Cosgrove calling

Welford to Cosgrove

July 2018

The Grand Union's Leicester summit section is remote, to say the least. It passes  through no locks or towns and instead is winds through field after field. The landscape is unremittingly rural where even the smallest hillock is named and represents a notable landmark.

Lock Keepers Cottage Watford Locks

Whilst there are no towns, it is peppered with marinas, one so new its vast acres of water contained just two boats. Yelvertoft, North Kilworth and Crick to name a few of the larger ones.

Monday was spent passing these marinas and finally through Crick Tunnel to find a shady spot half way between the tunnel and the locks.

The addition of Dan to the crew meant the start of a new Six Handed Rummy tournament which saw him continue his winning ways and I was the tail end Charlie, proving, once again that its just a game of chance......

Innovative use for a boat window in Weedon

We had a short 30 minute wait on Tuesday at the top of the Watford Locks before we descended in a group of three boats. Our journey to Cosgrove had been timed at four days travel, but with six days on our hands we elected to take things slowly. As it happened, Tuesday was the one day we completed nearly a full days cruising, descending the Buckby Locks in the friendly company of Euston 73, who had already passed us on one or two occasions. I sometimes wonder about boat names so had to ask why name a boat after a station? It turned out that it was a combination of Sue and Tony, which was rather good. Oh, and the 73? its the number of the bus which stops at Euston!

We pressed on south through Weedon, eventually finding a quiet mooring near Nether Hayford, where the noise from the trains or the M1 were muted.

Wednesday saw us reach Gayton Junction and a much needed opportunity to use the services. It was here we had, as Frank Spencer would put it "a spot of bother". I went to use the Elsan and somewhat carelessly put the cassette cap on the rim of the waste shoot. I moved the pipe to rinse the cassette and.... knocked the cap down the hole! Arrrhhhh!

Stables at Stoke Bruene

What was worse the bottom is simply an inclined gutter so I couldn't see / rescue it "down the hole". I went round the back and lifted the inspection cover and saw that the outfall pipe was smaller than the cap, which means it was stuck upstream and would therefore cause a blockage the next time solids were poured in. In something of a panic I considered the options and found a 4" inspection pipe which, with its lid removed, revealed a kinked down pipe and there at the bottom was my cap - 4ft away. Close but oh so far.

I was starting to rehearse my call to CRT (I cant just walk away from these things) when inspiration struck. Every boating problem can, in theory, be solved by cable ties or duck tape. The tape was recovered from the butty and a ball attached to the end of the mop handle with a sticky side out. Dan shone a torch down the hole and I carefully pushed the handle in. Much to our amazement it stuck on the second attempt and then, very carefully, we lifted it out. Top tip to self, always put the cap on the floor!

With tanks purged and filled we were off through Blisworth where we will return in a month's time. Considering how dry it has been Blisworth Tunnel was soaking wet. Nothing seems to reduce the water available under the hill.

Floating fuel stop

On the way through my eye was caught by a fleeting glimpse of a light in a shaft, just beyond the rebuilt section. Later enquiries revealed that this is an offset air shaft with two connecting adits to the main canal tunnel.  There are several possible reasons why this shaft is off set, but my guess is that it is a shaft which accessed the first attempt at a tunnel. 

We did little more than pass through the tunnel, stopping on the visitor moorings near Sculptor and the museum. 

Kathryn Doddington paid us a brief visit in the morning before we set off down the Stoke Bruene Locks, five were for us and two were against. As it was nearly three weeks since we last refuelled we were pleased to see the Jules Fuels boats moored at the bottom lock. Cash was exchanged and the tank topped off with enough diesel to last us a month or more. In fact, after two weeks of running we still had 2/3 of a tank left. Its the happy combination of a large tank and an economical engine.

Then is was the final few miles into Cosgrove, dropping through the one lock in the village to reach the sump pound as it crosses the upper reaches of the River Ouse. We arrived on Thursday afternoon by which time most of the traders were in place. Helen walked ahead and found our spot, immediately before Ray and Lesley on Morgana. This was a lovely surprise, but I have lost count of the number of times we have been trading neighbours. The arrangement is so regular that their four cats immediately identify their favourite resting places on the roof.

