long, and takes around 45 minutes to traverse...unless you are behind
a boat which is zig-zagging, bouncing off the walls, coming to a
virtual halt (looked like a group photo session), letting the
children drive, dropping to tick over, hitting the 'bollards' in the
tunnel, and causing everyone else to slow-speed-slow-stop as we
followed. In some parts of the tunnel there isn't a lot of head room,
which made things extra-interesting.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
Breakfast and coffee was served at the
first opportunity once we were back in the light, and an
exceptionally helpful birdwatcher gave us directions to the
supermarket, so our supply hunter/gatherer was sent off.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
This side of the tunnel, we are in 'The
Potteries' (Stoke-on-Trent seems to be an amalgam of towns rather
than a place unto itself); sadly, much of the industrial heritage
seems to have been lost to demolition – plaques mark the sites of
famous potteries, and there are a few bottle kilns but seemingly
little else. Got a pump-out at the Black Prince yard near Etruria,
before heading up the Caldon Canal, which begins with some
interesting wiggles and a sudden 2-chamber staircase lock, with huge
gates. Planet Lock, which follows, is a mere baby at 3ft 10ins rise.
The canal wends through the tended greenery of Hanley Park, beginning
in a very urban setting, becoming quite posh with some nice waterside
flats, before turning shabby-industrial and finally rural again, and
all very winding and narrow.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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After lunch, we dealt with the lift
bridge, which like the one on the Llangollen, requires the boater to
stop traffic. How a solo boater manages we still cannot figure, as
you're on the wrong side with no way down to your boat – so having
lifted the bridge, how do you get your boat through? Drew did
traffic control, and I made a rather nervous pick-up on the far side
once he'd lowered the bridge.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
Stopped overnight at Milton, for a
visit to the Abacus bookshop in the morning. Which is apparently
excellent! While we were tied up, we encountered a passing family
with a very enthusiastic small boy, who was getting excited over the
boats. On seeing us, we heard 'Ooh! What a big boat!' and then, as he
looked through the window at Mum, '..and it's got a GRANNY on it!!'
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
Cue collapse of crew....</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
The locks on the Caldon are stone
rather than brick-lined, and there are a lot of mason's marks on the
stones, which I decided to 'collect' as we went. Some stones are
intricately worked, with patterned surfaces, yet the spend most of
their time underwater. I can't imagine the same happening today. On
advice from the bookshop owner, we took the main branch,encountering
some annoyances in the form of a lot of insects (Drew took up
'cleg-dancing') and one Important Individual who stole the bottom
lock at Hazelhurst, wasting an entire lock-full, despite shouts from
other boats....prat!</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<a href="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v436/madwaff/Canals%202011/P7121305.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v436/madwaff/Canals%202011/P7121305.jpg" width="320" /></a>Past the<a href="http://www.churnet-valley-railway.co.uk/" target="_blank"> Churnet Valley Railway</a>, with one
engine in steam as we passed, and a forlorn dredger parked in the
river where it met the canal, risking getting overturned if the river
rose. A gorgeous, sunny evening, and as we couldn't get a mooring at
the Holly Bush, pushed on up to the Black Lion at Consall Forge. We
can't go much further, as the boat is too big to go through Froghall
Tunnel, so we picked our way carefully past weir bridges, railway
lines and under the platform to the winding hole by Flint Mill Lock.
Moored below the limekilns at Consall, and Drew went to the pub,
returning with a carry-out of 'Black Hole', a rather molasses-y dark
brew.<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<a href="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v436/madwaff/Canals%202011/P7131486.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v436/madwaff/Canals%202011/P7131486.jpg" width="320" /></a>Southwards now, despite a small
sandbar, and a kingfisher by the Knypersley feeder, and the efforts
of the 'Martha Gingers' who dillied and dallied about in front of us,
going Very Slowly, wrapping themselves in the foliage (which cleverly
meant that we ended up operating the lift bridge again) and then
messing up going through the staircase...this combined with a bloke
who drove straight into the bottom of the staircase without checking
if anyone was queuing to come down... result was an hour on a boring
bank waiting, and staring at the backs of terrace houses.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
Left out of the Caldon, into the top of
the Stoke Flight (a Very Deep Lock). The canal goes under the main
Crewe-Stafford railway line, where the metal siding on the bridge has
been shaped to allow lock operations, and alongside the A5007 which
leads to the M6. Chugging alongside the rush-hour traffic and
backed-up lorries is rather odd. Then we were out again into a more
rural setting, and a gorgeous blue-sky-and-sunshiney evening, the
sunlight through the leaves and long grass, gleaming off the towers
of the incinerator....<br />
</div>
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<a href="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v436/madwaff/Canals%202011/DSCF3346.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="133" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v436/madwaff/Canals%202011/DSCF3346.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>
<a href="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v436/madwaff/Canals%202011/pot.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="149" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v436/madwaff/Canals%202011/pot.jpg" width="200" /></a>Next morning it was off through
Trentham Lock to moor up for a visit to the <a href="http://m.wedgwoodvisitorcentre.com/" target="_blank">Wedgwood Factory</a>, and a selection of
trophies – small black bowls, a Turkish coffee cup, a lovely
blue-bead bracelet, and a couple of creations, Drew having made a
small blue beaker and decorated a flower pot, both of which will be
sent on when fired.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
More locks through the afternoon, and a
mooring close to the pub.<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<a href="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v436/madwaff/Canals%202011/P7151628.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v436/madwaff/Canals%202011/P7151628.jpg" width="320" /></a>The plan to moor for the last night at
a decent pub, followed by a short hop on the last morning came to
naught, a combination of shabby mooring, too many boats, and a long
queue at Weston Lock following a technical hitch culminating in a
total lack of mooring between our overnight stop and the Great
Haywood base. We could have gone through to Tixall Wide, but it
seemed that everyone else had the same idea, so Drew went down to the
boatyard to see if we could get in there.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
Which we could.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
So we did.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
Easier said than done, admittedly, with
a lot of traffic at the junction, but thanks to the 'Ezekiel Dane' we
got round and moored up for the final time.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
Very odd, being in the yard overnight,
but at least there wasn't the need for an early start!
