They forecast forty-odd mile an hour winds today, to go with the fifty-to-seventy odd mile an hour winds we’ve been having for the rest of the week. They (said ‘they’ being the Met Office, of course) also forecast intermittent showers.
What they didn’t forecast was the eight inches of mud everywhere (mostly on my living room carpet now) and the highly probable chance of skidding off the towpath through it, into the cut. Fortunately I managed to avoid taking a dip, but I did slip a few times and ended up dancing uncontrollably like Pinocchio, into the hedge.
They (again said ‘they’ being the Met Office) also forgot to mention the freezing cold hailstorm that suddenly sprang up out of nowhere and decided to rip the skin off our hands and faces when we stopped to moor up. But I’m getting ahead of myself.
After emptying the bilges (partially blocked, as always, by the wrong sort of stern grease – the usual bucket was required) we (said ‘we’ being me, Janet, Jim and Michelle) took the Mouse Boat from where we were berthed just south of Galgate, north to somewhere full of pylons (I’m not a fan of pylons – they make my hair stand on end like Stan Laurel’s) just shy of Brantbeck Bridge, the gateway to Deep Cuttings.
As it turned out, it was an extremely pleasant and, surprisingly for once, incident-free trip…apart from the hail, the mud and the pylons. The sun even came out at one point. (That didn’t last long.)
So, now, I’ve checked the oil, topped up the water in the radiator, had a pork pie, and I’m all set for a mighty voyage with Carol in a week and a half’s time all the way to Tewitfield and back, calling at Lancaster, Carnforth, Hest Bank and Bolton-le-Sands en route (although not necessarily in that order).