Windy winding

We'd planned to reverse from our mooring back to the junction at Huddlesford, to save going on to Streethay to wind, but it quickly became apparent that this was the tedious option. The canal was just so shallow that Sanity Again kept prop walking back to the towpath, so we gave it up and shoved off to Streethay after all.

I find winding there a right pain, frankly; there's barely enough room to do so, and they will moor boats on the towpath opposite the widest bit of the lagoon. As usual, we ended up having to rest the bow on the side of one of the moored boats in the echelon, and motor the back round. The gusty wind didn't help much, either.

At last it was done, and we toddled off back to Huddlesford and on to Whittington. Here we stopped for a bit to buy a paper and some fresh stuff, and to post our postal votes, Elanor having brought the doings with her last night.

All done, we carried on to wind again beyond Tamhorn Farm Bridge, and tie on the towpath just on the Whittington side of the same bridge. The winding hole at Tamhorn is another that's only just long enough for seventy foot. About half way round, I went astern to ease her back a bit out of the hole, only to find that she wouldn't move. The bow had run hard aground, and much shafting was required to get us going again. This is another situation where a bow thruster would have been useless; it would have bunged up with mud immediately.

After lunch, Elanor and I walked Sally along the towpath to Tamhorn Park Bridge, and so into Hopwas Woods. As I expected, these proved to be ideal dog running terrain. We put the 10 meter line on Sal and let her romp about to her heart's content. By the time we were approaching  the other bridge out of the woods, Hopwas Woods Bridge would you believe, she was looking quite weary.

This was until she spotted a squirrel somewhere up the slope and went after it with the afterburner on. The squirrel got quite a fright; it bolted for a large oak and ran a little way up it, whereupon it stopped to sneer at Sally. Sally, however, had hit the tree so fast, she went about six feet up it, and the squirrel had to make tracks hastily further up the trunk to avoid becoming a tasty afternoon snack.

Back at the boat, we settled down to read and do quizzes, or, in Sally's case, to catch up on much needed zizz.