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
136 miles, 135 locks, 8 lift bridges, 2
tunnels....</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
As usual, a map of our trip is <a href="https://maps.google.com/maps/ms?msid=217891052615460891424.000498b63d6f58b37435d&msa=0" target="_blank">here</a>!</div>
</div>madhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09930707885045182012noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29600191.post-17794212332675189662012-05-27T00:52:00.001+01:002012-05-27T00:53:51.205+01:00Litter and LobstersThe weather has been - to say the least - changeable recently, with places that ten days ago had four inches of snow now basking in temperatures in the high 20s...yesterday we had the same temperature here in the north-east corner of Scotland as in Darwin, Australia.<br />
Which meant that, for once, our spring beach clean-up wasn't a total washout! Eight valiant volunteers, armed with litter-pickers and rubbish bags, set about doing a wee bit of tidying up at Fraserburgh. I was in charge of refreshments, explaining what we were doing to the bemused general public, and recording all the various items found : in two and a half hours, we got at least 990 individual items, including 13 disposable barbecues. Two-thirds of what was collected was 'visitor related' rubbish (i.e. not thrown-overboard/fishing waste/sewage-related...you get the idea). <br />
It was also a great opportunity for a spot of people watching... The sudden shock of the sunshine must go straight to the brains of folks up here, immediately disabling all thoughts of sensible clothing and sunscreen - the skimmed-milk skin of the average punter is immediately exposed to the UV rays to the greatest extent possible. Which results in a preponderance of lobster-pinkness as the pallid flesh is rapidly grilled to the broiling-point. I found myself wincing at the thought of how they would feel tomorrow, and slightly self-satisfied that I had blathered on the new Factor 30, half-price and supposedly with a 'golden sheen'. Being of a pallid persuasion, I need all the help I can get.<br />
Crowds (well, in <i>our</i> terms "crowds" - at least 100 people!) made their way to the beach, with all the accoutremonts of the British holidaymaker - windbreaks, buckets and spades, frisbees and beach games tumbling out of overpacked bags, trolley-loads of beer and barbecue equipment (I feel our clean-up efforts will be un-noticeable by tomorrow morning), and over-excited children. There was a background soundtrack of screams as said children ran into the sea, to suddenly halt as the water reached a critical level and yelp 'IT'S COLD!!!!' before running back to the beach, where their doting parents pointed them back at the water to repeat the exercise. They breed them tough up here. This is the North Sea, after all, and it's only May.<br />
The cafe did a roaring trade. An idiot on a jet ski roared from one end of the bay to the other. Offshore, the crab boats went about their business, followed by hopeful gulls. Soggy, sandy, barefoot children trailed after harrassed parents back to the car park. <br />
I recorded the next sheet of findings on the laptop, looked at my arms to check I wasn't burning and made a Horrible Discovery. <br />
Far from a 'golden sheen,' the damn sunscreen makes your skin <i>sparkle</i>. I mean, really <i>glitter</i>. Like disco gel. Like a freakin' cut-price vampire.... I retreated into the deep shade of the van, and prayed for clouds....<br />
<br />
<br />madhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09930707885045182012noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29600191.post-65824532203796553092012-04-29T23:42:00.001+01:002012-04-29T23:43:48.161+01:00Just checking....Blogger's been messing about lately - lots of changes obviously designed to confuse and make things more difficult. (Bah, humbug!!) Can't say I like what they've done, but hey-ho, what difference does that make? So I'm just checking it still works!madhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09930707885045182012noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29600191.post-27683059512606070512011-05-15T16:59:00.006+01:002011-10-19T00:45:48.717+01:00Slow Boat on a Bonus<b>Day Fifteen: 17 July (Bonus Day One) Braunston to Yelvertoft.</b><br />
Originally, we'd have been handing the boat over at the time I'm writing this, but thanks to AW we're in <a href="http://www.braunstonmarina.co.uk/">Braunston Marina</a>, and the Shore Party have gone to the gift shop! It's locks today - and of course, after a blue and shiny start to the day, it's clouding over and the wind's getting up, just in time for us to do the getting-out-of-marina manoueuvre.<br />
Thoughts on the naming of boats... they seem to fall into several clear categories.<br />
: - the Name-Combo - either the names of the kids/grandkids (Brittany Lauren) or the owners (Philjean)<br />
: - the Traditional - three types, the 'work ethic' (Valiant, Warrior, Stalwart) and the floral (Gypsy Rose, Daisy) - or traditional girls' names like Martha and Ruby.<br />
: - The Alternative Lifestyle - Chillin', Far from the Madding Crowd, Second Chance... these sometimes spill over into...<br />
: - The Quirky - 'The Kid's Inheritance', 'Piston Broke' ...it goes on!<br />
Hire boats tend to have their own set - either class (Jupiter is 'Planet' class), yard - for example the 'Valley' boats, or the Viking ones which have Nordic names. Canaltime seem to be the most random, almost as if they've had a competition to name the boats - 'Wilsons Chaos' springs to mind!<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v436/madwaff/Canals%202010/boatsigns2010.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v436/madwaff/Canals%202010/boatsigns2010.jpg" width="500" /></a></div>We're moored next to 'Moriarty' at the moment, which I think comes under Quirky....<br />
Shore party returned triumphant with books, postcards and a couple of gorgeous brass miners' lamps, and we made an elegant departure to meet our time slot of 1000.<br />
Up the Braunston Flight, mostly in company with 'Daisy' - an old traditional boat which has wheels to control steering and engine. One of the locks had a cascade running over it ('short pound' said the Daisy skipper). We let them run ahead at Top Lock, and followed then through <a href="http://www.engineering-timelines.com/scripts/engineeringItem.asp?id=149">Braunston Tunnel</a> (2042 yards) - very uneven, and with some interesting features - air vents casting pools of light, an odd side-vent, a pipe feeding water in a stream into the canal, reflections and shadows from the boat lights. Quite spooky and strange, but not claustrophobic. As we finally came towards the tunnel's end, we could see movement - turned out to be a bat (probably Daubentons) hunting the last 50 yards of the tunnel. As we got nearer, it flew up onto the tunnel wall and hung there until we were halfway past, before letting go and zipping past our heads - light through the part-translucence of the wing membranes - to go back into the depths of the tunnel.<br />
Out into the light in a green cutting, and on across Braunston summit to Norton Junction. Kingfisher whizzed past, a flash of orange and electric blue (Mum was looking in the right direction for once, but still failed to see it despite my strangled squeak!) Tied up for lunch, then, after being battered by wake-wash for a while, went on to the <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Watford_Locks">Watford Staircase</a>. Now we're officially back in the north - Watford Gap Services are just a little way beyond the fence. The lock keeper is in charge here, so we waited in the queue, some boats up, some down before we can go up; with any luck we'd get through before the locks shut for the night at 1900. Drew went off to take photos.<br />
<br />
...well, that was an experience! A few hiccups further up were caused by an Important Personage who had a table booked for dinner in Braunston and thought He could start organising traffic- the lock keeper soon disabused him, and set him back up and out! We got through last one up (to His disgust, as we'd been there 10 minutes later than Him), and headed for Crick.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v436/madwaff/Canals%202010/july17.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="310" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v436/madwaff/Canals%202010/july17.jpg" width="500" /></a></div><br />
