In the Zone, Day 3 (Wed 30th May 2007)

A real peacefully night.
This hammock is the most comfortable thing I have ever slept in. Might even chuck the bed out when I get home.

Waking up by running water with the birds singing, the stresses and strains of life a million miles away.
Yesterday there was that need to see how far I could get in a day. Today, distance seems unimportant. I’m already were I want to be.
Decide to stay in this magical place for while.
Relight the fire, always a comfort, make a brew, carve a rocking chair out of an old tree stump, that sort of thing.

Get the shock of my life when a bloke comes round the corner in a kayak. He’s the first person I’ve seen on the river since I left on Monday. Turns out he’s set off from Stone, pretty much the head of the river and is heading down to the Humber Estuary. Good to meet another who has answered the call of the River.




About midday, a helicopter passes overhead, and with thoughts of being reported as a forest fire hazard, decide its time to make a move.









About half mile down river is a Hanson Quarry that I’ve done a fair bit of work in over the past couple of years were I want to stop and have a brew.

It’s while digging out the sand and gravel that a boat was found, one of the dug out oak tree jobs. Carbon dated 3,500 years old. With a ton of stone blocks on board. Overloaded I’d say. But, I mean, this river has had an active commercial trade for thousands of years. Well he wasn’t doing for nothing was he?

I had the thought one winters day looking out of the bedroom window at the river about to burst its banks, when did the first kid jump on a tree floating past because his Mum had chucked him out of the cave for drawing pictures of animals on the walls.

Coming into Shardlow, just before the Sign that marks the limit of Navigation today I spy a pub through the trees. This is the first time I’ve been away from the boat since I left home. A bit of a tug to leave but I do need to see if I can get some milk.

A friendly barmaid heart is tugged by my daring tale of sleeping in the woods and drinking black tea.
Well, it would be rude not to have a pint while I'm there.

On into Sharlow marina just to make the point to myself that from now on I've to be aware that I'll be in the company of other boats, all of them bigger than me. Scrounge some water of one of the narrow boats. Forgot in the pub.




Carrying on, now with a bit of head on me, I had a couple if I'm telling the truth, and I just haven't felt like eating much, so it's gone straight to my head.. Pass under the M1 motorway, have to climb the bank and watch the traffic roaring past. Feel like I'm visiting from a parallel universe.
And up to Sawley Marina. This is on a short stretch of canal that enables boats to get past a weir. Next time I'll carry the boat round the weir and follow the river but this time opt to carry the boat round the lock and row down the canal the half mile until it rejoins the Trent. Nice enough, but its the river that does it for me.
Although it's time to make camp for some reason I decide to press on to Trent Lock were the River Soar joins us.
Pull up along side a narrow boat moored outside the pub and ask if I can tie up while I go to the pub to get my phone charged. Certainly they say, in fact we'll charge it for you, come aboard, have a can, ........... next thing were coming out the pub at closing time, bluttered.

Off I go in the dark trying to find somewhere to camp. There's another short bit of canal here to bypass another weir. But there are boats moored all the way along with people living aboard. Not a hope of finding somewhere to hang my hammock.
Now it starts to rain. In drunken desperation, I tie up between two boats, pull a poncho over me and hunker down on the floor of the boat. You've seen how big the boat is? this aint good....