The only fly in the ointment was one visiting boat who was determined to sit on the mooring till the absolute expiry of the CRT mooring restriction notice. I think this was a matter of principle, but by shuffling boats we all squeezed in.

Dan rounded off his winning streak and was whisked off in an Uber to Milton Keynes station leaving us to prepare for the festival.

To Welford the long way

Debdale to Welford

July 2018

Sorry about the pause on blogging, we have either been either a bit busy or the heat has made the idea of cradling a warm laptop rather unappealing. In fact it was only yesterday as we were hiding in the shade at Cosgrove that I heard a passing boater mention to his partner that, as far as he was aware from the blog, we were still near Debdale Wharf. The hot weather doesn't look like it is going anywhere fast so I am now sat under a tree somewhere in Milton Keynes playing catch up. Here goes.

Market Harborough basin

As in previous years we have hired a van about now and returned home to do all the domestic stuff but also to have a big blast at making our years supply of various variations of strawberry jam. That, and having an opportunity to recover the other half of our stock ready for the main festival season.

In the past we have used Milton Keynes Enterprise who will collect us from Cosgrove, but this year's schedule dictated something a bit earlier so we opted for a lay over at Market Harborough and a van from Leicester. Not ideal, but a safe place for the boats and a direct train line back to the city. As we were returning with Dan we opted for a larger transit sized vehicle which, with its turbo diesel engine had a good turn of speed but was rather noisy.

Attracting a crowd at Foxton

There are no long term visitor moorings near the basin so we moored the boats a few hundred yards back up the arm, adjacent to a gulley (other local variants are acceptable) which let us park up just a few yards away in Logans Crescent.

Home turned out to be anything but restful. We bought a huge volume of jamming strawberries from the farm shop in Hints and set to work. In the end we made over 250 jars, and watched England go out of the 2018 World Cup.

The concept of a three seater van was better in theory than in practice. As Dan has the shortest legs he was allocated the middle seat. Width wise we were OK but the gap to the dash board was smaller than RyanAir. Dan suffered a rather cramped journey and was unfolded at Market Bosworth. Reloading the butty is no small matter. The organisation of the preserves has more than a passing resemblance to an Ikea warehouse. Every possible storage location is numbered and marked on a "map" on the wall. Then as each variety is stored away its location is noted in the master book for easy reference later on. This is all great, but you do have to be accurate or you have absolutely no idea where anything is. All in all it took two hours under a cloudless sky to get the job done, followed by a drive back to Leicester and then the train and a walk to get back. 

After a night to recover we were off,  with an initial objective of mooring above the Foxton Locks. We rocked up to the bottom lock and could see boats descending so knew we needed to see the lock keeper - the problem is that the trip boat occupies the obvious lock landing and with the butty behind us we couldn't get back to the on to the north of it. In the end we just sort of hung around below the lock and figured the lock keeper would find us - which he did.

Busy Foxton

We zipped up the locks, aided by two lock keepers and followed by a huge crowd of gongoozlers, some of whom bought preserves as we rose. We had planned to moor and trade at the top of the locks but it was another blistering hot day and the lure of shade was greater than a few sales. We moved on and found a shady spot where we settled down for the night near bride 59.

Sunday's agenda was to make the short trip to the Welford Arm and watch the world cup final between France ant Coatia. This involved a passage through the Husbands Bosworth Tunnel and then on to the Welford Junction. This little arm is both narrow and shallow but given the remoteness of the canal in this area it offers on the the few opportunities to touch base with civilisation, and is therefore very popular. The end moorings were in full sun so we winded and returned to a tree lined section, just above the arm's single little lock. 

Sunset at Welford

The internet signal was a bit iffy but the we were able to watch the match by putting Helen's phone in a trainer tied to the roof !