Crick Tunnel (1528 yards) is wet. Very drippy, lots of flowstone. Crick is full of marinas, and consequently full of boats, so we pushed on to overnight at Yelvertoft, opposite where they're creating yet another new marina - the whole area will be one big marina soon.<br />
<i>13 locks/13.5 miles/2 tunnels/Grand Union Canal, GUC Leicester Branch</i><br />
<br />
<b>Day Sixteen: 18 July (Bonus Day Two) Yelvertoft to Welford.</b><br />
A short day, across green farmland (sounds of peacocks amidst hanging willows) and a kingfisher that Mum DID manage to see this time!<br />
Went up the Welford Arm to the highest point of the GUC system - designed to bring water from the reservoirs to feed the canals. One small lock to go through (3 foot 6 inches), but a very odd set-up, with a narrow section almost like a half-lock before a 'pseudo-pound' and then the lock itself. It's a leafy backwater, with a lot of boats moored up the arm into the village. We turned at the marked winding hole and moored by the marina entrance - Drew went to investigate and found a few spaces higher up and another turning point - too late!<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v436/madwaff/Canals%202010/july18.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v436/madwaff/Canals%202010/july18.jpg" width="500" /></a></div><br />
As we started the tedium of packing, a pair of familiar trousers went past - Matt the Engineer, and his dog Woody; he stopped to see how we'd got on, and have a chat. Drew caught up with him later at the pub (he lives in the village) and bought him a beer or two; he also ran into Jane from the yard, who gave us a late pass to return the boat in the morning!<br />
<i>1 lock/11 miles/GUC Leicester Branch, GUC Welford Arm</i><br />
<b><br />
Day Seventeen: 19 July (Last Day) Welford to North Kilworth.</b><br />
Up and sorting by 0800, and heading for the yard by 0900, to return the boat at a reasonable time. One last, small lock (number 103 for the trip).<br />
Down to Welford Junction whilst cleaning sinks and sweeping floors, and the last three-quarters of a mile to North Kilworth, touching the wharf to tie up as the last breadloaf went into the crate. Unloaded reluctantly, chatted to Jane and Matt, and packed the car. The day turned hot and sunny as we drove home, not conducive to making the transition from 3-4 mph to 70 mph up the motorway<br />
It's done, for this year. <br />
<i>1 lock/3 miles/0 tunnels/GUC Welford Arm, GUC Leicester Branch</i><br />
I'll end with the usual collection of boat-and-bank dogs!<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v436/madwaff/Canals%202010/dogs2011.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v436/madwaff/Canals%202010/dogs2011.jpg" width="500" /></a></div>There's a Googlemap of where we went <a href="http://maps.google.com/maps/ms?ie=UTF8&hl=en&msa=0&msid=217891052615460891424.00048835d752f5884b9bd&ll=52.604716,-1.343079&spn=0.808983,2.243958&t=h&z=9">here</a>.madhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09930707885045182012noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29600191.post-33028107557509591192011-05-15T16:00:00.003+01:002012-06-24T00:51:02.373+01:00Slow Boat up the Junction<b>Day Thirteen: 15 July. Coventry to Brinklow.</b><br />
Drew went off to look at the centre of Coventry and the Cathedral , leaving Mum and me to sort ourselves out leisurely. Rain again, and very windy, which made getting out of the basin a somewhat awkward process, with a lot of backing-up. Not helped by what we found when Drew went down the weed hatch by Electric Wharfe and untangled what looked like a shirt and shorts, several bits of net and a whole heap of weed from around the prop. Oddly enough, Jupiter ran so much better afterwards, though she may have added to her collection going through the mess under Bridge 4...<br />
Moored at bridge 8 for a Tesco trip and the rain began to really hammer down at around 1400; I began to think the shore party may be drowned. But at least we didn't have a 'distracted by rat - <i>bump</i>' moment today (so far!). Soggy shore party returned eventually, and the weather improved for a while as we went back to Hawkesbury Junction, trying to get pictures of the various artworks along the canalside. Hawkesbury's attractive but a bit complicated, though Drew did a fine job of negotiating it, and got into the lock - which is a stoplock with a rise/fall of about 6 inches! Lots of interesting canal architecture - the old Engine Shed, and lovely ironwork bridges. Chatted to folks who were on a lock-free holiday and were checking out the how-to of it.<br />
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<a href="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v436/madwaff/Canals%202010/july15.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v436/madwaff/Canals%202010/july15.jpg" width="500" /></a></div>
<br />
After a late start and the shopping, we made it to Stretton Stop by Brinklow, and moored up on the towpath - first time we've used the mooring pins this year - and Drew managed to find unpleasantness underfoot in the overgrown verge. Sleep to the constant rattle and whoosh of the trains on the adjacent line.<br />
<i>1 lock/11.5 miles/0 tunnels/Coventry Canal, Oxford Canal.</i><br />
<br />
<b>Day Fourteen: 16 July. Brinklow to Braunston Junction.</b><br />
Not a bad night, considering the trains and the occasional downpour, but the loud and over-excitable Jack Russell in the next boat made us keen to get away.<br />
The first hazard would have been the swing bridge at Stretton, but that was open - the gap being filled by a bloke who had racketed past us earlier and was now dead in the water with a prop jam that he couldn't clear. Eventually he towed his boat round into the adjacent yard to let the traffic jam clear - which meant we didn't have to stop to shut the bridge!<br />
Then it was through the vastly unstable Brinklow cutting - dead slow required to avoid any bank wash, as the whole place looked ready to slide downhill into the canal. We were on the lookout for somewhere to get a pump-out; most marinas were pretty full and/or inaccessible, so it was onward, ever onward, through sun and showers and blustery wind.<br />
Newbold Tunnel was a delight - they've put coloured lights in it which show up the flowstone formations. There are supposedly bats, so they switch off at sunset...I'm not sure about the logic of that!.. it was all very pretty, so we stopped and Drew went back to take more photos.<br />
Then we scurried through Rugby - nice sporting murals under the bridges, but again nothing much in the way of real industrial architecture. Couldn't get into Clifton Cruisers (inconsiderate nerd taking up <i>all</i> the service space to refuel) so on, to Hilmorton Locks. Like Sawley, these come in pairs - two locks, no waiting! Things fell pretty much right, so it was a quick ascent, and Drew got to try the 'stick the nose on the gate' technique.<br />
Past the aerial farm (it used to transmit the time signal), and through rolling farmland marked by extensive ridge and furrow - some so deep that the sheep could shelter from the wind in them. There were some odd antics amongst the cows... and why are nearly all the horses black and white?<br />
Coming into Braunston, the boats were double-moored, putting the lie to Pearson's claim that there were usually plenty of moorings! We're not even at peak holiday time, and it's full of boats. There was a tight turn by the Junction bridge, and a lot of slow manouevring trying to see if we could get into any of the small places - naturally, not possible. Everywhere we found was just past the end of permitted moorings, or at a waste station, or water point, so we made use of the latter, and Drew nipped into Braunston Marina to check out pump-outs. This was perfectly possible, hoorah, so with a dint of fine manoeuvring we went under the bridge into the wharf, to find someone else had just slid in ahead of us (to empty an Elsan, for goodness sake - don't need to take up the pump-out space to do <i>that</i>) so we pulled in alongside - and the heavens opened. Once the other boat left, Drew went to do the negotiating. I had a bright idea for once - rather than face the lock flight and tunnel before we could get to a mooring, which was the option - why not see if we could moor at the marina? Again, this was perfectly possible.<br />
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<a href="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v436/madwaff/Canals%202010/july16.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v436/madwaff/Canals%202010/july16.jpg" width="500" /></a></div>
