Dangerous quad bike on towpath in Market Harborough

Ooh - almost a week has passed since my last post! I have some catching up to do.

I painted both tunnel bands and the red bits on the bow. It was the first time I'd used masking tape on the boat (yes, I know) and I think it was remarkably successful.

For reference, here is what the bow looked like before.

As well as wielding the blacking roller and welding sticks Ollie is the master of the boat-lifting crane.

It certainly looks like a fun toy to play with, although there is a certain amount of responsibility too!

Once we were put back in the water we set off for Foxton. We must have just missed a "down" slot as we had to wait for four boats to come up. There was a further delay as we waited for a single boat to reach the half-way pound before we could descend the second staircase.

We tied up for the night outside the Foxton Locks Inn, which was closed. I fancied a pint at the Bridge 61 pub after tea, but when we walked round the bunch of drinkers outside explained that that pub was closed as well. Difficulty in getting staff to work the evenings, apparently. They were a friendly bunch of chaps who encouraged us to get our own drinks and join them, which we did.

The next day (Tuesday 10th) we travelled to Market Harborough. You need a good run-up to close the swing footbridge. If you let the momentum drop it comes to a stop and is impossible to get going again without opening it again.

In the evening we found the Cherry Tree pub in Little Bowden and met up with two of the drinkers (Steen(?) and Mark) from the previous day. We did not join them in the Bengal Kitchen as we had already eaten.

My Railcard was finally delivered to North Kilworth Marina today, so I cycled the 7.5 miles along the A4304 to get it. And 7.5 miles back. The return journey was quicker as it seemed to be more downhill and the wind was in my favour.

An unpleasant aspect of our stay in Market Harborough was the outrageous and dangerous behaviour of youths on a quad bike on the narrow towpath both yesterday and today. They were speeding up and down, past our boat, with complete disregard for other - legitimate - users of the towpath.

Three dog walkers we spoke to said how they had been frightened as the quad bike roared past them at speed without giving way. One said the quad bike swerved round her and almost hit her dog.

Jan phoned the police, who said they would "send someone to have a look". Of course, the youths had gone and it's very unlikely anything will happen.  The police weren't interested in my photos; I can do no more.

We tied up just before Foxton.  Nice and peaceful here (although a man did ride past quite fast on an electric bike - not the normal type with pedals, more like a motorbike with electric power - at least it was quiet).

You wouldn't want this in your back tyre

We had a bit of time before the first locks today, so I tackled the puncture. It didn't take long to find. This must be the longest foreign object I've had in a tyre: a two-inch nail. No wonder the tyre deflated so rapidly. Two patches later - over the entry and exit holes - the repair seems to be holding up. It lasted throughout the Stockton flight, anyway.

At a Boaters' Christian Fellowship event last year a member was disposing of a number of boating bits and pieces. I came away with a Dunton Double aluminium windlass. I usually eschew ally windlasses owing to the difficulty of retrieving them if they get dropped in the cut, but the addition of some hose clips should give me at least a fighting chance. 

The Dunton Double is a cunning combination of a large eye and a small eye windlass: when using on a small spindle - the more common type - the head of the windlass goes right over the spindle until it engages with the small eye. On a large, square-ended spindle such as on the paddle gear on the locks of the Grand Union between Calcutt and Birmingham, just the first part of the head fits over the spindle. It worked really well on all of yesterday's and today's locks, but I shall probably revert to my iron single small eye windlass from tomorrow for the Braunston locks etc.

I was surprised to see another CRT man checking lock gates today. He didn't seem to know the person I saw yesterday.

Ah - the HS2 crossing just west of Welsh Road Lock. It's like a small town is created wherever the new railway goes.

This temporary bridge over the canal looks like a conveyor bridge.

It ends oddly in an uplift.

At quite a few of today's locks I saw that the chains which usually dangle down the lock sides had been pulled up and left on the coping stones. I asked CRT about this (there was a maintenance team about) and they said that people do it to avoid the chains scratching their boats. It shouldn't be done, though. The chains should be left dangling in the lock as hauling them up creates a trip hazard.

At Lock 6, near the top of the Stockton flight, we came across the first non-working paddle of the whole trip so far. Not bad going, considering we have done something like 90 locks, with each lock having usually four paddles.

The house at Wigram's Turn (Napton Junction) still has its strange clouds on the wall.