The drive to reach Debdale

Loughborough to Debdale

July 2018

I booked a rental van today and was asked my location. A simple question but one which is always a bit difficult to answer when out boating. There is the place we are now, the place where we expect to be at a point in time and of course our home address.  I decided to start with our "now" address and said Loughborough. At the end of the discussion the location was repeated back to me and some garbled translation emerged which sounded nothing like Loughborough (clearly not a local). The problem is that I cant see the place written down without hearing the antipodean version in my head "LoogieBarruga". This particular little earworm is, of course, entirely due to a weekend we spent in the area with Sandra and Barry.

Loughborough Flood Lock

Anyway. With all this hot weather we decided to implement the "River Wey" strategy which essentially means starting off in the clool at 6.30am and then holing up under a tree from 11.00am and moving on again after 6.00pm when things have cooled down a bit. Well, we got the start right but the rest didn't go according to plan. We were off through the the Loughborough flood gates with the sun low on the eastern horizon, the misty River Soar winding its was south. All very idyllic. 

Soar above Loughborough

Somewhere along the way, and I have lost the exact location in a heat haze, we passed a short ice breaker moored on the off side with an elderly couple standing in the hatches. I was interested in their boat because it clearly had some history, but before I had an opportunity to ask about it they told me that they had the cabin section of The Jam Butty built to tow behind the boat they were standing on. For years I have offered the story of how the original version of the butty was 30ft long and was built to trail behind a short ice breaker tug and now I have found it. I love these little chance meetings where bits of a jigsaw come together.

The builders of the back section of The Jam Butty

We met some contractors our spraying Floating Pennywort at Cossington Lock and were so engrossed in our discussion about the week we completely missed the turn left sign. Instead we plodded up the attractive river in front of us till a warning shout from a moored boat alerted us to our error. "The last chap to make that mistake took two days to get out again!" We turned and retraced our steps with more than a bit of embarrassment.

Dont miss this sign, even if the river looks like it goes straight ahead

Our objective was to reach Leicester but in the event we entered the straight mile and found the visitor moorings both full and basting in full sun. The shady alternatives were on the west bank but these were adjacent to seats surrounded by bottles and debris - not an inviting spot for a hot Friday night.

Our enthusiasm for Leicester was not high in the first place and was not encouraged by a bunch of teenage boys swimming in a lock as we tried to empty it. They have no sense of the dangers involved and perhaps the most horrible thing was watching two dead rats bobble out from between our boats as we emerged from the lock. Yuck, yuck, yuck.

You may have noticed that I bough a Tilley hat in Saltaire and one of its selling points was that they float. Coming through Leicester I was hit by an unexpected gust of wind and off it went into the canal behind us. With the hat safely recovered, and rinsed, I can confirm that they do indeed float.

How to end a hot day (grandchildren's forgiveness sought)

So we pressed on upstream passing through another half a dozen locks stopping as the river section ended at Kings Lock at 5.00pm. With the waterway narrowing dramatically it was time to drop the butty into its astern position, the first time it has not been beside us since Skipton about three weeks ago. It may have been a long day but we covered 19 miles and 13 locks which is pretty much two days of normal travel. This puts us well ahead of schedule and means we can have a few shorter days.

Saturday dawned clear and bright (again) so we made a start on the Grand Union Leicester Section of canal. The canal is technically broad (14ft wide locks) but the channel is only really wide enough fro narrow boats (7ft) and many of the pounds between the locks were 12 to 18 inched lower than normal. We therefore inched from lock to lock eventually covering just six miles and nine locks to reach a bit of shade at Kilby. We stopped at 2.30pm, with just enough time to set up the TV and watch England play Sweeden which was a 2 - 0 win - but we lost signal 2 mins from the extra time and had to resort to old fashioned texts to our Dan to confirm the final score.

The evening was spent chatting to other boaters who, inevitably, came to look at the butty and stock up on preserves. All this passive selling has been constant this season which is very gratifying. 