<br />
Drew now got promoted - he is now Grand Panjandrum, King of the Kharzi - as another new holiday experience happened; our first DIY pump-out! Smelly, but not messy, is perhaps the best way to describe it.<br />
Then there was another bit of fine boat-handling to get us into our berth for the night, after which he celebrated by going to the pub for a beer and free WiFi. Mum and I read and relaxed, and enjoyed another heavy downpour complete with thunder and lightning. <br />
<i>3 locks/15 miles/1 tunnel/Oxford Canal, GUC Main Line/pumpout.</i>madhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09930707885045182012noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29600191.post-56969451801791884842011-05-13T22:50:00.056+01:002011-10-19T00:27:56.922+01:00Slow Boat goes to Coventry<b>Day Nine: 11 July. Fradley Junction to Polesworth.</b><br />
A gentle day with very few locks to try us, although the ones we encountered were deep and slow to fill; looks like this will be the way of it from here on. Tomorrow we tackle the Atherstone Eleven, so an easy day was a good idea. It was breezy, which did cause a few problems with crosswinds on the bends, and a rather closer-than-we'd-have-liked encounter with a couple of British Waterways working boats, who were fortunately very understanding!<br />
Through open countryside again, and the horsiculture belt; many of the horses had fly masks which led to comments of 'who was that masked horse?'<br />
The railway line runs alongside the canal for much of the way, and electrification means that the overhead gantries are very intrusive and ugly. There are also several (Roman) roads, all carrying a lot of traffic. Quite a lot of boats, but very few obviously hired ones, and it was all very busy - Fazeley Junction wasn't quite as bad a turn as Fradley, but equally packed.<br />
Through the suburbs of Tamworth, up Glascote Locks and past Alvecote, stopping for lunch and a bit of canalside retail therapy with a bloke doing nice leather goods. Drew got himself a proper belt and holder for his lock key, and now feels very professional.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v436/madwaff/Canals%202010/july11.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="310" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v436/madwaff/Canals%202010/july11.jpg" width="500" /></a></div><br />
Moored for the night at Polesworth, which is nice; deeply wooded with a cutting on one side and an embankment on the other which overlooks the river Anker. Drew went for a recce, and I encountered a swan which seemed determined to peck my trouser bottoms. There's a very good Indian takeaway in Polesworth, with generous portions!<br />
<i>12.5 miles/2 locks/0 tunnels/Coventry Canal</i><br />
<br />
<b>Day Ten: 12 July. Polesworth to Atherstone</b>.<br />
And of course, our first wet day... not merely damp. <br />
Not 'a bit rainy'. <br />
WET. <br />
Stair rods. All the way through the Atherstone Flight (which is more a series of short pounds and locks than a staircase). Slow going - althought there were some boats coming down, we sometimes had to empty a lock down to get in (which makes you feel quite guilty). Mostly we were followed by a family in the first 'Viking' fleet hire boat we've seen; they were entertaining, with a small terrier that seemed to be enjoying itself hugely, and a gaggle of kids who vanished below at the first sign of rain, leaving their parents to brave the weather. General chat to folks as we went along, and plenty of lovely dogs, including one very stubborn black labrador that utterly refused to walk across the top of the gate of Atherstone Top Lock, no matter what his person did to encourage him.<br />
Drew got quite adept at hopping across between the lower gates, which saved no end of foot-miles going round. It all adds up. We moored up for shopping, and decided we may as well stay put overnight rather than go on a couple more miles. <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v436/madwaff/Canals%202010/july12.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v436/madwaff/Canals%202010/july12.jpg" width="500" /></a></div>We were amongst various working boats, carrying smokeless fuel and gravel - some had been as far as London, and I wondered if they'd been taking materials to the Olympics site - I somewhere remember reading they were using canal haulage.<br />
Last night's curry stretched to leftovers!<br />
<i>4 miles/11 locks/0 tunnels/Coventry Canal</i><br />
<br />
<b>Day Eleven: 13 July. Atherstone to Shackerstone.</b><br />
Another day of rain and wind. Headed down through Nuneaton to Marston Junction and the Ashby Canal, watering up at the 'Valley Boats' marina, where Mum got postcards and a plaque of the Foxton Flight. Drew went looking for chandlery bits with no luck, but <i>did</i> manage (finally) to get the Lockmaster map for this holiday.<br />
Leaving, we were chased desperately by a bevy of confused ducklings (surely their mum wasn't big and green?)<br />
Ashby Canal starts with the remnants of what turned out to be a stoplock - very narrow - and went on to be serpentine, blowy, and extremely shallow for much of its length; Drew remarked it was like driving through thick gravy at times. There were lots of moored boats too, and we discovered that 'tickover' varies from boat to boat - trying <i>not</i> to overhaul the boat ahead, we ended up having to overtake... it was like the world's slowest boat chase...<br />
Water vole near Bridge 4, buzzards over <a href="http://www.bosworthbattlefield.com/">Bosworth Field</a> (yes, THAT Bosworth!). <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v436/madwaff/Canals%202010/july13.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v436/madwaff/Canals%202010/july13.jpg" width="500" /></a></div>Mostly small and pretty villages (apart from Hinkley) and cornfields. The idea was to get to Snarestone tonight, but conditions were against us, and after a couple of hours of almost-arguement, we compromised on a mooring at Shackerstone. Some of the scenery lovely, but mostly in a 'rural-neutral' way, without so much as a derelict shed to break the flow of fields and weeds.<br />
<i>0 locks/25 miles/0 tunnels/Coventry Canal, Ashby Canal</i><br />
<br />
<b>Day Twelve: 14 July. Shackerstone to Coventry Basin via Snarestone.</b><br />
An early start, and a spell of fine-ish weather saw us up to the end of the canal - the scenery up here is much more interesting, with another SSSI through Gopsall Wood - wish I could remember all the plant names!<br />
Snarestone Tunnel (228m) was quite fun - it has a bend in the middle, and gets lower towards the top end so you do have to duck a bit! Turned round just after the tunnel - little else to do, although the canal association are trying to extend to the old terminus at Moira; it's a work in progress.<br />
So now began the long run back down to the basin at Coventry, and a day of frustration for me; I tried to help share the steering but got constantly caught by the wind, ending up getting us stuck again and again, and having to hand over to Drew (with his boat-handling experience etc from diving, he's so much more clued-up) to sort out a problem I'd created. Better stick to what I'm good at, which is going in and out of locks, and dropping-off and picking-up. <br />
Weather was better than yesterday, but still wet in patches, so on and off with coats etc. We eventually left the waterproofs on, which seemed to deter the rain until around Hawkesbury Junction.<br />
A thunderstorm (with lightning) hit at this point, as we were passing all the moorings, so I retreated into the boat and stayed there until we'd nearly reached Coventry. <br />
It's another odd place; the old slapjowl with the new, big with small. Some interesting features - <a href="http://www.electricwharf.com/information/concept/">Electric Wharfe</a>, <a href="http://www.canalplan.org.uk/gazetteer/nei6">Cash's Hundreds</a> - but less 'proper' canalside warehouses etc, mostly things that have been cleared by demolition, like the old Ordnance Works, or rebuilt-on-the-site-of, like Electric Wharfe. Lots of pieces of 'public art' (mostly covered with graffiti) and although there was some good graffiti, much of <i>that</i> had been defaced. Sad, like the amount of crud floating in the canal, although the mooringhens and mallards don't seem to care.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v436/madwaff/Canals%202010/july14.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v436/madwaff/Canals%202010/july14.jpg" width="500" /></a></div>Some really lovely buddleia bushes overhanging the canal, odd orange lights making spooky shadows under Bridge 5a, new flats, amiable drunks, and a lot of late evening fishermen...we eventually made it to Coventry Basin just after 9 pm, and got the last mooring (there<i> is</i> room for more boats, just marked 'no mooring'. Frustrating!) Drew went hunter-gathering, and returned with Nandos, which Mum and I had never heard of!<br />
