Day 10 - Hack Green to Autherly Junction (ish) - Life on the canals.

A late faffing start sees me finally under way. It is often the way following a long day - nowt changes.

The canal brings mixed feelings. My very earliest days were spent idyllically playing on the canal towpath, later I learnt to paddle there and later still trained for major races in the same spot. I still paddle there to this day. Many canal miles have I.

There's a certain dynamic: life moves at a certain pace, things take as long as they take. It's peaceful.

But things seem to be changing, this one is busy. There are few stretches that are mooring free. As some look to make a home within their finances, they look at living afloat.

It gets busy, and even, god forbid, hectic. The dynamic changes with the increasing numbers.  Not how the canal should be, no not at all. 

There is pecking order too: the hire boats, then the 'weekend warriors' and finally the floating 'residents' at the 'top'.  And of course, at the bottom of it all, a middle-aged bloke in a pink canoe. Get out of the way little boy in your silly little toy.

Anyway, let's go paddling.

The 15 lock flight (or staircase - I'm too tired to think. And before you point out the difference I must point out that I'm too tired to give a flying lock either) at Audlem strikes terror into boaters hearts. But for the little man, in his little pink boat it's not really a problem  I have to 'trolley-up' whether it's 1 lock or 50, the 15 just makes it a slightly longer walk, and somehow seemingly more worthwhile.

The beggars are the ones in a series:  500 or 600m apart. Lots of on/off trolleying or lots of pace-sapping walking - your call.

At the top of the Audlem flight a house has an honesty stall, so being honest I partake in a chocolate ice-cream, some lemon drizzle cake and a bottle of water. The 2nd piece of cake won't fit in the boat, so I eat it too. I head off towards Market Drayton, or somewhere, feeling rather greedily ill.

That's when I discover my toilet key is only ornamental. 

British Waterways Board became the Canal + Rivers Trust. Now I'm sure that's a good thing, but at my age you understand that the reason why anything changes to become 'a trust' needs anything but trusting - whatever bollocks they try to tell you.

The C+R workers are out in force fettling and repairing though, doing a good job as usual. But I get the feeling they are being expected to do more with less. Been there, can see the signs. A shame if I'm right.

 No working toilets between Chester and Kinver - that's a long way to keep you legs crossed (carried that damn key for nothing!). You notice C+R liveried buildings now in private hands, C+R services now provided by external organisations and so on - a shame to slowly diminish such a great organisation.

However in Great British tradition they are still cutting the grass. Even when Kim Jong Whatsisname drops the bomb, the Brits will still find time to cut the grass. By the time I get to Market Drayton my rudder is shifting more grass than a Colorado coffee shop.

It is sunny and green, with quiet spots where lush and luxurious miles slide by.

 That's how life should be on the canal: steady and peaceful, and with a grassy rudder.

29.6 nm - 7 hrs - finished near Codsall on the map, but Autherley Junction sounds nearer to Stourport somehow.

So we'll go with that.