Climbing Up and Dropping Down
Saturday, twenty-seventh April, was a disappointing contrast in the weather, with a little drizzle starting as we filled up with water before tackling the nine locks that would take us up to the summit. The rain intensified through the ascent, accompanied by a very cold wind. It eased off and eventually stopped as we left the top lock at Marston Doles but after four hours on the move we were chilled through and keen to get moored up and go below where the stove was keeping it warm and cosy. We found a suitable spot at Priors Hardwick Bridge and settled in to watch the final match for the Red Roses in the Women's Six Nations championship, a cracking game against France which secured England's third successive Grand Slam title.
The rain returned even more heavily later that night and continued uninterrupted into a grey, wet, dismal Sunday morning. During the evening, just above the hammering of the raindrops, we could periodically hear the sounds of loud music and people shouting in the distance. The rain finally stopped by about eleven-thirty and I took Archie for a walk back down to the locks and across to Priors Hardwick. On the way we passed the sign for the "Silver Spur After Party" and the site of the "Silver Spur", an annual traditional hunt race in the area that had taken place on the Saturday.
This way for a soggy after party
This explained the noise from the night before, the only mystery remaining being how the late night revellers had maintained their enthusiasm in what must have been miserable conditions during the overnight deluge. Certainly, everywhere we walked the ground was completely sodden, with small streams running across the fields, where they probably weren't even visible the week before and all the tracks around the Silver Spur site were just a sea of mud. For now, the afternoon stayed dry, if grey and cloudy, so we stopped at The Butcher's Arms in Priors Hardwick for a pint on the way back to the boat.
Priors Hardwick Church
Monday morning was brighter, although still with a very chill breeze. We set off across the summit and at Wormleighton we again spotted this sculpture.
Random Canalside Art
We're still not sure what it is (Green Man? Lion King? Chris Barton?) or why it is there but you can't miss it.
We made our way down to Fenny Compton, stopping at one end for the water point and again at the far end for the Elsan and rubbish facilities at Fenny Compton Marina. Why there is no drinking water tap on the marina wharf, so that you can do everything in one go, is a puzzle.
Fenny Compton tunnel, with the roof removed now but still narrow, sometimes provides its own entertainment if there is a boat coming the other way. Today, however, we were alone and met no opposition. By two o'clock we had had enough and were glad to moor up just before Claydon Top Lock, which would be the start of our descent towards Banbury.
Tuesday morning, the last day of April, was just how most spring days should be. It started several degrees warmer than of late and stayed bright, sunny and warm all day, although with quite a strong breeze at times.
Coming Into Claydon Top
We dropped down the five Claydon Locks and three more beyond to approach Cropredy where, just beyond the marina there, we found some nice new Armco piling to attach to and moor up in the sun. The towpath had just been reinforced so it was lovely and clean to walk on, for once. We had only seen Mike & Lesley Fielding on Friday but it would be rude to come through Cropredy without being in touch. Having spent the afternoon washing and polishing that side of the boat, we walked down to their lovely tailor-made house and joined them for an aperitif before we all repaired to the Brasenose Arms for dinner. On the way the recently refurbished village sign looked very fine in the sunshine.
Cropredy's recently refreshed village sign
May did not start by fulfilling yesterday's promise of fine spring weather. Heavy rain overnight had made a mockery of our cleaning and polishing of the day before and the morning was damp and murky, although still mild compared to most of April. We started out to take on all the services below Cropredy Bridge.
As we approached there was a boat called "Ellen" on the left with someone on board and we couldn't make out if he was about to pull out. In the end, we could see the mooring lines were still tied on, so we carried on through. We were already gliding past when they let us know they were actually queuing for the service wharf. There was nowhere for us to pull in there so we could only carry on under the bridge and pull over on the left, opposite the wharf, where "Andante" was already taking on water. It was certainly busy here this morning. As we waited there "Twyford" turned up, wanting to wind here as well as to get water.
"Andante" moved on, "Ellen" moved up, we eventually reversed up onto the dock as they finished up and "Twyford" was turned round, with a fair amount of shouting and bow hauling, while we had our turn. Meanwhile, "Two Lazy B's" came through, took one look at the chaos and decided they wouldn't bother after all. It was certainly time-consuming but it has to be said that it was all accomplished quite calmly and with good humour on all sides.
We had another three locks to do and the towpaths along this section were filthy. Levels must have been high, as the crossing boards on the top gates of all the locks were four inches below the water level and cautiously paddling from side to side took more time. Nonetheless, we moored up at Spicer's Park in Banbury, just beside the footbridge there, before two o'clock, ready for life in the big city.