intrepid pony: Burton of beer fame

morning reflections near Arawas

Under bridge viewing

After a warm and peaceful night we woke to clear skies. Boats started locking early to make the most of the good weather but Lottie wanted to explore the fishing lake we were moored by before we followed them. The canal wound through butterfly embellished foliage. One rested for a while on our roof but fluttered off the instant the Captain reached for his camera.

green village towpath

One of the slab sided concrete bridges was painted brightly with detailed scenes so he took pictures of that instead.

It was sunny all morning so Lottie spent the cruise sunbathing, sprawled across the cruiser deck. At locks she explored happily apart from one next to the bustling main road which had disturbed our peace for the previous mile. She barked to be let off the lead but we couldn’t risk her straying into the traffic.

Canal side thatch cottage

tight fit

As our boat entered one lock a boat appeared below. I welcomed the sight as usually a boat approaching ties up at the lock landing and a crew member helps open the gates. Not this time. The up-coming boat floated waiting to drive straight into the lock his lock worker settled comfortably in a cosy chair. I didn’t rush. Locks are dangerous places especially with a large hound attached to a lead. I opened the paddles on one gate then led Lottie round over the back gate to open the other. My progress was slowed by her finding a great scent to follow – away from the paddle I needed to work. Eventually I wound the paddle up while my audience watched critically from their boat.

Pipe bridge near Burton upon Trent

At last the water had all drained out so I opened the gate and let the paddle down. As the lock was deep my husband was marooned on the boat unable to help, so I trekked round the back of the lock again with my hound more interested in the cows on the other side of the hedge. I opened the second gate, wound the paddle down and rejoined our boat.

As the Captain eased the boat out of the lock the waiting boat turned straight towards us. It’s impossible to turn a boat when the rear end is still in a lock, so we waited bow to bow until they moved aside to let us pass.

tranquil water

“Sorry,” the Skipper of the upcoming boat called.

“A little help at the lock would have been nice,” the Captain retorted. Of course we would have been out of their way quicker if their lock slave had opened one gate.

Some of the bridges were only a hand span wider than the boat, and had to be timed carefully to avoid oncoming traffic.

Burton seems proud of its beer

Although the sun shone all morning it didn’t get too hot for locking until we worked through the last one. We stopped by a large lake in the shade and let the heat of the day pass by.

narrow entry to a boat yard

We moved off at 1.45 and meandered through Burton where we saw many dogs of all shapes and sizes. There were long legged hounds both hairy and silky, yapping terriers and a old English bulldog. We found Willington full by the pub but just outside the village there was plenty of good mooring. We found a place where Lottie could wander into the woods from the towpath so our hound ambled around contentedly while the Captain moored and I prepared dinner.