intrepid pony: Climbing The Huddersfield

lift bridge

peaceful moorings near the junction

the industrial end of the canal

We woke to a lovely sunny morning but the Captain was not sure how far to go as his legs and back were aching partly from locking. Our bed is comfortable but our built in sofas are less so. We had a lovely cruise along the lower Peak Forest Canal. I was steering as Lottie jumped off at the Haughton Dale Nature reserve so the Captain had to follow. This turned out to be a blessing as the walk helped ease his stiff back and both crew members enjoyed themselves. One strolled leisurely along while the other sniffed and ran backwards and forwards desperate to make the most of the new surroundings. Far from being affected from binging on tin foil she frolicked with other dogs like a puppy.

Portland Basin - no room for us

At the far end of the canal it became more urban. I was baffled by the lift bridge so the Captain came over and pushed me aside – just as I realised I needed the handcuff key to remove the anti vandal lock. Winding the stiff bridge up did nothing for his aches and pains. We planned to moor at the junction with the Huddersfield passing a pleasant field where several boats had moored.

locking up into Stalybridge

There (of course) was no mooring at the junction so we had to tackle the locks to moor on the Huddersfield. I was determined to work all the locks to give the Captain time to recover from his aches. I approached the first lock with dread but the paddles went up easily and the gate swung open without resorting to heavy grunting. In fact I had the opposite problem – some gates opened by themselves and it was tricky persuading them to stay shut so I could fill the lock.

lunch time mooring

rising into the town square

We stopped at 13.05 a whole hour later than the Captain likes his lunch at the first available mooring. As we tied up the guy from the boat already moored warned us to tie up loosely as the pound rises and falls swiftly. Sure enough while we were eating water poured into the canal through a sluice and the level started rising. I assume the water is back pumped from lower down the canal to manage the water levels.

We carried on at 2.15 hoping to get out into the countryside. The canal passed under tunnel like bridges including one under a large supermarket.

Yes - we are the entertainment

I climbed up from one deep cutting and found myself in the centre of a bustling town square. People sat on handy benches watching our boat’s progress and some people asked questions.

“It’s rare to see a boat moving,” one lady remarked.

As we left the town the Pennine hills rose attractively making us want to go further, in spite of the rich smell wafting from the vast sewage station. The canal narrowed as it passed a electricity substation and the banks became vertical steel walls towering above us. We passed through the legs of a pylon which straddled the canal, probably put there when the canal fell into disuse with the coming of the railways.

hills rising above the industry

approaching the power sub station

At last we approached the mooring spot above lock eight but could not get the rear of the boat over. Another boater pointed to the only space left.

“Plenty of room here,” he called. It was by the water point. The Captain murmured he couldn’t moor there but the local guy said “everyone does.” Not expecting another boat to come along we slid into the gap and moored for the night. The Captain was filling with water when a boat came towards us wanting to fill with water and moor.

They filled up tied to the boat ahead of us then moored in the space in front of the lock. Because their bow was next to the shallow area they managed to get the boat over to the side, essential on such a narrow canal.

Thankfully nobody else turned up as there wasn’t room to squeeze anything bigger than a rowing boat in.