Thwarted by the Thaw...

The day was sunny and warm (nearly 10c). I strapped the kayak to the car and set off. At first glance the canal didn't look too bad. On closer inspection I realised that the ice was still a good few inches thick.

A bit of melt water on top of the frozen surface gave the impression that the thaw was well underway, but on chatting to the narrow boat residents (who were furiously chopping wood for their heating) it transpired that they had been frozen in for weeks and didn't expect to go anywhere soon.

My search for liquid kayaking water was thwarted by flooded lanes. Infuriatingly the inviting blue always seemed to be in the next field.

The horse pasture was a tad damp too, although this horse was having a whale of a time kicking its way through the flooded patches.

The donkeys weren't in their normal air raid shelter hangout, and had been moved up to higher ground.

Eventually the lane disappeared entirely and I was forced to turn back. The flood was still rising and I didn't want to be cut off.

For a while it became confusing as to what was lane, field, or river, and I was glad to see tarmac again.

In my quest for a good kayak launching place I headed to a regular spot.

All the melting snow had made this normally peaceful stretch of river a bit rougher than expected. It was icy cold too.... I chickened out!

Maybe I'll have better luck tomorrow...

The not so perambulations of Micra....

Little Micra wasn't happy. It was during travelling back from Burton, struggling through all the deep flood water that he'd started to feel unwell. At first his gears simply felt a bit 'clunky', but then his clutch started being troublesome too. Before long it was just too painful to change gear at all. Whining along stuck in first gear progress was very slow. Unable to de-clutch at all he had to switch his engine off in order to stop and at junctions when it was time to move he had to start up in gear and hope for the best...
After a long and arduous journey it was good to be home. Very worried as to whether he would ever get better it was time to be put up on the jacks. Micra didn't like the jacks, they dug into his bodywork and his master would often be grumpy and swear a lot.
Firstly the wheels had to come off.
Then the brakes, suspension and driveshafts.....Master was very angry and said some very bad words. He even started muttering about "burning the dam thing", and "wish I still had my Rover". He disappeared, and soon it became dark...
Next morning the master was a bit more cheerful. Off came the starter motor, battery, electrics, computer and air ducts. Eventually when you looked up from underneath, where there was once a lot of stuff, now there was daylight.
The troublesome gearbox lay on the lawn while master scratched his head.
Micra was happy when the master smiled and pointed to the clutch release bearing and explained. "The lubrication has been washed off the bearing guide by the flood water and caused it to jam, and the side tag has snapped off the housing". Micra didn't know what that all meant but at least he knew he was going to be better soon.
As well as a new bearing Micra was treated to a brand new drive plate....
....and a thrust plate. He felt very special to have all these shiny new things.
A day later and everything was back to normal. The box of matches was put away for another time and master was happy once more. If master was happy, then Micra was too...

Not a dove, but a coot with a twig...

The flood waters have begun to recede. This is at Hemlingford Bridge over the River Tame near the village of Kingsbury. The view shown was previously under more than 6 ft of water as far as the houses in the distance. Not far from here is Kingsbury water park, a wildlife sanctuary and leisure destination. Originally a gravel quarry, the workings have been allowed to fill with water and naturalise. Most of the paths were still flooded, and there were huge puddles everywhere. The ground was littered with the pale slimy corpses of thousands of drowned earthworms and you had to pick your way carefully through so as to not slip on them!

The puddles seemed to be rippling and on closer inspection I realised that they were teaming with leeches! There were also fish, mainly Perch. I rescued as many as I could, throwing them into a stream that headed for the Tame, but there were too many to save every one.

What is it with the coconuts???! Whenever I'm kayaking and come across a bank with debris, there is always at least one coconut! It's not as if this is the Caribbean. They obviously come from upstream, but where?!

As I ventured further into the flood zone I began to notice a really bad smell.....Then I realised. There were dead animals everywhere! Mainly mice and rabbits, but birds and squirrels too.

It was mostly young rabbits that had drowned. The crows had had a go at many of them and now the sun was out the stench was awful.

On some of the more isolated trees you could see a tide line, and above that the bark was stripped clean. I can only presume that this is where squirrels have become trapped and have been forced to eat anything that they could find.