<i>32 miles/0 locks/2 tunnels (return trip)/Ashby Canal, Oxford Canal, Coventry Canal</i>madhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09930707885045182012noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29600191.post-32961663377481187282011-05-13T20:46:00.037+01:002012-06-24T00:58:25.364+01:00Slow Boat back on track.<b>Day Six: 8 July. Pilling's Lock to Shardlow.</b><br />
And we're back on the water and on our way; at least, after a shower that made me feel a little less like Pinkie McStinkie, the Slut of the Cut....<br />
We cover the same ground - er, water - back to Loughborough, but turn right up the river instead of into the city. It's back into the countryside, with wide reaches, loads of metallic blue and green damselflies, dragonflies like helicopters, ducks and moorhens herding their broods of young out of our way.<br />
We travel in part-convoy with a couple of other boats, which means less banging about in locks and more hands to work them. One guy coming the other way says that the Trent & Mersey is getting short of water, and some folks have bottomed. We push on, with cross-winds.<br />
The confluence of the Trent and Soar, near the cooling towers of Ratcliffe Power Station, is a vast expanse of water, more like one of the Norfolk Broads, with at least 3 canals leading off, and there is a huge weir to avoid.<br />
<br />
Splatters of rain start as we head up the new canal - quite refreshing, really! - and face the confusion that is the <a href="http://www2.mihalis.net/canal/cgi-bin/gazette.cgi?where=$9g2k">Sawley Mechanised Locks</a>. These are supposedly manned, but all we see is one officious beard that told us to wait while another boat came out, and then promptly vanished, leaving us to hover off the 'island' between the parallel locks, tall stone walls to either side. We finally get into the lock, and see the notice saying '<i>ropes must be used</i>', so there is a bit of a scramble. Drew figures out the mysteries of the automated system, which button does what... we escape with little trouble, save for the shortness of the pick-up point on the island and, with a bit of deft manoeuvring, get onto the water point.<br />
An encounter with another boat at this point draws my attention to how many boats have huge dogs aboard - this one had two German Shepherds, and one last night had an enormous black Newfoundland (and a one-eyed cat!). Maybe they act like supplementary heaters in the winter...<br />
<br />
Drew helps another guy throught the lock - the controls on this side are totally different to the ones on the side we came up - and we water-up. Naturally, it overflows, but fortunately the whole system is geared to dealing with excess water. <br />
Derwent Mouth Lock is badly damaged, one paddle is as loose as a catflap, and the whole RH gate is stuck fast. Awkward, but it's wide enough to sneak through (and gives us an idea for dealing with wide locks!) Looks like it won't be the last damaged lock on this stretch, either.<br />
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Tied up in the middle of Shardlow - a very pretty place - across the road from the Malt Shovel (classy but expensive) and the New Inn (plain pub food but good, and plenty of it) - guess where we went! Sat outside in the sun, admiring the motor show that developed in the car park, and chatting to the owners of a rather nice Ducati bike.<br />
<i>18 miles/10 locks/0 tunnels/River Soar, Trent & Mersey Canal</i><br />
<br />
<b>Day Seven: 9 July. Shardlow to Branston Lock.</b><br />
Made our way through the picturesque and historical waterside of <a href="http://homepages.which.net/%7Eshardlow.heritage/shwpscene.htm">Shardlow</a>; heading west now, and some quite deep locks. Pretty open land all around, with no significant settlements apart from one or two pubs and a remote, but prosperous-looking Indian restaurant. Got a phone message from Matt, checking that we were okay (nice of him), and called ahead to check the best time to call at Barton marina for fuel and a pumpout. Not that we'll get there today. Still several widebeam locks to deal with until we got to Burton-on-Trent; Dallow Lane came as a pleasant relief as the first 'smaller' one encountered.<br />
We're still roasting in the sun, getting quite brown (and pink), although upper arms and shins remain resolutely peelie-wallie.<br />
Burton-on-Trent is odd. It's a biggish town ('Largest in the<a href="http://www.nationalforest.org/"> National Forest</a>' according to a sign we saw in a very small copse) but, although the canalside is quite nice, there is little industrial (and we <i>like</i> industrial) - you can see <a href="http://www.marstonsbeercompany.co.uk/">Marston's Brewery</a> and the Coors maltings - and the rest remains stubbornly suburban.<br />
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Moored initially by the (clean, antiseptic, modern) industrial estate, but couldn't figure out how to get through it to the shops, so moved up to the moorings (and the mooringhens) by Bridge 54, after Branston Lock. Pearson's Guide said that Morrisons was about half a mile, but Drew vanished for nearly two hours, returning sweaty and disgruntled, having walked 'miles'. Filthy MacNasty was quickly sent to the shower and despatched.<br />
<i>18 miles/7 locks/0 tunnels/Trent & Mersey Canal</i><br />
<br />
<b>Day Eight: 10 July. Branston Lock to Fradley Junction.</b><br />
Slow start, as we need to be at the marina after lunchtime. Two locks and a very tight entrance to <a href="http://www.bartonmarina.co.uk/p0_0_0.htm">Barton-under-Needwood marina</a>, which is vast, and very posh. We drifted, elegant and windblown, alongside another AW boat, 'Foxton'. and negotiated the fuel and pumpout. Grumpy chap became less grumpy when he found we were the 'propshaft boat', and said that 'Foxton' had picked up a tyre round her prop in Birmingham, and had to be hauled out to have it cut free. Exited the marina somewhat poorer but quite competently (until we hit the opposite bank... oops!)<br />
Down to join the river again between Wychnor and Alrewas (love these names!), where it's wide with yet another huge weir. Pretty countryside, loads of dragons and damsels and lots of flowers by the waterside. We'd planned to stop at <a href="http://www.nationalforest.org/visit/index.php?control=main&action=location&LocationId=693">Fradley Junction</a>, to get a better look than the last time we were here some years back, but it was not to be - the whole place was jam-packed with boats and gongoozalers, so we went carefully round the junction on a rope, to find the swing bridge open; with a guy behind us, that meant we didn't need to stop and shut it, and we sailed through happily.<br />
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<br />
Boat after boat after boat lined the canalside, until finally we found a space on a rather overgrown bank opposite a housing estate and slotted in there, with only a few nettle stings. Mum battled the shower this time, and Nellie O'Smellie was no more.<br />
<i>8 miles/9 locks/0 tunnels/Trent & Mersey Canal, Coventry Canal/fuel & pumpout</i>madhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09930707885045182012noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29600191.post-12018721042532715952011-05-13T20:23:00.004+01:002011-10-19T00:37:00.300+01:00Slow Boat High and Dry<b>Day Five; 7 July. Dayboat to Loughborough</b><br />
...and guess what - with all the fuss I'd nearly forgotten it's my birthday!<br />
So.. They turned up about 0915, with the AngloWelsh guy who has the spares, and we disembark to the (very nice, with free WiFi) cafe. The boat is hauled up onto the trolley and is out for inspection. They reckon 3-4 hours, but the AW guy is looking for a bigger welding kit; they're replacing the entire assembly, which means cutting a chunk out of the hull. I try not to think about it.<br />
We have coffee, and then sort out the dayboat.<br />
