Today was Tyrley Locks, heat and trouser failure.

We got an early start because it felt like it was going to be hot later. I would have preferred doing the Tyrley Flight before the hottest part of the day. Yeah, well that didn’t work out quite the way I planned. Teach me to nod off at lunch time.

It was another classic Shroppie stretch to the locks. Cuttings and embankments. Soon after Norbury Junction we entered Grub Street Cutting. This is the site of one of the Shroppie’s iconic oddities. Everyone takes photos of it. We have one somewhere, no doubt a physical print because it was that long ago that we came this way.

The cutting is one of the deeper ones. So, the aptly named, High Bridge is, well, high. So, to some canal engineer, the obvious solution to getting a telegraph line through the bridge, was an extra platform and a short telegraph pole. This looks like canal-era engineering feature creep to me. I think the answer to the question “Why?” was “Because we can!”.

Following the Grub Street Cutting, is the Shebdon Embankment. This is called “the great Shebdon Embankment” in the guide book. Perhaps it’s more impressive from below, but from on top, it was very similar to every other Shroppie Embankment. It does have an old chocolate factory at the other end. It used to manufacture chocolate crumb which was then transported to  factories in Birmingham, with boats being loaded at a purpose built wharf. These days, it makes dried milk powder. And no longer uses the canal to transport it.

Somewhere along this stretch, I came across this pair of boats moored up. I managed to avoid shouting “Beetlejuice, Beetlejuice, Beetlejuice”. But it was touch and go. Weird, the links your mind can make at times.

 

 

Woodseaves Cutting follows Shebdon. This is one of the most dramatic features. It is very narrow, very deep and was cut through solid rock by hand.

Shortly after Woodseaves, you get to Tyrley. This was where the plan started to fall apart. I stopped for an early lunch.  I meant to just take 30 minutes then get through the locks before it got too warm. Then I woke up at 2pm. Now it was really hot.

Now the plan had fallen apart, my trousers followed soon after. I started down the locks, following another single hander. He was based on the Shroppie so had more local knowledge then me which helped later on. But he was moving along a lot slower than me. This was probably not a bad thing as now it was really hot.

The first three locks in the flight of five are quite exposed. The bottom two have an almost complete canopy of trees. I really wanted to get down there. We also had a bit of an audience for some of these locks. These spectators are  commonly known as gongoozlers. If there are a lot of them, they can cause problems. You have to keep a watchful eye out for small children and “helpful” adults trying cross gates or standing on the wrong side of gate beams. These guys were no problem, just content to watch from a distance.

The bottom two locks are counted by some as the prettiest location on the network (sorry Heather!). They are cut into the red sandstone rock and covered by a canopy of trees. Dappled light on the water, green leaves and red stone. Looks gorgeous but is incredibly hard to capture in a photo.

There is a wrinkle with the pound between the bottom two locks. Despite it being a beautiful location, you cannot linger in a boat. My single-hander companion reminded me that, due to large rock ledge you cannot moor. You have to get the bottom lock ready ahead of leaving lock 4, so you can go straight from one to the other. My companion, very thoughtfully, lingered below the bottom lock to set it for me. It was as I was thanking him that I realised that my “nether regions” were feeling unusually cool for such a warm day. On checking, I discovered I had suffered an almost complete trouser failure. The seam had come undone apart from an inch or so at each end. I was effectively wearing an odd shaped skirt. I have no idea how long it had been like that. Nobody said anything. Typical British reserve!

Soon after the Tyrley Flight, you pass through Market Drayton. The only things that stood out to me were some odd “sculptures” and the the random canal-side accordion player. I didn’t feel drawn to linger, so pushed on.

But not for long. I’m now moored up just before the next flight at Adderley, the trouser failure and the heat had taken their toll.  And then discovered I had chosen one of the places where there is no mobile phone signal to speak of.

So, whilst I am typing this now. You won’t see it until tomorrow. As consolation, here is another gratuitous picture of Sam, the Roof-Dog, feeling relaxed.

Tomorrow promises to be even harder, 5 locks at Adderley and then the 15 locks at Audlem immediately after. The weatherman says there might be thunderstorms too.