Harecastle And Beyond
Harecastle Tunnel, at a bit over a mile and a half, is one of the longest. There are actually two tunnels in parallel that enabled two way traffic but the earliest one collapsed before the First World War. That means this is now a single track passage, so access is managed by CRT personnel and the tunnel portals are blocked at other times. It also marks the boundary between CRT's West Midlands Region and the North West, which seemed to be significant to the crew at the southern portal. Its other special features are that it has very low points along its length and is long enough to need additional ventilation to disperse the diesel fumes and maintain sufficient fresh air. We knew we would fit, as we have been through before and we arrived in good time before the last passage to get checked over by CRT. As we headed into the southern portal, the doors slammed behind us, the huge fans started roaring and we settled down for a half an hour in the dark. The low points are marked with yellow paint picked out by the tunnel light but they come at random points and we were warned that last week they had one boater who cracked his head on one and needed minor treatment when he emerged. In the past, people have been knocked off their boats and come to serious harm.
We emerged into the strangely orange waters north of the tunnel, stained by iron oxide leaching into the canal from the rock. We passed the junction with the Macclesfield Canal on our left and dropped down through the first half dozen locks before mooring up just before Church Lawton. This side of the tunnel the locks, while only wide enough for one narrow boat, are paired to speed up passage through them for heavy traffic. These days one or other of the pair are often either permanently decommissioned or else have broken paddles or other faults that render them inoperable. Even when both are operational we found it just as quick to help someone coming the other way as to work opposing locks.
I took Archie out for a walk past the church and Lawton Hall, round to the Macclesfield Canal and down to the aqueduct that carries it over the Trent & Mersey.
The Church Lawton
We could drop down here to the canal below and follow the towpath back to the boat. It was a good walk on a fine afternoon and for once, the paths were all clear to see and well marked.
At this point we hit one of the issues with this travelling lifestyle. Biting down on something over lunch a bit too enthusiastically had set off a pain in one of my teeth that seemed determined to persist. Casting around on the internet identified a dentist just fifteen minutes walk from our mooring. We have all heard of the crisis in finding dental care under the NHS these days. However, I hoped that if I rang them early, had a well prepared sob-story, was prepared to wait and was happy to pay a fee, they might at least have a look at the tooth and tell me what needed to be done. I was far too optimistic. I was little more than ten seconds into explaining why I was calling before being given a hard 'no'. If you are not registered at that practice you won't be seen. Instead I was given an emergency number to call. However, it was made clear that unless I satisfied a long list of conditions, such as uncontrollable bleeding or rapidly increasing swelling, it would not be considered an emergency and if it was, I could be sent anywhere in a wide area to be seen. I tried the number anyway and was pleased to find myself at number two in the queue. Half an hour later I got the message loud and clear, as I was still number two in the queue. The treatment worked as, by now, the pain had subsided considerably. As long as I ate on the other side of my mouth it was not starting up again. Instead, I made an appointment with my own dentist for the nineteenth July and resolved to concentrate harder on which side I was chewing with for the next couple of months.
Having wasted quite a lot of time we set off at about ten thirty for a planned trip through ten more locks to Hassall Green. We still think of this as the site of the Romping Donkey, although the pub has been closed for years and is now a private house. As usual, I took Archie out for a walk after we moored up. You never really know what is around when you stop at a new location. You pick out a route from a map and hope for the best. Five minutes after we set off we turned onto a long straight path and found ourselves on the Old Salt Line. A beautiful smooth, level path along the disused route of the railway that once carried the salt down from Middlewich to Harestone. As well as having been cleared and smoothed to provide an off-road cycle route, horse ride and walking trail, there are side trails and leisure areas along the route and many information boards about the different trees, flora and fauna highlighted beside the track. It is a great resource for local people and yet you would not have known it was there. We had to turn off and start circling back to pick up the towpath and follow the canal back to the boat. Once again, the paths we had chosen were clear, unobstructed and well-marked so it was a nice easy walk..
Wheelock To Middlewich
On Friday twenty-sixth May, with yet another Bank Holiday bearing down on us, we set off, through another ten locks, for Wheelock where we tied up on the forty-eight hour mooring, just before the service point, in time for lunch. Exploring the area in the afternoon we again found the paths we chose were easy to follow and intact. It seems that North Staffordshire is generally better at protecting and preserving their footpaths than the areas below Stoke On Trent. One feature we found was the clear green line along the route of the right of way when they crossed open field or pasture.
Green Lines Just On The Right Of Way
We have seen this in a few places but have no idea how they are created. We have thought of things like buried water pipes along the line of the path. Then, of course, there is always pure coincidence. Nothing seems quite convincing, so it would be interesting if anyone does know. The only problem we found was a field where the grass had been cut into rows that were waist high on me and buried poor Archie so it was hard work crossing them on the footpath. However, we could see they had only been cut that day and the farmer was still working cutting more hay in the next field so we couldn't complain. Timing is everything!
Wheelock itself was rather disappointing. On one sign it describes itself as a an attractive, traditional, canal side village but it didn't really feel like that. The buildings crowded close onto a very busy road and were all quite dilapidated, mainly commercial enterprises, many of them looking closed down. Perhaps we just didn't find the right part but neither did we feel tempted to seek that out. Instead we settled for a drink in the garden at The Cheshire Cheese. A nice, busy pub, quite friendly and dominated by a tiny Cavapoo called Poppy, who happened to be the same colour as Archie and just wandered around, in and out of the bar and garden, quite unheeded and at home. She wasn't the pub dog it turned out and I spoke to her owner, who was sitting at the bar. His dour northern demeanour was fatally undermined by clutching a bright pink lead, with a collection of fluorescent pink accessories at his feet. He said Poppy had been coming in here since she was eight weeks old and she was fully grown now. I thought her size might be because she came from a toy poodle sire but he told me it wasn't specific breeding, she had full siblings that have grown to twice her size.