And now some very poor photos of lapwings.

We know they were lapwings as Jan's Birdnet app on her phone identified them as such from their calls.

They make a most unusual electronic gadget-type sound of bleeping and whistling.

Apparently lapwings are the same as peewits.

We saw and heard the lapwings where we tied up betweren Lower Shuckburgh and Flecknoe on the Grand Union/Oxford Canal.

Birmingham to London runners saved from dysentery?

First thing this morning I cycled back to Shrewley to buy a newspaper. I went by road as the towpath was rather muddy. By towpath it would have been slightly more than a mile; by road, although reasonably direct, it seemed to be about three miles each way.

And then it was off down the Hatton flight - but first, an appointment with the Elsan disposal point.  Here I was astonished to find two large (40 litre?) drinking water containers being filled from the rinsing hose for the portable poo tanks.  Two white vans were parked there, with three people in hi-viz vests filling the containers.  I asked what they were doing, and they said that the café had said that it was the same water that went to the canalside water point.  Well, yes, but was it to be used as drinking water?  Yes, they said brightly, it was for the Birmingham to London runners.  I pointed out that the hose they were putting in their nice new water containers had previously been down the neck of a loo cassette, just like the one I was holding.  They then - rather reluctantly - poured the water away and started talking about getting some disinfecting tablets from Boots as they drove away.  I hate to think how many runners might have been doing rather more running than they bargained for had I not just happened to come across this.  There were no signs indicating that "This is not drinking water" as there usually are by Elsan points.

Until that point I hadn't noticed the dribs and drabs of runners with numbers jogging down the towpath.  As we made our way down the locks they came past, but they seemed to be more the tail-end Charlies than the elite super-marathoners.  There was a semi-official-looking photographer and a smattering of watchers near the CRT "Welcome Station".
 

Once we had passed here, i.e. having done four locks, a volunteer lockie started going ahead and setting the locks for us. That was very handy for the next six locks, but then he walked back up the flight leaving us on our own again. But that was fine, I had my bike and we worked efficiently. We did the whole flight of 21 locks in 2 hours 45 minutes.

Some of the paddle gear sported shiny new stainless steel bolts.
 

We stopped for lunch just above Cape Locks; then moved on to Leamington Spa, where we have tied up outside Lidl.

One thing I forgot to mention a couple of days ago is that we saw many bats in Brandwood Tunnel.  They were flying around, buzzing the boat, clearly picked out by our tunnel light.

How often does a canal flood?

Ah - that's better. Photos have uploaded, so now I can write about yesterday and today.

The newish flats at Dickens Heath have been furnished with flood boards, which would seem to me to be an unnecessary and expensive precaution.  Canals rarely flood as they have overspill weirs to deal with excess water.
 

I suppose in an extreme case of a huge downpour the overspill weirs might not cope immediately, but would the canal really rise above the edge?  Perhaps there's another watercourse nearby which I haven't considered ...

Well, summer seemed to arrive suddenly yesterday. I did quite a bit of cycling around King's Heath, Stirchley and Yardley Wood and got quite warm. Back on the boat we enjoyed the rural Stratford Canal away from the Birmingham connurbation.

We stopped at Hockley Heath where we joined fellow BCFers Ingrid and Kit for drinks in the Wharf Tavern.

Today we continued down the Stratford Canal. We met up with my former colleague Ian, who has recently joined the ranks of the retired. We gave him a lift from Hockley Heath down to Lapworth Top Lock and enjoyed a chat in his garden.

This is the only photo I took on the Lapworth Flight.

At Bridge 35, two locks above the Lapworth Link, the fierce bywash pushed the boat into the brick arch. Some paint was removed from the top left corner. A boat was following us down the locks; I reckon the extra water coming down with it was what caused the problem.

We turned right onto the Grand Union and passed this pair of gently rotting hulks. 
 

I think I photograph them every time we pass - it would be interesting to juxtapose the images to see the decline.

One more photo for you: Shrewley Tunnel north west portal with horse tunnel.

We tied up half a mile before Hatton Locks: we have that joy tomorrow. In dry conditions! (We had some light rain on the GU.)

Stop! Thief! That's my bike!