'Kittywake's a small fibreglass cruiser, rather elderly, and very twitchy on the steering compared to the stolidity of Jupiter. Drew's steering is tested several times on the way to Loughborough (that's Luffburra, not Lugaboruga) - as we exit the marina, an enthusuastic springer spaniel leaps off the bank in pursuit of a passing swan, landing practically under the bows! A little further up, we encounter a small narrowboat-style dayboat crewed by a gaggle of females (looks like a hen party!) who seem to be navigating by bank-braille....<br />
We make it to the City wharfe unscathed, and the shoreparty head off in search of supplies, while I catch up on my diary.<br />
'Kittywake' is due for some TLC. Not long after being repainted last winter, she was stolen, and recovered in rather a sad state. Now she has a shiny, and very efficient, new engine, and is due a lot of bodywork improvements, a new screen and a seat for the helmsman. Nice to know she's going to be cared for.<br />
I make contact with Tracey (who now lives near Nottingham) and organise a meet-up with her and the clan for dinner at the marina tonight. The shoreparty returns, and we head back to the marina.<br />
Jupiter is still up on the cradle, so we set up in the cafe for a beer or two. Eventually we're joined by the AW guys, who have finished 'one of the more major jobs we've had to do'... The boat is back on the water with a whole new propellor and shaft, and a welded section in her hull, and Paul from the marina gives us a very convenient-for-the-facilities (especially the bar) mooring.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v436/madwaff/Canals%202010/july07.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v436/madwaff/Canals%202010/july07.jpg" width="500" /></a></div>Back on board to inspect the work (very impressive) and a short snooze before meeting Tracey and Co for dinner. The food was excellent and the company wonderful, so a lovely evening, apart from the whole bar singing 'Happy Birthday, Whoever You Are' as they brought the birthday cake in (thanks T!)<br />
<i>5 miles/0 locks/0 tunnels/River Soar</i>madhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09930707885045182012noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29600191.post-7018370223142145082011-05-11T22:34:00.005+01:002011-10-19T00:39:07.436+01:00Slow Boat Up the Creek<b>Day Four: 6 July. Birstall to Pilling's Lock.</b><br />
And this was the day things stopped going according to plan....<br />
After breakfast and a quick shopping trip, it was business as usual, with added clunk. A grass snake swims across the river ahead of us as we leave; naturally the lens cap is on my switched-off camera. <br />
The clunk gets worse. We don't like the sound of it, and there seemed to be trouble with the steering, so after Thurmaston Lock we stop to check the hatch again. <br />
Plastic bag.<br />
Extracted.<br />
Still clunking, so we get to a reasonably accessible stopping place, and ring the boatyard, who send out helpful mechanics who arrived with about an hour.<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;"><i>Spirits plummet, and </i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>we halt. Going nowhere fast</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>we call the boatyard.</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div>After poking about in the bowels of the boat, they deliver their verdict.<br />
Not good news.<br />
The bearing on the prop-shaft has popped out, so the shaft etc isn't properly supported going through the hull to the prop. And it's hitting the prop on occasion...so it needs taking out and refitting - which means finding a yard and taking the boat out of the water. I can feel the holiday falling apart around us.<br />
So we wait, to see if there's a yard that can handle us...<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;"><i>Help is soon at hand.</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>with stilson wrench and grease:</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>Matt, our new Best Friend.</i></div><br />
Well, <a href="http://www.pillingslock.com/">Pilling's Lock Marina</a> can take us, but it's quite a distance away, so Matt the Engineer is coming with us to make sure things don't get worse, and <a href="http://www.anglowelsh.co.uk/index.htm">AngloWelsh</a> have been real stars - they've offered to either pay for us to have a day out somewhere while the boat is fixed (on a reimbursement basis) or the boatyard will let us have a dayboat for the day. PLUS as we'll be losing 2 days of our holiday, and Jupiter isn't booked out next week, we can stay out until Monday morning instead of returning to base on Saturday. A couple of quick phone calls and it's all agreed - so as long as it gets fixed tomorrow, all is better than good!<br />
So here we go, letting Matt and Drew do the locks and steering.<br />
<a href="http://lrwt.org.uk/nature-reserves/cossington-meadows/">Cossington Nature Reserve</a> slips past, with terns screeching overhead. Lots of sizeable weirs (mostly dry-ish), some very posh houses, long gardens, some boats, overhanging willows (of course you <i>always</i> meet the oncoming boat where the willows mask it!). Not quite sure why one house appears to have cannon on the waterfront...<br />
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The river widens rapidly after Montsorrel, very rural and lovely. We get to Pillings Lock by 1700 and then there is all the messing about getting to our mooring, and finding someone who knows what's happening.<br />
They say they'll start at 0700...<br />
<i>8 miles/7 locks/0 tunnels/River Soar</i>madhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09930707885045182012noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29600191.post-46672079184098418282011-05-11T22:06:00.006+01:002011-10-19T00:42:49.790+01:00Slow Boat on the Leicester Ring, 2010Well, it seems to be becoming a habit to write about last year's holiday not long before going on this year's, so here we go again!<br />
<br />
<b>Day One: 3 July 2010. North Kilworth to Foxton.</b><br />
Left home after the usual 3D jigsaw of carpacking, Mum wedged in the backseat amongst the bags. All the way to <a href="http://www.northkilworthwharf.com/">North Kilworth</a>, we kept remembering things we <i>should</i> have packed. Got to the wharf at about 1515, to be met by very helpful staff, unloaded all the gear and parked the car, and once everything was aboard, it was time for the regular walk-through and handover checks on NB Jupiter, all 62 foot of her. By 1600 we were casting off. Headed up towards Foxton, through greenery (the first tree-I-have-been-dragged-through of the holiday was hawthorn). <br />
<a href="http://www.fipt.org.uk/digitalcanal/view-25">Husband's Bosworth Tunnel </a>- nearly 1200 yards and, like all the tunnels on our planned route, wide enough to pass another boat - was a long way in the dark, being dripped on. There were some very long stalactites, and two boats coming the other way -<i> 'breathe in' </i>said one, taking up most of the tunnel.<br />
Emerged into more greenery, through the broad bean fields of Leicestershire.<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;"><i>Passing the bean-fields</i><br />
<i>Cows, sheep and dozing horses,</i><br />
<i>Yellowhammer sings.</i><br />
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</div><div style="text-align: left;">Finally moored up just by Bridge 59, on a clear and peaceful bank in the late sunshine, to sort out the gear and start making dinner.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><i>6 miles/0 locks/1 tunnel/</i><i>GUC Leicester Branch.</i></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b><br />
</b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b>Day Two: 4 July. Foxton to Kilby Bridge</b><br />
And up and at it with the <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Foxton_Locks">Foxton Flight</a>!<br />
Which was an interesting experience - not so much for the actual locking (not too awful, despite there being 10 locks) but more from the point of view of being a tourist attraction! I don't know how many times Drew did the <i>'this is how locks work' </i>talk to the numerous gongoozalers... meanwhile we'd watered up, chatted to fellow boaters, breakfasted..not sure where we're aiming for, but there are a lot of locks on the way.<br />
Thought about a side trip up to Market Harborough, but an inadvisably moored boat and an unexpected swing bridge meant a mid-corner change of plan and direction straight up the Leicester Canal.<br />
Saddington Tunnel supposedly has bats, but there was no sign apart from a rather well-made bat box shaped to fit the wall at the NW end.<br />
