Not a long distance travelled but today’s jaunt involved 7 more locks, turning onto our new home canal, the Poole Aqueduct and the most painful patch of nettles.

The first three locks of the day are a marked contrast to the last two yesterday. The 2 locks at Church Lawton are no longer true pairs, as the offside locks are both dilapidated and overgrown. These locks are positively tidy and neat in comparison. They run uphill to the, often busy, Red Bull Wharf.

The two pounds between these three locks, are often very shallow. Today was no exception. A deep drafted traditional tug, heading downhill to Middlewich for a boat gathering, ran aground trying to leave one of the locks. I wouldn’t moor there now, but this is another one of those random personal landmarks. When we were more innocent and less experienced, we moored in this pound and the kids managed to catch fish, despite the efforts of their father. We’ve got a picture somewhere t prove it.

Red Bull Wharf was busy, but just with boats going uphill. It’s a challenge because the service moorings mean only two boats can wait below the single lock. Today, by the time I went into the lock, there were 5 boats jockeying for position.

I was now following another single-hander. I helped him through. And he returned the favour at the pair of Limekiln Locks. He used the, already empty, offside lock. Whilst his boat was going up, he prepared the nearside lock. That was lucky for me, for two reasons. First, the offside lock is pretty challenging to get into. The space for manoeuvring is limited by the Poole Aqueduct, which is how the Macclesfield Canal crosses the T&M, but more that in a moment. I have messed this up many times. Second, the exit from the offside lock was partially blocked by a deceptive fallen tree. It looked pretty insubstantial, something you could just brush past. Unfortunately for my fellow single-hander, it proved to be reluctant to let him past, and when he finally managed it, it swiped most of the stuff off his roof.

So, whilst Heron was ascending, I decided to try to clear it away. But I was also seduced by its apparent flimsiness. Rather than getting the saw out and doing it properly, I started snapping off some of the branches. It was all going rather well, until I tried to snap a rather more unwilling branch. I had to strain harder, and then it gave way suddenly. My short flight backwards ended in a huge patch of nettles. A very soft, but very painful landing. I’m usually reasonably immune to the odd nettle sting, they usually fade wishing 30 minutes. But when your entire arm has been nettled, it turns out the pain can last much longer. And it can be much greater. That’ll teach me to be public spirited.

The Poole Aqueduct doesn’t look that impressive. Especially when compared to other junction/aqueduct combinations, where one canal leaves another and then crosses it shortly after. For example, the Hazlehurst Aqueduct, where the Leek Arm crosses over the main line of the Caldon Canal, is far more attractive. But I have always liked it. There is something unusually rewarding about passing over a canal aqueduct you just went under. It is also probable that it has associations with heading off on other canal adventures when we owned shares on boats based at Heritage in Scholar Green.

One of the things you notice about the canal around here. It has very rusty colour due to the iron ore leaching into the water in the Hardcastle Tunnel. A striking contrast with the green vegetation and blue skies.

After a short lunch stop and a quick dash to Tesco to replenish some of the boat stores I had used up in the last 4 weeks, we pressed through the last of the Cheshire Locks (although now in Staffordshire). Another little landmark with its hut between the two locks. For those heading north, perhaps having just braved the dramatic Hardcastle Tunnel, it signifies the start of that long descent down the paired locks. For me, it meant no more locks for this trip, not counting the Hall Green Stop Lock. I swapped locks with the Oatcake Boat. They were heading down to Middlewich for the boat gathering as well. Now I should explain, for the benefit of any unenlightened readers, these are proper oatcakes, the Stoke version of a tortilla wrap, not those small, dry, tasteless biscuits.

Immediately after the locks, it was time turn at Hardings Wood Junction. The turn was made more difficult because contractors had moored a work boat almost opposite the junction. I managed it, but only just. If Heron was a 70 footer, it wouldn’t have been possible.

This length of canal, passing over the Poole Aqueduct, is now considered the beginning of the Macc. Officially it is the Hall Green Branch of the T&M, which terminates at the Hall Green Stop Lock. This is a weird lock, it looks to be the wrong way round. It has a single gate, opening inward at the bottom, with double gates at the top. Usually it is the other way round. These days, the Macc is always higher water level than the T&M. But this wasn’t always the case, so the stop lock used to have two chambers to allow for this.  Subsidence meant it was necessary to permanently lower the level of T&M through the Hardcastle Tunnel, so the second chamber became unnecessary. The lock usually has a just a 6 inch fall. Today, it was over a foot. Looks like this was more due to low levels on the T&M than high water levels on the Macc.

I called in at Heritage Narrowboats, our new home moorings from Friday, to get diesel. Turns out, Tuesday is one of there turn around days, so had to jockey for position with one of their departing hire boats. It was also a chance to chat with the staff and pick out our berth.

The plan was then to chug along for 5 minutes to another favourite mooring spot, just before Ramsdell Hall. But some inconsiderate boater, who obviously didn’t know any better, had already moored there. There is just enough space for 2 boats, but I decided to go a little further and try the new (actually, over 10 years old) Little Moreton Hall visitor moorings. These were created to allow boaters to easily visit the famous half-timbered Tudor mansion. And then they realised that, whilst the footpath to the hall passes over the bridge by the moorings, there was no connection to the towpath. I did hear that to make the connection, the extremely short footpath they had to create, was briefly the UK’s most expensive when measured by the foot.

Well those moorings were full as well. But I knew you could moor just through the bridge, so that’s where we ended up. That’s the benefit of knowing a waterway so well.

Tomorrow, I head up to Congleton to say hello to parents. I will be moored up for a couple of days on that embankment I posted pictures of a couple of weeks ago.