Inspired by Jim's bus exploits on http://narrowboatstarcross.blogspot.com/ (Blogger has changed: I can seemingly no longer insert a link in the old way) I decided to use the bus as part of the journey to get our car from Fazeley where we had left it. I was starting from Market Drayton which, sadly, no longer has a railway line - let alone a station - leaving bus as an essential part of doing this by public transport. I started with the crazy idea of doing the whole trip by bus, but it would have entailed multiple changes and would have taken a long time. I decided, then, to use bus and train - and cycle where necessary. Jim would have relished the bus challenge, but agreed that my route was easier and more suited to a bus "novice" such as me. Having been assured that buses can take folding bicycles I waited at Market Drayton Bus Station for the 1111 bus to Hanley, i.e. Stoke-on-Trent. The bus arrived from Shrewsbury a few minutes early, giving me and three or four other passengers plenty of time to board. I really can't remember the previous time I used a bus. When it got under way it felt most odd not wearing a seat belt. Between Market Drayton and Newcastle-under-Lyme we went through a couple of villages off the main road, negotiating some rather narrow country lanes en route.

From Newcastle-under-Lyme the bus went near to Stoke-on-Trent railway station before finishing up at Hanley Bus Station. By the time I realised the proximity of the railway station it was too late to press the button to ring the bell to stop the bus, so I got off at the end of the run and cycled down the hill - crossing the Caldon Canal on the way - to get the train.

Here I made my first proper mistake. There was a queue at the ticket office so I used a machine to get a ticket for Stafford, forgetting to use my railcard and thus forgoing a discount of £2. This is the train I caught, here at Stafford Station at the end of this third leg of the journey (bus, bike and train 1).

At Stafford I bought my final train ticket, this time from the ticket office with my railcard, to take me on to Tamworth. I could have got a ticket from Stoke to Tamworth but splitting here, where I had to change anyway, saved £6 or so on the full price. This is where things got interesting. I boarded the train and leant my bike against the folding seats next to the loo, as I had done on the previous train. At Rugeley Trent Valley some passengers got off, and I glanced over towards the loo and saw NO BIKE! One of the passengers, a young man, was calmly pushing a bike across the platform to the exit. I grabbed by bag, leapt off the train and ran after him. Hey! Stop! That's my bike! I shouted as I charged past the two or three other people who had got off. The thief stopped and looked round at the lunatic who was running towards him. Only he wasn't a thief. It wasn't my bike. Oh no! What had I done? What an idiot! I raced back to the train, still stationary, but the doors were locked and unresponsive to my desperate jabbing at the button. As the train pulled away, with my bike heading to London, I looked around. Rugeley Trent Valley is an unmanned station. There was a help/information pillar, but it wasn't exactly a 999-type of emergency, and I didn't want train timetable information. As I stood there I noticed two workers in hi-viz just outside the station. One was Openreach - and the other was an Avanti West Coast (train company) person. I explained my predicament. He calmly went to his car, tapped away on his laptop for a bit, asked my to describe the bike and then made a phone call. In the heat of the moment I couldn't remember the make of my bike, so I phoned Jan - whose head was clearer than mine - and got the make and colour (!). The Avanti angel finished his call and told me that my bike would be taken off the train at Tamworth and would be waiting for me in the ticket office. Wow! All I had to do was get the next train and hope the bike would be looked after as promised. As I ate my sandwiches in the shelter on the platform, trying not to let the wind blow the rain on me too much, I mentally kicked myself for being so stupid. I worked out that the eight-coach train was two four-coach sets joined together, with the loo compartments next to each other. I had somehow got confused about which loo my bike was near. I also thanked the Lord that he had provided such an amazing means of resolving the problem. At last the hour was up, and the 1405 rolled into the station. No sooner had we got under way, though, than the next part of the saga started to manifest itself. The guard announced that it seemed that there was a problem ahead and that we should listen out for further announcements. It soon transpired that a person had been hit by a train in the Rugby area. We pulled in to Lichfield Trent Valley Station. The guard announced that there had been a fatality near Atherstone and that the train we were on might have to return to Crewe. How terrible, and it put my bike worries into context. After a few minutes the guard suggested that London-bound passengers might like to transfer to the high level platform where they could get a train to Birmingham and continue their journey from there. I went to the ticket office and asked how long it would take for me to get to Tamworth via Birmingham. Ooh - it could take an hour and a half. Better get the bus, love. Well, I reasoned that I was in no particular hurry, that a bus would cost me an extra fare, that continuing by train would not cost me anything and that I'd see some more bits of Birmingham. There was another option, which was to ring my friends in Fazeley, eight miles away, to see if they could pick me up. I knew they had gone out to lunch; by the time they returned my call I was already on the train to Birmingham. We stopped at stations I didn't know existed, including Gravelly Hill. Claim to fame? The motorway interchange known as Spaghetti Junction, of course!