Very rural, with sheep, and hedgerows full of dogroses; most of today's trees-I-have-been-dragged-through have been ash. Mum and Drew work the locks and I do the driving through them, cill-avoidance a speciality, and also act as Drew's relief driver. Feels strange to have such big locks (all double width) with few boats around to share the water. Jupiter drifts like a graceful brick from side to side in the locks, seldom ending up where I expect her to be. The wind catches her too - it's a gusty day and we have a few encounters of the bank kind.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v436/madwaff/Canals%202010/july04.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="350" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v436/madwaff/Canals%202010/july04.jpg" width="500" /></a></div>We finally moor up at Kilby Bridge; most of today has been on a stretch of canal designated as a Site of Special Scientific Interest, for water plants, though I have no idea which ones!<br />
<i>10miles/22 locks/1 tunnel/GUC Leicester Branch</i><br />
<br />
<b>Day Three: 5 July. Kilby Bridge to Birstall.</b><br />
Another day of locks, and what Wogan used to call the 'Lost City of Leicester'. Fairly rural to begin with - one field seemed to be planted with both wheat <i>and</i> barley - muesli-in-the-making? Quite a lot of bank traffic, cyclists and walkers, some of whom were helpful with locks. The locks <i>before</i> Leicester have a key-opened padlock system, to try to stop malcontents and ne'er-do-wells emptying the locks (hardly a point as most of the gates are so badly balanced that they swing open if left without water pressure). Naturally, this means that the malcontents <i>et al</i> now satisfy themselves by cutting off the padlocks or filling them with superglue.</div></div>An enticing smell of baking cookies welcomes us to South Wigston - perhaps the Jacobs biscuit factory? Polite back gardens lead down to the water, but not the number of boats I would have expected, At Glen Parva, the houses are bigger and the back gardens (and inevitable decking and gazebos) better off too. <br />
Back into the country for the last descent to Leicester, and the beginnings of our river adventures at King's Lock, where the Soar joins the canal, or vice versa. There is a system of warning markers to say if travel is safe - the river is subkect to flooding, but no rain means we are well into the green zone (unless - uneasy thought - it's just the algae).<br />
The water is immediately clearer, with lots of weed visible, and more people fishing. Didn't see any fish, though!<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;"><i>A whole herd. Horses</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>black-and-white, pied like magpies,</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>contentedly graze.</i></div><br />
And then - the weirs!<br />
These are highly impressive, and in the case of Freeman's Meadow, huge. The path of the canal isn't always clear, so it's 'take it steady' and figure it out as we go, wave at the kids and chat to folks at locks.<br />
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Oddly, in the city, there are no padlocks. There is, however, a lot of graffiti, and an awful lot of rubbish. A coot uses a floating black bin bag as the base for a nest.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v436/madwaff/Canals%202010/j05weir2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="130" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v436/madwaff/Canals%202010/j05weir2.jpg" width="500" /></a></div>There's no room at the Castle pontoon, so we chug on to Birstall, via locks full of floating chunks of wood which make getting through a bit of a trial. After the last lock of the day, there's a bit of a pother as we help recover a football stuck on the wrong side of the canal, an operation involving some very deft use of the bargepole.<br />
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We moor up and inspect the weed hatch for an odd clunking. Find a piece of wire wound round the prop, extract same, and then take advantage of the locality to send Drew out for fish and chips.<br />
<i>12 miles/16 locks/0 tunnels/River Soar</i>madhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09930707885045182012noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29600191.post-77139425462926177642011-05-07T17:58:00.002+01:002011-05-07T19:50:32.836+01:00Home on the Range<a href="http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/uk-scotland-north-east-orkney-shetland-12977782">We have ponies</a>! Well, the RSPB has them really, but we all feel quite proprietorial about them. They are <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Konik">Konik </a>horses, strictly speaking, brought in to help manage the rough grazing in the marshes and improve conditions for breeding waders. They are quite a long way from the Visitor Centre, and are rather elusive, seeming to like hiding amongst the gorse bushes, so when we got the opportunity to go to see them (after a <i>very</i> early start on the last goose count) we clambered into the reserve truck and bounced off over the fields.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v436/madwaff/blog/P4170533.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="280" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v436/madwaff/blog/P4170533.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br />
There are eight, four fillies and four geldings, and they are quite young, and still in their fluffy winter coats. They were basking in the sun, and seemed less than impressed at the disturbance, but posed nicely before heading off into the marsh to continue the hard work of eating.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v436/madwaff/blog/k17.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v436/madwaff/blog/k17.jpg" width="280" /></a></div>madhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09930707885045182012noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29600191.post-61058827805650566662011-05-07T17:47:00.002+01:002011-05-07T21:06:08.394+01:00Go West!A year or two ago, I made a <a href="http://wyverbird.blogspot.com/2009/09/day-tripping-at-top-end.html">trip to the far North</a>, ending up at Ledmore Junction, where the fading light forced me to turn for home. I said at the time that I wanted to continue the trip down towards Ullapool, and in mid-April this year, while Mum was staying, we decided it was time to do just that. So, packing a few sandwiches and cereal bars, we headed west.<br />
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The weather along the Moray Firth was beautiful, until we got to Nairn, where an unexpected haar rolled in. Normally the fogbanks stay offshore (or sit over my house) but some twist of the weather meant that they followed course of the inner firth, and it wasn't until we had gone quite a way inland that the sun broke through again.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v436/madwaff/blog/P4090440.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="280" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v436/madwaff/blog/P4090440.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br />
It took around four hours to reach Ledmore again, and the great lumps of Assynt rose before us. Last trip, I posted a picture of Suilven in the rear view mirror - this is the way it should look!<br />
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The road south runs through the <a href="http://www.northwest-highlands-geopark.org.uk/geopark/index.php">Geopark</a> - the whole area is fascinating from a geological point of view - and we couldn't resist a diversion through the heart of it, past Stac Pollaidh towards Achiltibuie and the Summer Isles.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v436/madwaff/blog/P4090454.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v436/madwaff/blog/P4090454.jpg" width="280" /></a></div>The road is one of the usual single-track-with-passing-places, and there are several small car parks for hill walkers, all full. Small lochs lie in the hollows between the hills, and we were delighted to get a great sighting of a <a href="http://www.rspb.org.uk/wildlife/birdguide/name/b/blackthroateddiver/index.aspx">black throated diver</a> in full breeding plumage - not close enough for a decent photograph, unfortunately. Further on, we pause beside Loch Raa, where a flurry in the water turns out to be two otters! Again, they were not photographically obliging...<br />
