Damsel(fly) in Distress...

Even though I had a list of chores that needed doing, it was far too warm and muggy to do much. I elected to go kayaking instead.

I took my homemade underwater camera housing, but the water was murky, churned up by the passing narrowboats.

At the margins of the water, amongst the reeds and weeds it was a little clearer, but the fish I had intended to film had been spooked by boat propellers.

After a few miles of paddling I stopped for a snack. The damselflies were busy doing what damselflies do. These 'Large Red Damselflies' (Pyrrhosoma Nymphula) were quite striking with their bright red eyes. Although they're called 'large reds' they're actually very small, much smaller than the more common blue or green specimens.

This tiny chappess laying eggs on a twig is one of the smaller species (Ischnura Elegans).

In my eagerness to get a closer photo I scared the poor thing and it hastily took flight...

...straight into a spiders web. The spider was all of a fluster. It really wasn't sure whether it wanted this flying predator tangled in its trap, and quickly hid behind a leaf.

Carefully, I teased the damselfly free and let it perch on my finger.

It gave itself a good preening and carried out a few pre-flight checks.

It was a cute little thing. With a cock of its head as if to say 'thanks', or perhaps 'thanks for nothing', it was off, skimming the water, and dancing with its friends.

It was time for me to be off too. Homeward bound on my mirrored carriageway...

An Aqueduct too Far...

I was suffering badly from idle-itus, an untreatable condition that was causing my kayak paddles to go slower than normal. Luckily there was no rush, and soon enough I was at Fazeley Junction. Decisions, decisions, do I go north to Whittington, or south towards Coventry? The 10 miles to Whittington and back suddenly seemed a long way, so I instead opted to go the short distance to where the canal passes over the River Tame on a high aqueduct.

A Second World War 'pillbox' stands guard over the water here. These war relics fascinate me. This one is particularly interesting. It's a FW3 Type 26. There were less than 200 of this type built. The more common hexagonal Type 22's are dotted in their thousands across the country. This Type 26 is unusual in that it only has embrasures/ loopholes on one side rather than all four. The angle of the loophole slots would have allowed full gun coverage of both the canal and the river below all the way towards Tamworth. There are horizontal slots along the sides, with remnants of wood still in them. Many of these structures where either 'merged', or disguised, and I wonder if these wooden batons were left from some sort of cladding in an attempt to make it look more civilian in nature. For many miles this stretch of the River Tame was used as a natural 'stop line' during the war. There are pillboxes dotted all along its length as well as brick lined cutouts in the bank where patrol boats lurked ever ready under tree cover. The waterway here is only a narrowboats width, which is... narrow. The railings on the towpath side are always a worry to pedestrians with dogs or small children as there is a sheer drop down to the river.

The river looked inviting, but the thought of carrying a 20 kilo kayak laden with another 10 kilo of luggage left me feeling exhausted. It would have to wait for another day, maybe in summer when those trees are in leaf and I can tie a hammock up over the water from an overhanging branch.

Over the other side of the aqueduct was an intriguing doorway that begged to be investigated. Leaving my kayak under the protection of the pillbox, I scrambled through the undergrowth until I reached the sandstone steps.

It was a little disappointing. It was just a small storage room, fire blackened and litter strewn by local scallywags.

Back at my kayak I drank my obligatory flask of Camp coffee while contemplating the paddle home.

The Drayton footbridge was a welcome sight, although the din of the traffic wasn't. My rumbling tummy helped drown out the noise as a bacon sandwich beckoned me homeward...

The Burly Bird gets the Worm...

The weather this week has been somewhat confused. You'll set off in sunshine, only to be caught out in a blizzard, shortly followed by sunshine as if nothing had happened.

The sunny weather lured me out onto the water, but after only a mile kayaking it greyed over leaving me to paddle the last 4 miles in freezing rain.

The fox hates it too, you can tell. When there is a clear starry night , he's a happy chappy, but he really isn't keen on the wet weather. His little paws get soggy and he's quick to grab his food and take it somewhere dry to hold up.

Even the Buzzards are finding it difficult. Their main prey around here are rabbits and they don't tend to come out during the day when the weather is bad.

They're having to resort to low level ambush hunting of hedgerow birds and eating worms from the newly ploughed fields. I didn't realise Buzzards ate worms, and for a long while wondered why they were sitting out in the muddy furrows. They must have to eat a lot of worms to feed a bird with a wingspan of over a metre!

Where's my Spoon?...

It was cold (3c) and grey but at least the water wasn't frozen. Well there was the occasional mini iceberg but thankfully nothing 'Titanic'.

After about an hours paddling I hauled up on the sandy bank in the woods next to the military firing range. Apart from the sporadic bursts of machine gun fire and the odd explosion, it's generally very peaceful, the perfect place for a snack.

I was happy to wrap my cold donnies around a warm flask of coffee. When I came to eat my soup, I discovered I'd lost my spoon. It's somewhat difficult to search a kayak while it's wobbling about underneath you. Not in the for or aft hold, not sitting on it, not in the seat pocket, not in my dry bag.... where's it gone?? I had it a moment ago! I even paddled out to see if I'd dropped it in the water... GONE.

I suppose it'll turn up somewhere...

The cold weather meant I had the water to myself, and it was a joy to cruise along the mirrored surface. As the sun dropped so did the temperature, and so I headed homeward.

I'd only done 5 miles and would have been happy to carry on further. The darkness came, and I hadn't fitted the lights to the kayak, so I called it a day and loaded it onto the car. Can't wait for the return of the long days of summer...

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...

Coast trip...Day two.(kayaking)....

From the campsite the sea looked perfect for kayaking. After a big mug of tea and the last of the bacon, we set off.... There was too much surf at the local beach so we headed up the coast to an old fishing harbour. After a lot of lugging of heavy stuff it was quite a relief to be out on the water relaxing.

At first I found the conditions a little unsettling as a wind picked up. I use a long paddle with a large blade and this meant that it would get caught by gusts, threatening to tip me over. Gradually, after a few wobbles I got used to it and started to really enjoy myself.

It is so tranquil out at sea, sometimes you feel like paddling out to the horizon and not coming back...

...but eventually your arms tire and your tummy rumbles, so I made my way to shore.

The campsite we stayed at is popular with fishermen who like to cast from the rocks beneath the cliff. Mackerel or Sea Bass are the normal catch, and the waters were teaming with them. More than they could eat or take home, kindly they gave some to us. It was left to me to do the messy beheading and gutting, the Seagulls appreciated the leftovers.

They were fresh enough to eat Sushi style, but there's nothing to beat a good fire. Driftwood and a couple of sharpened sticks were all that was needed to get dinner on the go.

The smell was fantastic, I think it was the best fish I've ever had. If only I didn't live so far from the coast I'd eat like this every day!

The wind really picked up on the evening tide and we had some great fun kayaking in the surf. The nose of your boat would point skyward as you rode the waves and once out in open water the swell was so great that it would leave you in the air as the wave passed and then the kayak would drop into the trough with a slap. Coming into shore you could sit forward (not too far or you go arse over tip) and surf in...so much fun.

Tired and happy, I crawled into my sleeping bag.