Sunday and another day of intense sun. There was no church within 1.5 miles of our mooring and Helen's ankle wont carry her that far yet, so we were up at 6am with the aim of finishing the last 12 wide locks on the ascent to Market Harborough. We managed this in the relative cool of early morning, passing a large group of Galmping adults using Gas Pipe Lock as their personal swimming pool. They were little better than the kids in Leicester as one still dived in after I had raised the paddles to empty it! He didnt like being told to stay out.... I did observe that I had pushed past the bloated carcass of a dead sheep two locks down and no doubt there were others further up, and then went on to mention the symptoms of Weil's Disease. The "leader" said the risk of Weil's was overstated and he swam in the canal all the time and that he was a live aboard boater - as if that makes a difference! He clearly hadn't warned or informed his  friends didn't because they blanched at the talk of dead bodies, rats pee and diseases. I don't know if we had any impact but if they do have any symptoms later on they may just seek help.

The plan was to stop in shade as soon after the top lock as possible but could I find any? Could I like heck. The canal margins were all reeds and where there was a firm edge there was no shade. And so we drifted on, and on. We went through the Saddington Tunnel which offered some welcome shade but beyond the towpath switched sides and shade was elusive as ever. In the end we continued to Debdale Wharf, a location which was the end of the canal for several years when the builders ran out of money. Then, just before the winding hole the trees arched over the water from both side and we had found a mooring with shade and even a hint of breeze. 

We set of the paddling pool on the back deck and put in a couple of gallons of cold water which was used to cool some hot feet and provide a fit of respite from the heat. It may look daft but it felt great.

A cracking Crick

Crick 2013

May 2013

The weather has smiled on Crick this year and the crowds have flocked in to participate in the Inland Waterways premier boating festival. Not that I have seen a lot of it. 

Wild Side has woven its stick charm on the attendees and the activity on the stall was pretty relentless, leaving little time to wander round the various exhibits. In fact I have learned more about the festival from the various blog posts than I did from first hand experience.

Kildare

President in oils and in the flesh

More canal art

For us it was a mix of business and socialising, meeting friends old and new who showed up at the stall and sampled the Wild Side wares.

Queen of the cordials

To be honest, so many people came up to us to say hello, comment on our Canal Boat article of to poke gentle fum and poor old Capt Ahab we cant even begin to remember who you all were! Can I offer a collective thank you for all your kind words and friendship - whilst the show was a success in a commercial sense, the real profit was in meeting so many friendly faces.

Bloggers reunited

To pluck one particular meeting out of the mele, I would highlight the meeting of Halfie, Adam and myself - three blogging friends which ended in a very extended visit to the pub and and much delayed evening meal.

The sunnier face of Crick 2013

As I write this we are back at home and Wand'ring Bark is preparing for a return under the command of Mr Truth, one of my trusty return skippers. 

A final backward glance from our mooring at Crick 3013 - till next time

The road that led to Crick

Crick Festival D-1

May 2013

The last leg of our journey was mostly spent underground - in the Crick tunnel. 

Crick is notorious for its wetness at the eastern end but compared to what was outside it was a veritable desert.  The heavens opened and the rain cascaded down all morning dampening the spirits of all those trying to erect their marquees, with the canvas being ripped from numb fingers.

As an inland waterways boat festival you would imagine that carrying commercials loads would be taken in their stride, but no. The  whole idea of canals being used to carry produce seems to be a bit alien. And we were the only boat to show up and ask a surprised harbour master permission to dock in the main marina basin and tranship our load to the Water Vole Gourmet Food Marquee.

Of course, all did not go quite as planned. First we were expecting tables and therefore didn't bring our own. Our panic was allayed when the organisers magic'd a couple of trestle tables out of this air! Hurray for the WW team. Then the weather sought to prove whey canal transport is a stupid idea. The rain was either heavy or torrential as I ferried an overloaded sack barrow to and fro - getting soaked to the skin. Ten loads later and I vacated the trip boat mooring with Persident literally steaming into our vacated slot.

Amid all the rain I only got  one photo of Wand'ring Bark being unloaded in the main basin, slick with cold rain.