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The sheep, on the other hand, were quite content to pose.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v436/madwaff/blog/P4090471.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v436/madwaff/blog/P4090471.jpg" width="280" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v436/madwaff/blog/k09-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="280" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v436/madwaff/blog/k09-1.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br />
Not far from Achiltibuie, a small ferry takes visitors across to the <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Summer_Isles">Summer Isles</a>. (and yes, they do exist outside of the 'Wicker Man' - in fact they have nothing to do with it at all.)<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v436/madwaff/blog/P4090467.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="280" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v436/madwaff/blog/P4090467.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br />
Turning back, we look again for the otters, but they have gone, as has the diver. We rejoin the main road and head for <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ullapool">Ullapool</a>, on the shore of Loch Broom. <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v436/madwaff/blog/P4090484.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="280" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v436/madwaff/blog/P4090484.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>It's an active fishing port, and full of tourists so we don't linger, heading instead for Gruinard Bay. Gruinard Island is more notorious for being the site of<a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Gruinard_Island"> anthrax testing</a> in the second world War, and was only decontaminated in 1990. On a previous trip, we saw a white-tailed sea eagle on the island; today the bay held more divers - <a href="http://www.rspb.org.uk/wildlife/birdguide/name/r/redthroateddiver/index.aspx">red-throated</a> and <a href="http://www.rspb.org.uk/wildlife/birdguide/name/g/greatnortherndiver/index.aspx">Great Northern</a> - which are hard to follow as they do exactly as their name suggests - they dive, and usually surface a long way from where they vanish!<br />
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Time to go. Past the naval refuelling station at Loch Ewe, the gardens of Inverewe, to Poolewe at the end of Loch Maree.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v436/madwaff/blog/P4090486.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v436/madwaff/blog/P4090486.jpg" width="280" /></a></div><br />
We follow the lochside, towards Achnasheen, and come to a sudden halt in a convenient layby. 'There's a <a href="http://www.rspb.org.uk/wildlife/birdguide/name/b/blackgrouse/index.aspx">black grouse</a> in that tree!' 'What - good heavens, so there is!'<br />
And there was.<br />
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Next time, it's Torridon and Applecross, and the third highest (and most dramatic) road in Scotland...unless we go to Skye first! we shall see...madhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09930707885045182012noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29600191.post-20374642006924249632011-05-07T16:45:00.002+01:002011-05-07T16:48:05.897+01:00Up Country<b>April 3rd.</b> Amazed by the good weather, and in dire need of an escape from the computer, we decided to take a trip up Deeside; in the end we went much further than we expected. We followed the winding road along the southside away from the main tourist traffic and, with a minor diversion (well, round in a circle actually!) along a backroad, ended up in Braemar where we headed northwest to the end of the highway.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v436/madwaff/blog/P4030407.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="270" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v436/madwaff/blog/P4030407.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>The Dee is a salmon river, and all along its length there are bothies and benches and parking places for anglers who have the money...the last, I think, being the critical element. <br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v436/madwaff/blog/P4030415.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="270" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v436/madwaff/blog/P4030415.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Mar Lodge lies beyond Braemar, up towards the headwaters of the river (the Dee rises in the Cairngorms, somewhere in the Lairig Ghru) - the valley is broad, flat-bottomed, the result of glaciation, and the river loops lazily across it in wide meanders. It's a lovely spot at any time of year, and there was a real feel of spring in the air at last.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Still plenty of time, and the weather staying fine, we decided to go back the long way, over the hills to Strathdon, the other river valley leading to Aberdeen.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v436/madwaff/blog/P4030405.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v436/madwaff/blog/P4030405.jpg" width="270" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v436/madwaff/blog/P4030419.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="270" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v436/madwaff/blog/P4030419.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">The pattern of muirburn show that the land is managed for grouse shooting; it's a pity the grouse don't realise it. At this time of year they are more interested in displaying to each other, and we crested one hill to find this chap strutting his stuff in the middle of the road.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v436/madwaff/blog/P4030420.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="270" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v436/madwaff/blog/P4030420.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div>Finally he wandered off into the heather, and we headed for home.<br />
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</div>madhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09930707885045182012noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29600191.post-19152446861476348842011-02-27T17:25:00.002+00:002011-02-27T17:30:14.212+00:00Geese leaving Strathbeg<iframe src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/wc1CmJLDnfg?fs=1" allowfullscreen="" width="425" frameborder="0" height="344"></iframe>madhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09930707885045182012noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29600191.post-85503206596162688952011-02-27T17:07:00.007+00:002011-02-27T17:31:14.866+00:00Turning SeasonsGetting up at an unearthly hour to count the geese every month can sometimes be a bit of a trial, but there are some things that make it worthwhile - the song of a skylark, giving it laldy somewhere overhead in the darkness before dawn; groups of roe deer grazing along the field margins, coming within twenty yards before catching sight or smell of the car, and bolting away into the sunrise, or leaping over the fences with astonishing grace; a flight of whooper swans skimming low over the wood and straight over the car, 'whoong-ing' to each other as they pass overhead. And of course, the geese, in their thousands, rising from the loch and the Low Ground where they have been roosting and feeding to head out into the dawn in search of more food, building strength for the new breeding season.<br /><br />And the sunrise... each early morning this year, the sun rises a little bit further north. In mid-January, it rose in a scarlet and fuchsia glory behind the Rookery Wood. This morning, it was a full hands-width further round, beyond the airfield; pink filigree lighting the clouds before the gold-on-blue brilliance made using my binoculars a distinctly unsafe business. It marks the changing seasons as much as the snowdrops that flourish in the damp woodlands, or the sudden appearance of lambs, which pop up as if hatching from the turnips their mothers are feeding on. (Or are they helping them to hatch? My passing aliens might suspect so.) Spring is finally showing signs of returning.<br /><br />And one day I'll figure out how to stick a video into a blog post without have to do it separately!madhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09930707885045182012noreply@blogger.com1