We moved onto the service point the next morning and had to wait for a few minutes to get water. "Cease Firing" finished filling up and moved off. I asked about the name, wondering if the owner was a retired management consultant. It turned out it had been named by the original owner who was a former gunner.
We headed down to Middlewich, one of those well-known canal towns that acts as a kind of focal point. The Middlewich branch of the Shropshire Union goes off from here, the well-known and well-stocked King's Lock Chandlery sits close by the junction and next to the King's Lock Inn, which overlooks, you guessed it, King's Lock. It was a centre for the salt trade and sitting high above the head of the River Weaver valley, thrived with the arrival of the canal and the Anderton Boat Lift, taking exports via Northwich to Liverpool. It is also the location for a big and popular Folk and Boat Festival every year.
I could recall coming through today's section of the Trent & Mersey years ago on a hire boat and being struck by the bleakness around the canal. It was a post-industrial landscape of rubble from flattened mills and warehouses on all sides before being joined by a heavily used road right next to it going into the town. Most of this has been cleared away and some sites have been used for housing. For once, the development seems to have made an improvement on what was there before and generally the environment was more pleasant now, although the big roads are still in full use.
Those paying attention will have spotted that we have already done twenty-six of the thirty-one locks that constitute Heartbreak Hill so we had five more to get through today to complete the 'ordeal'. The last one is King's Lock but there is a sting in the tail, that lock takes you down to the junction but reaching the next mooring requires you to pass through Middlewich Three Locks. Accordingly, we stopped before King's Lock and tied up to have lunch and consider our options. We went down and had a look at the mooring on offer further down. In the end, looking at and listening to the very busy road five yards away from our first stop we decided to go back and bring the boat through to moorings beside a small recreation ground. It was much quieter here and we managed to avoid being either under trees or overlooked.
Of course, by the time we had got back, come through the four locks and moored up again it was nearly five o'clock and a long, hot day, for us. Next door to the recreation ground and above the canal is the Newton Brewery Inn so we walked up for some refreshment. There doesn't seem to be any associated brewery, just a nice, basic pub. It was obviously very popular with the locals and was incredibly cheap, facts which may have been linked. I noticed we had also changed county and here, in Cheshire, I would now need to get used to being called 'chuck'.
A Weekend In Middlewich
We had been through Middlewich a few times on different journeys but never actually stopped there. Over the years we had heard reports from various sources that suggested it was a very nice town. This time, we thought we should stay for a few days and have a look around. Middlewich Town Council boasts that it has previously been ranked by the BBC as the fourth most desirable place to live. If your proudest boast is to have been ranked fourth on any league table it perhaps serves as a warning.
On the whole, we weren't that impressed. It was a struggle but in the end, I managed to find some town trails on the internet, that were intended for use by school parties. They weren't easy to use but we opted for the Great War trail, which looked as if it would cover most of the town one way or another. There is a very busy road running right down and through the town. Although there are plenty of houses and commercial premises around it, the town centre consists of Wheelock Street, a pedestrianised high street that runs from the church and a Tesco Express, through to the cemetery, with its impressive chapel and the large Lidl and Morrison stores beside that.
An Impressive Chapel In The Cemetery
There was very little activity at all, no nice coffee shops or restaurants, none of the chain shops you usually expect to find and no real sign of any local, independent retailers filling the gap. The closest we saw was a school outfitters who were having a big sale for the summer. There were a lot of takeaway and fast food shops, all closed up and shuttered at midday, with the usual complement of nail bars and hairdressers. Barber shops did seem to be very popular and one was even open on this Sunday. The most interesting looking buildings in Wheelock Street were the White Bear
The White Bear
and the old Alhambra cinema, which now hosts the Il Padrino restaurant.
The Old Alhambra
Overall, the place was considerably less vibrant than Rugeley, even on a similar Bank Holiday weekend.
The trail, itself, was interesting enough. One of the stops took us into a modern industrial estate, which looked unpromising but then led us to a small memorial garden in the middle of it all.
Brunner Mond WW1 Memorial Garden
It is next to the site of the Brunner Mond Memorial Hospital and it contains a small cenotaph erected following the Great War by the company Brunner Mond, in memory of the workers who gave their lives. Brunner Mond became part of ICI and now, after a brief resurgence as an independent company in the nineteen-eighties, is part of Tata Chemicals. It is good to see that, despite that, the memorial is well maintained and clearly not forgotten.
After lunch I took Archie out and explored the area East and South by following one of Middlewich's published walk trails. It took us out across the Three Locks, back to the industrial estate and out via the sewage farm to the Middlewich custody suite, a route that was every bit as attractive as it sounds. Eventually, having followed the estate road for a while, we did escape into the surrounding countryside along the Dane Valley Way to Kinderton Lodge and Briar Pool farm but the paths were overgrown and damp in many places and very poorly signposted. We came back into the works areas again, where the outer zones seem abandoned now but are still heavily fenced and a track brings you through the factories to the estate once more. It didn't add much to my impression of Middlewich.
Bank Holiday Monday was a morning working on boat cleaning and touching up. After lunch I took Archie out on another walk, this time to the west. We followed the towpath and then turned off on a track alongside the River Dane and then followed a couple of quiet lanes down to the Middlewich Branch and followed that towpath back to the junction and now familiar territory. Overall, a much more pleasant walk and an obvious clear route so a little better. By the time we were back at the Three Locks Sue was finishing up the week's shopping in Morrison's so we could go and meet her to carry it all home.