We pencilled in coming to Yorkshire about a year ago. At the time I had envisioned us being here in the height of summer. Various delays at the start of the year pushed us back a few months, so it is something of a surprise to be still heading north well in to September. There are parts of the network that, rightly or wrongly, have a reputation for being problematic. If you mention the Ouse, people will suck their teeth and talk about flooding.
When we were in York, I checked the Environment Agency (EA) website when we moored up. It showed a predicted rise in water level of more than a meter for the day after tomorrow. That seems to have been a modelling error, the actual rise was less than half of that, and only arrived after we’d left. We would still have had to be sure our ropes had a suitable amount of slack.
When we got to Linton we were lucky enough to be reminded about flood risk by another boater, so we were in the right place when the river rose significantly there. Locals in the pub explained that some of that rise is backflow from nearby rivers that are not monitored by EA.
Poor weather and uncertainty about where we might moor in Boroughbridge made us choose to stay an extra day in Linton. The main inconvenience of this was that we ran out of milk. I found a nearby convenience store marked on my map has been closed for years – I’ve now found out how to indicate that on OpenStreetMap. The afternoon was still windy, but dry. I enjoyed a bike ride to Tollerton (four miles away) where the shop was very much open.
The journey to Boroughbridge was uneventful except for a number of kingfisher sightings in the sunshine. At some point the river name changes to Ure, but it is not obvious on the water. The two surges had passed, and had also been much smaller than the EA model had predicted. There were plenty of moorings and no competition, we would have been fine the day before too.
Yesterday, Jude joined us on board for the trip to Ripon. The air was cold but the sun was bright. We were all delighted to spot another kingfisher on the river. At the only river lock, a small cruiser was coming out as we arrived. The two guys on board asked if we had any water they could have. It seemed they were not well prepared. They had gas for a kettle, but no matches, and their water tank was empty. We remembered the 5 litre bottles of water we bought for emergencies in our first week on board. We gave away two to a boater who needed them more than us. Now was a good time to give away the other two. They were beyond their date, so I emptied one of the bottles and refilled it from our tap. They can decide for themselves which is safest to use.
The entrance to the Ripon Canal is clearly signposted, but it still looks like the signpost is wrong. Jude and Clare congratulated me for spotting it before getting off to work the lock. A Canal and River Trust (CRT) worker was painting one gate. Fortunately, we can manage with only the other gate open, so this wasn’t much of a problem. She was friendly and chatty, warning me of the hazardous boards on the inside of the tail gates. The boards make crossing the lock gates safe and easy, but they are also capable of reshaping a tiller if the boat rises under them.
As the head gates were opening she shouted “stop”. This lock has a feature we haven’t met before! The boards for crossing the head gates are on the outside of the lock, but they foul the paddle mechanism. A hinged section has to be lifted – but Clare hadn’t read the sign. Once the gates are closed, there is then an extra job – closing the flap.
The CRT woman also warned us that the next two locks were each a little shorter than the previous one. The canal is officially rated for a 57′ wide boat, ours is 58’6″, but narrow. We hoped we’d be able to make it to the end of the canal, but we knew we might not. She wasn’t sure we’d be able to turn at the end either.
I wasn’t anxious about fitting in the locks or not. Bartimaeus reverses easily, and we are used to having contingency plans. The final lock was tight. Clare drove in so that the nose was resting on the cill, but the back of the boat was still blocking the open gate. Fortunately, the back of the boat was just in front of the closed gate on the other side. By pushing the tiller sideways and running the propellor, Clare was able to push the boat to that side. Now we could close the gate. With the gates closed, there was obviously some spare room inside the lock – good, we’ll need that space to make sure we stay off the cill when we return.
It wasn’t far to the end of the canal. As we approached it was obvious that there was plenty of space to turn. There was a mystery yellow float in the water which I kept well away from, and still had several feet to spare all round. Concerns about winding were misplaced. We moored up and headed towards the bus station, knowing that we should be just in time for Jude’s bus home. We arrived in good time, but unfortunately the bus was over half an hour late – better than the other way round though! When we got back to the boat the trip boat was back. There’s still plenty of room to turn round.
Ripon is the furthest north we can go on this side of the Pennines. When we were at Tewitfield three years ago we were very slightly further north. That had involved a crossing on tidal rivers too. In the meantime we’ve been as far south as we can go at Godalming. I was surprised at the level of relief I have felt since arriving here. Perhaps it is a feeling of completion, or just being back on a canal that doesn’t seem to be at constant risk of flooding.
Today we got the tandem out and cycled up to Fountains Abbey. We’d been before over ten years ago with our boys. Our route there took us through the deer park so we’d seen some of the attractions before we even arrived. The warm sunshine and light wind was welcome as we explored the Abbey, the mill and the water gardens.
I was pleased to find a different route back which took us through quiet lanes with views over the Vale of York.