Donkey Rose Bush to Greenberfield Bottom Lock

Just a short distance on is the Anchor Inn, visitor moorings outside which NB Elvira was taking advantage of. Back in 2014 we walked back from Foulridge for a drink in this pub and to have a look around the cellar. The pub existed before the canal and flooded once the cut was filled with water. Rooms were built on first floor level, which is now the ground floor of the pub. The cellar still has the original front door which opens out onto what was the packhorse road, now filled with thin spindly stalactites.

After Salterforth Bridge there is a 90 degree turn in the cut, rollers protect the arch of the bridge guiding the towrope around the corner, there are more of these on the curly wurlys.

At Lower Park Marina the stern of NB Billy sat out from her surrounding neighbours, Clare and Pete have pulled in to catch up on washing and have an explore for a couple of days.

Through the bridge we pulled in ourselves. It’s been about three weeks since we had a top up from NB Alton at Bugsworth and we’ve covered some miles since then. The diesel pump was a little short of 100 litres, but at 70p it was worth the top up and it’s not often you get to fill your diesel tank with a stag watching you.

Onwards through Barnoldswick, more commonly known as Barlick. The terraced houses here have slanting roofs, not stepped and some of the terraces climb steep hills. It’s hard to know whether to line up the walls or the roof for a photo.

Clare and Pete were at the next bridge so we stopped for a chat. The marina moorings were a real bargain at £5 a night and a local cafe did a good breakfast. Suspect we’ll see them again tomorrow, another hopfrog or leapscotch!

A couple of houses were for sale, one terraced with only a short stretch of canal and a more modern open plan house hiding behind the towpath wall.

A few more bends till we arrived at Greenberfield Locks, these would take us down from the summit pound and commence our descent to Leeds. Short boat Kennet sat at the end of the moorings looking all wide and purposeful. Then two Silsden wide beams, one by the water point, the other by the lock landing. We decided that they must have stopped for lunch, there are signs saying you can stay for an hour, even if you are in the way a bit.

I managed to hop off and went to set the lock. The towpath side box ground paddle didn’t want to move, so I walked round to the off side. This one let me turn the handle, but one of them got their own back and covered the front of my t-shirt with black grease. I seem to now remember this happening before here! Hopefully some vanish will make it, well, vanish.

A chap from one of the hire boats came to lend a hand. They had meant to be on holiday in Lanzarote, but for obvious reasons hadn’t gone, instead a boating holiday had been suggested. They were enjoying themselves and would definitely do it again.

I could just see the top gates of the middle lock, a chap sat on the beam, one minute a paddle looked like it was up, the next it was down. Then I could see a boat coming from the lock, a beep before it came through the bridge, quite understandable when I noticed that it was a breasted up pair. Mick came out of the lock and we swapped over, the next lock sat waiting for us.

The chap sat on the beam was a Lockie. Maybe he looked after the central lock as it would be the first you encounter with the clough ground paddles if coming from the west. He could also keep an eye on the levels in both pounds, the one below looking a touch low until we emptied our water into it. Another boat rose in the lock below and fortunately the crew opened up the gates again, which meant I didn’t have to lift any paddles as the bottom gates leak somewhat.

As we came out of the bottom lock another boat was just arriving to head up, so good timing all round. They of course were likely to meet the two widebeams at the next two locks so good use of water.

Mick pulled us in behind a widebeam on the moorings below. Oleanna not quite the right length for the rings, so spikes were needed at the stern. Later in the afternoon we were joined by another boat filling up the last space.

As we tied up and I opened the back hatch Tilly made a bid for freedom. This didn’t go down well with me! Shore leave is only granted after the rules have been read and certainly does not start as the back doors are open. I grabbed hold of a leg and Tilly was forced back inside to wait. And wait she did.

Once the rules had been recited the doors were opened and shore leave granted. Tilly dashed across the towpath, her route already planned to the tree by the wall where a gap allowed her access straight into the field.

Our mooring is surrounded by drumlins, hills made by glaciers streamlined in the direction of travel. Today the grass had all been cut and the farmers were busy turning and collecting it.

She came for a walk with me. We waited for a She and a Tom to walk past first. I’d forgiven her for my leg pulling and was quite glad of the company. I trotted along in front around to the next bend, She’s not too keen on me staying close to her feet so I kept a distance.

Past the bend was a boat, two chaps with bits of string in the water. She kept on walking towards them. Hang on I thought, that’s not on, I don’t like the look of them. I shouted to stop her from going any further, but she carried on. Should I dash past the boat or turn back? But She couldn’t be left on her own, I needed to protect her! What a dilemma?

There was another option, continue in the same direction, but on the other side of the wall! Now there’s clever. I made sure I shouted so She knew where I was, but She just didn’t get the message. She wanted me to go all the way to the bridge, how stupid was that! I shouted and shouted for her to jump over the wall, but she just kept calling me! Stupid!!

From the bridge I could see further, I took some photos and then got a touch embarrassed at the way my cat was howling at me, so returned along the towpath, Tilly leading the way on the other side of the wall!

I’d been intending to wash the starboard side today, but as it felt like Autumn half term I didn’t fancy it. Instead I looked to indoor jobs. Our floor has developed a bit of a creak as you walk past the dinette and it’s been bugging me. Under the radiator there is a section of floor that you can lift out and I thought the noise was likely to be coming from the main floor rubbing against it.

I lifted the panel out and discovered a line of Tilly fur that has found it’s way under the floor. The join was given a good clean, ballast bricks levelled out and then any fur I could suck up with the vacuum was removed. Tilly gave it an inspection before the panel went back in.

Job done. Well for a short while until the panel managed to move itself back to where it could rub itself against the main floor. A gentle bit of persuasion with a flat headed screw driver did the job this time.

The cupboard under the sink also got a make over. The contents had started to take over and were threatening to fall onto the floor and stop the door from closing. Once it was cleaned out and reorganised everything fitted again with space to spare.

Sadly this evening the creak in the floor has returned, I think a nudge with slightly more force may be required to make it silent again.

3 locks, 2.72 miles, 97.1 litres, 2 ancient woofers, 2 fat hire boats, 1 Lockie, 1 pretty mooring, 1 escapee, 1 walk, 1 adamant cat, 0.5 cat under the floor, 1 recurring creak, 1 tidy cupboard, Act 1 Amadeus.