Many of the pools are used for sailing, jet skiing and power boating. This is where the sailing boats are stored on the bank mounted on trailers....Empty, not one left. I spoke to a guy from the club house and he told me that the waters had been so high that they had floated off, trailers and all. Some had ended up in other pools, some in the river or left high and dry in fields and several had made it as far as the M42 motorway 2 miles away!

The owner of this powerboat had been lucky. I spotted it far off, half on and half off one of the little islands of one of the many pools. Not sure whether it is attached to the trailer still!

Tired and despondent I plodded back to the car along what little was left of the road. All the death and destruction can get you down...

....but then this little chap cheered me up. He/she wasn't giving up, there was a new nest to be built and a new life to be made. Good for him/ her...it!

Micra car meets Macro hole!......

As you may have heard, England is suffering from extensive flooding at the moment. So you may ask, why did I take a route to the village of Hints by a way that I know full well has a ford?....Cos it's FUN! This is the same tranquil pool at the former mill site as pictured previously in "Just a walk in the woods". A little more turbulent than usual!

For most of the year this ford is dry. It used to be the old course of the stream (Blackbrook), but the main flow of water was diverted under the lane further ahead via a brick lined tunnel. It is only when the tunnel is overwhelmed that this becomes flooded. Once this was just a dirt track, but now it is tarmacked and you can normally predict the depth as the gradient is gradual.

A small Hawthorn tree had blown down in the storms, but there was room to get around it and the waters seemed calm enough. Tentatively I moved forward, window down and peering at the water level at my wheels, all appeared fine. The water was lapping about halfway up the wheels, no problem I thought. WOAhh!!..The front end of the car dropped like a stone...water and debris surged over the bonnet....the horn blared spontaneously. I raced the engine praying it wouldn't stall. Whipped it into reverse, and with a roar, a whine of gears and a gush of muddy water the car thankfully lurched violently backwards and out.

The edge of the road must have washed away. I was so relieved to have got away with it. How the engine had managed to cope and keep running was beyond belief!

I reversed up the lane and pulled in. This is when I saw the additions to my bonnet and feared the worse.....

There was all sorts of twig and leaves hooked up on the bonnet edge and spotlights.

I half expected the bumper or lights to be damaged. Apart from an alarming grating noise, which was soon rectified by scraping handfuls of mud from the brakes, it seem I had got off lightly!

The 4x4 that had been playing in the shallows at the far end of the ford, on seeing the results of proceeding any further, made a hasty retreat!

Little Micra was taken home. He was fully checked out. Thoroughly cleaned with a pressure washer and his delicate parts re-lubed. Micra was very happy that he hadn't drowned, and was ready for more adventures....

Plantsbrooks revenge.....

This is Plantsbrook, a quiet babbling brook. It rises from springs in the acres of Sutton Park. Sparkling waters twist and turn via lakes and trickles giving joy to paddlers and wildlife alike. Once revered for its purity and worth, it has in recent times been abused and neglected. Storm drains wash pollution into its once crystal waters. It has been diverted, culverted and thrust underground like an unneeded nuisance. Its banks have been stripped of vegetation and its flood plains built on.

A dark stormy night, rain so heavy it strips branches off the trees... Swollen and troubled, the angry waters seek their revenge....

First in line, the leisure centre. Retribution for diverting Plantsbrook and spoiling it in a nasty culvert!

The last remaining pool grows rapidly transforming the surrounding woodland into something resembling mangroves.

"I will not be diverted". The stream reclaims its original course. Too bad if the developers built that house in the way! "I'm coming through!"

Plantsbrook forces its way through. The open garage door marks the passage of the current, and opposite a metal door buckles under the pressure. "I will not be stopped".

The series of lakes and water meadows on which the flats were built, live once again.

I'm sure he wished he'd paid heed to the sign!

Steal my picturesque banks and you'll pay the price!

An innocent bystander watches on and sympathises.

Heed the warning, the smallest trickle can become a torrent. Respect Plantsbrook and it will cool your feet on a hot day, lull you with its babbling while you daydream and rest your eyes with its calm beauty. Mistreat it and it will flood you out, wash you away and make you pay!!!