Amid all the rain I did squelch past one engine manufacturer as they hauled their shiny red demo model from the truck. I was amazed to see that they have cracked the rising cost of diesel problem. Instead of fuel they had come kitted out with a huge pallet of Carlesburg Lager - maybe that accounts for the huge number of Carlesburg cans bobbing in the BCN.

But the panic is over and as I sit here in the cratch (lousy 3G signal) supping my home brew life seems better. Coffee was shared with Adam and Adrian (Briar Rose), the stall is erected and loaded with lots of Jams, Jellies, Chutmeys, Vinegars and Mustards, and all we have to do is walk over and start to trade at 10.00am.

Perhaps the best news is that the bad weather of the last few days has passed and its now set fair for the coming weekend. The festival site looks great with loads to see so, if you are looking for a trip out this weekend you could do a lot worse than come over to Crick and share in the  experience of the UK's premier boat show.

The road to Crick - upping the Ansty

The road to Crick - Part 3

May 2013

Day 5 - Snarestone to Ansty - 29 miles - 1 lock - 10.5 hours

Day 6 - Ansty to Crick - 30 miles - 10 locks - 12 hours

Phew - what a couple of days! The weather has been decidedly "off" with strong northerly winds bringing all the seasons in the space of an hour, let alone a day.

We have managed nearly 60 miles from the far end of the Ashby in just two long days, and wenow sit at the western end of the Crick tunnel ready to click into Wild Side mode tomorrow.

The bird of prey was coming off worse.

Yesterday kicked off with yet more socialising with our friends John and Sue joining us as part of John's 50 and quite a lot birthday, travelling from Snarestone for about three hours to Bosworth Battlefield.

The Globe Shackerstone

The route passes a well known motorcycle manufacturer and reminds me of an old joke : Q Who is history's first recorded motorcycle hooligan? A: King David whose Triumph was heard across the land...

The weather kept the boated tied up leaving us to travel crabwise with a strong side wind making steering very tricky.

The plan was to stop at Hawkesbury but all the visiting spots were occupied by some rather ramshackle boats and we were obliged to plug in into the sunset and moot in the relative peace  of Ansty. But even here the roar of the M6 and M62's combined to give a less than perfect night.

The North Oxford was sparkling in the morning sun and the old iron roving bridges were a delight:

Bad weather was forecast for Thursday so we decided to make an early start (6.30am) and make the best of the morning. The wind roared from the north but the rain mostly kept its distance just a couple of miles to the east. We did finally get a downpour as we started up the Braunston flight, with hail and sleet blasting us but by the time we reached the top lock the wind had died, the sun was out and all those winter coats were hurriedly packed away.

With the sun shining down we decided to press on the the foot of the Watford Locks and then as we just had time to enter before closing time we carried on up, covering a significant 30 miles in one long 12 hour stint. To be honest - its way too much, but needs must and we are now just 30 mins from the festival site and will have all day to get set up.

Market Harborough

Market Harborough

20th April 2011

You may have thought that my post which ended in Market Harborough didn't really do Union Wharf justice. Market Harborough is an interesting destination and I felt it justified a post of its own.

Union Wharf - Market Harborough

I have to admit this I arrived with high expectations. After all, this was the site of the inaugural IWA festival back in the 1950's and all those grainy black and white photos suggested a location redolent with atmosphere.

The mere existence of the canal to Market Harborough is a story in itself. The original plan had been to build a wide beam canal to connect the Erewash canal system to Northampton and then on to London but as was so often the case the project ran out of dosh at what is now Debdale Wharf. After a number of years more money was raise and work progressed as far as Market Harborough but there it stalled again, this time for good.

In the end the Grand Union Canal Company despaired and built an alternative route from Foxton to Crick, leaving the five lockless miles to Market Harborough as an arm.

Early morning tranquility of the Market Harborough Arm

As for Union Wharf - it spectacularly fails to deliver on its promise. Sure it is all spick and span as you would expect from one of Leicester's up market dormitory towns, and unquestionably safe but it is sanitised to the point of tedium.

