Virtually the whole length of the Macclesfield is one long piece of eye candy, and we cruised along enjoying ourselves and taking it all in.
The first of many boats that we passed today
Farewell to the Pennines and the Peak District
At times the canal resembled a natural waterway
Bridge 47, our first of two swing bridges for the day. Taking the CRT Waterways key with me I crossed the bridge stuck the key in the lock on the handle thing in the bottom right corner, turned the key which unlocked something that allowed me to yank up on the handle which released the locking mechanism on the bridge which I could then swing open allowing A.B. to pass through.
We just mooched along, not by choice - a noisy vibration has started occuring between 1250 -1600rpms, so Lawrence kept the throttle at 1200rpms.
Remember this moored up boat
Bridge 49, Royal Oak Swingbridge, now electrified, so all that was required was the CRT Waterways key and an index finger
With the stopped traffic building up, as soon as L was through, I pushed and held the close button and as the bridge was starting to close the moored up boat we had passed a little while before came through with no warning (and I couldn't see up the canal). Thankfully the designers of the control box factored in times like this. Because as soon as I took my finger of the closed button the bridge stopped moving and I could open it again.
The boat must have gone like the clappers to catch up to us, all to get a free ride through the bridge,
But, I would like to know, what would have happened if I had been a pervy type and had been busy checking out the attractive young builder boy in the grey ute stopped opposite me whilst keeping my finger on the closed button?
Very old proper working boat
After about 3 3/4 miles of lock free cruising we got to the top of the Macclesfield flight of 12 locks at 11.25am. We had to wait for about 5 mins for a boat to finish coming up in the locks. Good oh they would be in our favour :) :)
AND there was a volunteer lockie on hand who helped us down the first four locks - Bliss
This hill, known as The Cloud dominates our journey down the flight, the stone of which was all quarried from The Cloud.
We met three boats coming up the locks, which mean't that even the leaky locks were in our favour and three times we had gates left open for us so L could depart one lock and motor straight across the pound into the next lock and on those occasion I didn't have to close the bottom gates. Even more bliss.
Lawrence cruising into Lock 7
The Cloud again.
We were flying down the locks. Adding to the joy, all the winding mechansims were easy to use - no heaving or pushing required.
L insisted on taking a pic of me, just to prove that I'm actually on this trip and not simply narrating from afar!
Ok, so L has brought A.B. into a full lock and the top gates are closed behind him. I then raise the bottom gate paddles, first one, then crossing over on the little bridge, the other, all the while keeping an eye on what is happening to the boat as it sinks in the lock and not on the view or attractive builder boys!
Once all the water has drained from the lock I push open the gate
and wind down the paddle
Then cross the bridge and do the same with the other gate
When A.B. has exited the lock, I close the gates behind him
And hare down to the next lock to open the gates for him.
That was the last lock in the flight. No more for today.
At 1.20pm we moored up on the embankment just after the last lock and L whipped up another fry up for lunch while I sat on the stern and had a drink and a fag and took in the view.
After lunch we tried to solve the vibration mystery, but to no avail and at 2.25pm we set off again.
The last time we came this way, the cow was sitting there, but behind her was a dairy farm! No longer it seems
However there are still plenty of dairy cattle around
The lower we go, the more lush everything looks. The lock flight lowered us 108 feet; we are now travelling along a pound 408 feet above sea level.
Another distant vista
We stopped at the visitor moorings in High Town at 4.00pm to stock up on some basics and toying with the idea of staying the night due to the conveniently placed pub which we were literally moored beneath. But having done the shopping we decided to push on and get back out into the countryside for the night. At 4.40pm we were on our way again.
Now we all know a certain person said no more fucking ducks. Well I have restrained myself, even though we have been passing heaps of fluffy, cute broods of little ducklings for the past two days.
But he has said nothing about geese, so here are some for you, but are real or are they plastic?
Shortly after crossing this aqueduct
we were back in, what passes for the sticks over here and we cruised until 5.50pm when we moored
up in this lovely spot
looking up to Mow Cop and Squire Wilbraham's 18thC folly - Angel of the North
The sun doesn't set until 9.30pm so we had plenty of time to enjoy the changing of the light on Mow (pronounced like cow) Cop.
14 miles, 12 locks, 2 lift bridges, 8 hours
No comments:
Post a Comment