Back to long pants as we’re blown to Barlaston

I had my early morning run, and took Meg out around Stone Common in shorts, and frankly it was bloody perishing! The wind, coming in from the east was carrying a sharp edge to it, requiring a jacket and trousers to keep it out.

I mooched around town yesterday, picking up filters, oil, paint, and screws for servicing the engine and a few odd jobs that needing doing, finishing up at Greggs for cakes for tea.

This morning, (well, late morning if the truth be told) we said our goodbyes to Mo on Balmaha and set off northward. We may see Mo and Ness later in the year, they’re heading for the Llangollen with no definite plans after, we’re heading for Manchester with no definite plans after, so our non-plans might coincide.

Leaving Stone

Meaford Locks are just on the northern edge of the expanding town, four locks taking the canal up 32 feet.

Meaford Locks

The first two were set against us as a boat had gone up ahead, but a boat was coming down and we crossed below Lock 33, so the top two were in our favour.

Frothy water in Meaford Top Lock

Leaving the locks we had a blowy couple of miles alongside the railway to moor between Barlaston and Trentham.

One of a pair of buzzards circling above the canal.

I never tire of watching these large birds planing on the wind, effortlessly making height then falling off the wind to swoop on something interesting and perhaps edible.

The Plume of Feathers has a new idea for getting the punters in. Not a traditional pub game, but needs must.

Tomorrow, if the weather isn’t too bad, up the Stoke Locks to Etruria.

Locks 4, miles 3