Little of the old remains, with the basin surrounded by flats and housing. This residential bias means that quiet is valued over all and that in turn means that what should be a honey pot location dosnt even have a pub - just a restaurant which only sells bottled beer.

OK, the BW facilities are all there but the basin set up means that visitors have nowhere to stop and have to skulk away beyond the entrance to fine one of the scarce moorings. There are a few long term moorings but most of the space is taken up by a huge fleet of "hire a canal boat" craft (Canaltime was so much more catchy, don't you think?).

Smelly Fish, Blood and Bone meal factory

So, I guess I could best describe Union Wharf as over restored and devoid of character. A regeneration architect's dream but a history buffs nightmare. As for visiting boaters, is OK. Bland, safe but ultimately unmemorable.

Leicester Ring - Crick to Rugby

Leicester Ring 2011

Crick to Rugby

22 April 2011

19 miles - 16 locks - 9 hours (plus four stopped)

This was the day the plan went to Hell in a handcart.

As you will have gathered, this trip has been slightly marred by an excessive amount of clock watching. We have had to maintain our schedule if we are to make it back to base in the days available, allowing me to return to work. My employers are happy to let me juggle my diary but the do draw the line at failing to show up!

Hillmorton sunset

We started our day on the "wrong" side of Crick tunnel so set off at 7.45 am to be sure we didn't have any problems at Watford Locks. Faint hope. At 7.30 an ABC hire boat came past triggering our departure but by the time we reached the top lock they were third from first but we drew up in 12th place. Suddenly I came to appreciate the frustrations these narrow staircases placed on working boats. We were on holiday but still we had time pressures and the minutes waiting soon accumulated and turned into hours. The lock keepers allow six boats up and six down and our turn came after 3.5 hours meaning we didn't exit the flight till 1.30pm.

Watford Jam

Our delay did offer scope for a variety of boating hobbies. One of the rising boats knew the crew of the boat behind us and thet paused for a cup of tea and a quick folk jam session. Others polished their boats and as for me? I fired up the laptop and edited a few days photos. It's amazing how time passes on the water. Oh the joys of bank holiday boating.

Descending Watford locks

The Grand Union came as a relief, broad and deep. By now it was sweltering hot and I had donned my sunglasses, striking a vary cool dude image, but then came my undoing. We were following a boat with a very smoke vintage engine and as we entered Braunston tunnel we discovered just how bad the fumes were. The tunnel was full of smoke reducing visibility to that of a pea soup fog. Sunglasses were just too much and I was marginally better off with no glasses, but also no clear vision beyond 12 inches! It was all very disorientating till Jeff saved the day by finding my regular specs, after which we shivered our way through in very inappropriate shorts and tee shirts.

Take out pints at Braunston

We were pleased to find no queues at the Braunston locks, slaking our thirsts with a couple of pints at the Admiral Nelson half way down. With provisions low I had promised Belle a visit to Tesco's at Rugby, still three hours away. But as it was already 5.00pm when we exited the flight  a late finish was inevitable. To compound the issue I noticed a familiar boat as we approached the twin roving bridges at the junction. We had planed to meet Bones at Braunston but in the end she wasn't expecting to arrive till Saturday whilst we expected to pass through on Friday morning. Bones got ahead of plan just as we fell behind so, by a fortunate set of circumstances, we finally met up. We breasted up, creating an interesting navigation hazard and spent a very pleasant hour enjoying a "gin o clock" moment, catching up on the gossip before taking our leave and setting off into the sunset.

Boots

The seven miles to Hillmorton dragged by interminably. Literally hundreds of boats were moored up on this remote stretch, slowing progress to a crawl. Of course, we found ourselves behind a rookie Black Prince boat who persisted in cutting corners with predictable groundings. Fortunately for us, they performed this manouver one time too ofter when we were close behind and then we were past - destination Rugby.

Braunston

I have never seen Hillmorton looking better. The sun was setting beneath a hot and hazy horizon and we found every lock set for us and every top gate open. The sun offered a fine spectacle, with its last orange rays reflecting back up off the water and lighting each chamber with a fiery hue.

