A walk of duty to top up the mileage before a busy week. Set off down the canal through the evening haze of midges. Past the former Cowley Lock toll house, a photo of it from 1932 on a noticeboard letting us know it's a listed building. Around the coot-calling, parrot-screeching, cygnet-ringed waters of Little Britain and then across to the roaring M25 and north along it to Elk Meadows in Iver. Lots of water birds in plain sight. Songs of the passerines and others proof they were there too. Plagues of rabbits fleeing the threat of the lone rambler. The noise of the motorway wasn't as annoying as the mapped paths that led to private ends, forcing returns. But I shouldn't complain. The myriad venous rights-of-way allow remarkable access for which all wanderers should be grateful (and fight for their preservation).
Lots fragrant Black Locusts (false acacia), the white racemes of which transform even the Uxbridge High Street for a few weeks every year. Admittedly the fragrance has been hijacked by the air freshener industry but far better the airs of a clean rather than a dirty toilet while shopping.
The lush leaf-full canopy blocked the GPS and Walkmeter dropped a few km. Two and a half hours for 13 km. A bit slow but enjoyable and still bright at 2130.
Lots fragrant Black Locusts (false acacia), the white racemes of which transform even the Uxbridge High Street for a few weeks every year. Admittedly the fragrance has been hijacked by the air freshener industry but far better the airs of a clean rather than a dirty toilet while shopping.
The lush leaf-full canopy blocked the GPS and Walkmeter dropped a few km. Two and a half hours for 13 km. A bit slow but enjoyable and still bright at 2130.
WANTED: SPONSOR FOR 13 KM
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