So that was leg five completed, having stopped at just about every station between Lichfield Trent Valley and Birmingham New Street - here's the train about to continue to Redditch.

I didn't have long to wait for the train to Tamworth; once on board I wasn't expecting any further incidents. I was wrong. The train started to go really slowly, just creeping along for what seemed like ages. Then BANG! Some substantial branches of a "windblown tree" (as CRT sometimes puts it) crashed and thudded along the windows right where I was. The train wasn't merely brushing past foliage: that had already been ripped off. A few seconds later, when the driver had judged that the train was past the tree I suppose, we speeded up again. At last I was in Tamworth Station. I asked about the bike ... and YES! Hooray! They had it. I filled out a form to claim it and there we were, reunited. The staff there were very friendly, as, of course, had been the Avanti chap at Rugeley. So top marks to them all. The time was now 1650. I cycled to Fazeley where David and Mary gave me cups of tea and some food; just before 1900 I set off in the car for the hour and ten minute drive back to Market Drayton. Even this journey had "interest": the strong winds had blown plenty of debris from trees onto the road. At one point an oncoming car had to stop because of a large piece of tree in its way. I half expected the day to be rounded off with a branch through the windscreen but, fortunately, nothing further untoward happened. I arrived back in Market Drayton just after 2000. Cost of tickets: bus from Market Drayton to Hanley £3.60; train from Stoke-on-Trent to Stafford £6.00; train from Stafford to Tamworth £4.45. Total: £14.05 (but should have been £12.05 if I'd remembered the railcard earlier). Of course, I could have done it for nothing if I'd cycled the whole way, and it probably wouldn't have taken any longer! More posts will follow on our boating from Fazeley to Market Drayton, where we have a new mooring.

Meal out rounds off a day of maintenance

Here is the promised photo of the Morse control, looking from the back. At the top you can see the two metal clips, the right-hand one of which had slipped down to prevent the lever moving beyond the tickover position.

I spent some time baling out the bilge sump under the stern gland. A lot of water had appeared there over the last couple of weeks. Could it all have come from the stern gland? I have a drip catcher which has been filling more quickly than it used to, so I tightened the stern gland a little and mopped up all the water I could. Something to keep an eye on.

Another repair job was to get my bike sorted out. It had lain unused for months with a flat back tyre. My tardiness in getting round to fixing it was because I had thought that the hub gear cable would need to be removed before I could get the wheel off. In the end I found that not to be necessary, and I successfully replaced both the inner tube and the outer tyre. The old inner tube had 16 repair patches!

This evening we went to Mad O'Rourke's Pie Factory just up the road in Tipton. We were part of a party of ten and had a most enjoyable time. The Lumphammer Bitter (3.6%) was by far the tastiest ale I sampled (beating Sledgehammer (5.6%) and the Ruby Mild (6.0%).

L-R: Keith, Colin, Helen, Andy, Tim, Tracey, Sue and Jo.  The chap at the top of the photo with his thumb up is photobombing.

I'm hoping to organise a similar meal out in two or three days, to a curry house.

Visitors from the Caribbean

Today ... it rained. It rained on the Megabus coach I took from Oxford to Coventry. It rained on me cycling from Coventry to Pailton, where I'd left the car. It rained a bit on the car as I drove to Yarnton, but it didn't rain on me as I cycled from Yarnton to Oxford. I had the heating on full blast in the car to try to warm my feet which had got soaked and cold. I discovered on my bike ride that my iPhone 4S doesn't work properly when there's rainwater on the screen and my fingers are cold and wet. Do other phones suffer in the same way?

I got back to the boat at about 1620 and had two very welcome cups of tea. Thanks, Jan. I was about to eat a slice of lemon sponge cake when I became aware of three people outside the boat. I poked my head out of the door and got talking to them. They were friendly and interested in the boat; at least two of them hadn't seen a narrowboat before.