 Working down Hillmorton Locks

We did indeed make it to Tesco, at nine pm with the shadows rapidly turning to black rendering the Pearson unreadable, which is my rule of thumb for too dark to travel. One very long day but we are on target ready to greet more guests who will accompany us on tomorrows travels to Polesworth.

Leicester Ring - Welford Arm

Leicester Ring 2011

Welford Arm

21 April 2011

What can I say, the Welford Arm is a complete gem. Small in every way but perfectly formed, a great distraction from the main line to Leicester and well worth a visit.

Welford's wharf

Its much more satisfying that the Market Harborough arm for all its diminutive 1.75 miles length. Another curious fact is that the canal has its own little lock which raises the canal about four feet for its final 400 meters to its terminus, making this the highest point on the while of the Grand Union system. It eclipses all the summits between here and London and the final pound from Knowle to the Camp Hill Locks in Birmingham.

Welford's little lock

The end of the canal boasts a pretty little marina containing less than 60 boats, a working boatyard, a dry docs and a traditional warehouse with a bay offering just enough space for two visiting boats to snuggle up withing staggering distance of the adjacent pub.

Welford basin

Whilst the canal terminates at Leicestershire, a short stroll through the lovingly tended "pocket park" takes you over a diminutive River Avon and into Northamptonshire within which the village of Welford sits. Not that there is a lot to Welford's high street, just a pub, a well patronised Post Office / stores and a garage at the far end. Its clearly a community place, with the locals erecting statues, maintaining parks and offering monthly film shows in the village hall.

Postman Pat indicates the way to the village post office.

Not a bad place to live, in my opinion.

Leicester Ring - Market Harborough to Crick

Leicester 2011

Market Harborough to Crick

21 April 2011

28 Miles - 12 Locks - 10 Hours

I am glad that I dedicated a whole post to Foxton, because that leaves more space for today's missive.

Horse sculpture above Foxton locks

The 67ft of ascent at Foxton lifts the Grand Union Leicester Section to the 412ft contour which the canal sticks to all the way to Crick. You get the feeling that when the GUCC built this canal they decided on a roll up the sleeves and no nonsense approach - a big staircase at each end and a very long summit pound with two long tunnels. The only snag was that they built the locks to a narrow gauge, which was undoubtedly a mistake with hindsight.

This summit pound is arguably the canal at its best. Mile after mile of rolling fields, many clothed in a searing carpet of Oil Seed Rape yellow. This area has a remote beauty to it, winding through the wolds of Leicestershire and Northamptonshire, skirting low hills with names like Laughton, Hemplow, Downton and Cracks, each rising about 100 ft above this lofty summit of the Grand Union system. 

Downton Hill

The first big structure id the Husband Bosworth tunnel - 1170 yards of dry double width bore which has to be negotiated before the diminutive Welford Arm. I am a total sucker for side arms and this one is a real peach, so I will merely say that we did make our way to the end of this little stub of a canal but such was its attraction that it deserves a post all of its own. More of that next time.

The canal winds its way generally south but such is the terrain that it takes two miles of water to achieve one mile of progress as the crow flies. Frustrating for a commercial boat owner but for me it meant that it was just more miles of rural idyll, more miles to bask in the spring sunshine, and more miles to daydream away before we hit the bustle of the main Grand Union which lies just beyond Crick.

There are no towns and very few villages hereabouts. That means very limited opportunities to restock depleted larders and few pubs to slake the thirsts of enthusiastic boaters. The moral of this tale is to take plenty of supplies, including a few crated of beer for consumption under shady canal side trees.

We  finally rolled into Crick, passing two marina's, the new one at Yelvertoft and the more familiar one in Crick itself before reaching the village and a rendezvous with some old friends over to share the evening with us. In the dying moments of the day the skipper of an IWA boat throttled back, leaned over the taff rail and advised me that he regularly reads about the travels of Wand'ring Bark within the pages of Captain Ahab's Watery Tales!