Bartimaeus

Until now we've always said that we've been over it, and so has Bartimaeus, but not together.  We viewed it as almost inevitable that we would change that story.

I knew from previous crossings that the views are fantastic, but that it is all over very quickly.  It also looked to be difficult to find moorings near to the aqueduct itself.  We walked from Chirk Marina on a beautiful sunny day to have a good look.

We weren't disappointed!  A small road led down to the river crossing which gave us views of the aqueduct towering above us.  The elegant stone pillars look deceptively small from a distance.  Close up it is obvious how huge they are at the base, and they need to be - the tallest ones are over a hundred feet high.

While we were exploring I witnessed the sort of thing we'd been hoping to avoid when crossing.  There is a boat hire base at the north end of the aqueduct (we hired from there once).  The staff were turning a number of boats around, and one of them was making a hash of it.  It wasn't helped by a large group of canoeists patiently waiting to come through, but they were probably sitting in the water the propellor should have been in.  The snarl up was unresolved when we walked past some minutes later - though a different driver had taken over.

Walking across the aqueduct was a new experience for me.  I've been over five times before, but always on a boat.  The view down to the River Dee below has always been enticing.  I was pleased to look down at the original Pontcysyllte (pont is Welsh for bridge) knowing I'd crossed it earlier in the day.

We sat out the weekend hoping that we could find a quieter time for our own crossing.  The clear bright weather we've been treated to for the last few weeks seems to have eventually faded.  Along with dark clouds in the sky and some showers, ducklings have suddenly appeared.  Just before we reached the aqueduct, I spotted a brood of thirteen hurrying behind Mum as we drove by.

We had to wait for a dozen or so canoeists to finish crossing the aqueduct before we could go over.  Canal and River Trust must be concerned that folk would moor up too close to the aqueduct if they provided bollards for waiting boats.  I might have just let the boat drift, but I wanted to reassure the canoeists, and signal to the narrowboat behind us that we were waiting, so I hopped off and held the centre rope while we waited.

Once it was clear, we drove on to the aqueduct.  The channel is barely wider than the boat, so there is very little in the way of steering to do.  The flow against us reduced our speed to around 1 mph, so we had time to enjoy the experience.  The first time I crossed I was amazed to discover that there was a guard rail on the towpath side, but not on the other.  When driving, the side of the trough is slightly below your feet.

Clare was much more relaxed about crossing by boat than she had been on foot.  I was able to hand the helm to her while I hopped on to the towpath to photograph us high above the River Dee.

Our timing had worked well.  There was no traffic jam at the other end and I was able to take the right angle turn towards Llangollen.  The original canal design did not turn here, but connected to a reservoir near Wrexham.  That section was never built, so a "navigable feeder" was dug instead to supply water from the River Dee above Llangollen (yes, the same river that was 126 feet below us).

Perhaps because it was built as an after-thought, or maybe because the local geology was difficult, there are some sections of the feeder that are extremely narrow.  A warning sign told me that the next 300 yards were too narrow to pass in, but to look out for the white posts that marked the passing place.  The lay-by was big enough to hold a single boat.  We passed it without meeting anyone.  The current was very strong here too, so it took quite a while to get through.  If we'd met someone coming the other way, I suspect putting the throttle to neutral would have been enough to get us back through this section.

As we were approaching Llangollen another sign warned of an even longer narrow section and advised sending someone ahead.  Clare gamely ran on and I meanwhile continued at a very sedate pace round the blind corner ahead of me.

I soon saw Clare coming back.  She didn't give me the "boat coming" signal, so I was pretty confident the way was clear.  The rain that had been threatening all day started to spit at us as we arrived.  I stopped at one of the first mooring spots and was pleased to see electric posts on the towpath.  I'd discovered that these were available, and the electricity was included in the £13 per night mooring fee.

We'd driven on electric the whole way.  Fighting the current had dropped our charge levels to under 75%.  I was pleased to plug in and see the batteries start to charge immediately (and continued to charge until after we'd gone to bed).  The moorings here are under the trees, and there is little sun forecast for a day or two anyway, so the shore power is especially welcome.