After talking for a bit I invited them aboard for a look round - they were thrilled. The middle one in the photo had just graduated from Oxford Brookes; her sister and mother had come over from Turks and Caicos in the Caribbean for the event. If I have it right the one on the right is Ocean; Mother's name is something like Rachaela. (I have to confess my ignorance here: I had never heard of Turks and Caicos, a British Overseas Territory.)

When we said goodbye to them we set off up the Oxford Canal. There were three lift bridges to operate before we got to Yarnton, all in one half-mile stretch (bridges 234, 233 and 231). Each is supposed to be operated by turning your BW/CRT key in the lock and raising the handle which is connected directly to the bridge deck. To lower the bridge again there is a chain dangling from the handle.

At Lift Bridge 233 the lock is missing so anyone can operate the bridge.

Now there is a CRT notice asking boaters to work the bridge by crossing and pulling a chain. Only there is no chain the other side. The only easy way to operate it is by lifting the handle, as described above. Perhaps this notice was meant for another bridge.

Approaching Duke's Lock it seemed that someone was emptying the lock. But when we got nearer it became apparent that it was just a leaky bottom gate. The lock was almost full, though, as the top gate was probably even leakier.

Sharing locks and mending punctures

After church we set off towards Birmingham at about 1245. Our friends Robert and Margaret on Blue Iris were also heading our way so we agreed to stick together and share locks: this is Calcutt Bottom Lock.

The entrance of Ventnor Marina is very daffodilly.

We stopped at Itchington Bottom by The Two Boats but decided against eating out again. After tea on board, then, I repaired three punctures in the back wheel of my bike, all collected on one section of towpath by Atherstone Locks. All hawthorn, er, thorns. I found that my tinnitus really got in the way of locating the punctures by ear - everything seemed to be hissing. Back to the usual method: detecting the leaks by upper lip.

Tomorrow we shall pair up again as far as Leamington Spa, where we will stop for provisions.

Fairy tale cottage

On one of my many bike rides between car and boat I passed this cottage at Roxton Park. You half expect Hansel and Gretel to be around the corner.

I have been really enjoying the cycling, especially as I can't remember having had to do any in rain this year. Apart from one short leg which I did by train (from Downham Market to Peterborough - and that involved a few miles on the bike at each end) I have cycled from St Neots to Bedford to Downham Market and Stanground to Northampton to Grafton Regis to Braunston to Bedworth. The cycling is in the reverse direction to the boating as I have to go back to retrieve the car each time. We actually started by boat from Fazeley but I got a lift back there from Bedworth after a meal with Terry and Christine (nb Grace).

At some stage I should calculate the mileage I've cycled. It won't come near the mileage I used to do between home and work (7 miles each way) in a year. It has certainly been a lot more fun than commuting.

Weed cutter? Cable lifter? And the biggest basin we've moored in

On our travels today we encountered this strange paddle wheeled craft.

It was being operated under a white cable spanning the river ...

… and had fearsome-looking serrated fangs. It didn't seem to be a weed cutter and it seemed to be driven too fast to be looking for a submerged cable. Anyone know what it is?

That was some way into our trip today. Just after setting off we passed the castle mound and fenced-off rubble at Fotheringhay.

I told you it wasn't much.

More spectacular, some would say, was this house at Sibson.

We stopped for lunch on the EA moorings at Wansford, right by the Nene Valley Railway. Unfortunately no trains were running today, although one loco was clearly fired up.

Here is Jubilee on the mooring.

As we approached Orton we went past an interesting-looking turning off the main river. The OS map indicated it connected to a lake. Looking behind I could see a sign detailing all sorts of attractions, including free 24 hour mooring. We reversed back and turned up the arm to take a look.

Very soon we found ourselves indeed on a lake!

It's amazing! We crossed the lake and spotted two pontoons, so we tied up and revelled in the BIGNESS of it all.

This is Overton Lake at Ferry Meadows Country Park. The woman on the boat on the neighbouring pontoon was horrified that we'd come anticlockwise round the island as it's meant to be very shallow. I didn't notice. She has towed grounded boats off the shallows in the past.

There are lots of things for families to do here: Ally might visit tomorrow with Josiah. After tea we cycled round the lake but at different times: Jan went while I was changing the oil.

Apparently there is a bit of rain (what's that?) forecast for tomorrow. We are told that the Nene tends to rise quickly after rain, so we hope there's not too much before we get through Stanground Sluice in a couple of days' time.