#ickleford

Today Slobber Monster Rio and I decided to walk to Ickleford Common. We started walking through Ransoms Recreation Ground along the "River Walk", under the willow, which was shining green and yellow in the late morning sunshine, with Rio trotting along beside me, needing only the occasional tug of the lead to remind him who's the boss. Then through the hidden garden which is blooming with beds of lilac tinted blue and flat white daffodils and we followed the little river Hiz through the tunnel under the great north eastern railway and onto Grove Road. Across the road and a quick left onto the footpath to Ickleford, still following the Hiz. The footpath is colourful with litter, cans and strange bits of twisted metal from the industrial estate above the banking, but the submerged bicycles and rusted scooters were pulled out of the river a few weeks ago and it now flows freely and cleanly. We walk over the uneven bricks where another trickle of water empties into the Hiz from a yellow-brick tunnel (I don't know where it comes from - Google and OS have both failed me, I will investigate), under the railway again and past the wrecking yard where the tops of cranes clunk and creak above the container-metal fence which towerds above the little white flowers, cowslips and suddenly rampant nettles. The suddenly rampant nettles (which were not there the last time I tried this walk) suddenly lean in from the sides of the path, reaching tiny splinter tipped leaves towards my unwisely bare legs, eep! Through the nettles we pass under an apparently unused little bridge which leads from the back entrance to the wreckers yard to - who knows where? I am going to investigate it someday.

We emerge from the strange path and Ickleford Common (it's not really IC, I don't know it's real name) appears in front of us. The open space in which I usually throw balls for the Slobber Monster has been overrun by tiny nettles and thistley leaves, but I chuck a few for my big hard boxer anyway. He brings the first one back prancing over the thistles like a poodle, but still drops it at my feet and shoots off after the next one like it was people-food!

We walk on, between the Hiz and the common, which is strewn with the trunks of tall young trees. Slobber Monster unloads his body weight in steaming shit and I cover my hand with a white carrier bag to scoop it up, hoping against hope that the bag has no holes in it. Soon Rio unleashes a glob of slobber onto my shorts and  plunges into the Hiz to cool down. As he splashes around and drinks like a whale I can see, over the river and through some long grass, the secret water fall, flowing over a concrete dam and framed by rusted metal. As always, I wonder what it is and how to reach it. Still wondering, Rio and I walk on.

Round the common and over a bridge made of old railway sleepers into the field on the other side. Now following the other side of the Hiz we walked across the field, and here it seems that we will have to leave the banks of the Hiz and walk the rest of the way along the road, as the river flows seemlessy up to a fence bordering the field. I try to find a way across the river by walking along the side of the fence, but no go. Then I spot a gap in the undergrowth on the river bank. We pick our way through the nettles and through the gap and we come to a shallow fast flowing bit of the river. The Slobber Monster leaps in with gusto and I throw my sandals over to the other side, roll up my shorts, and wade over.

We find ourselves in the shade of a little copse of low trees, with small paths in every direction. I choose the path that seems to be least over grown with nettles and press on. If you don't have a high pain threshold an feet of iron (like me! Urg! Stop laughing Sian) then I wouldn't recommend this walk in shorts! Prickled by the tiny poisoned barbs (my shins and feet are still tingling with the poison as I write this) we press on (gingerly?) through the nettles and, past the dry trunk of a fallen tree, come back out into a small sunny meadow. Less wild flowers and more spiky and poisoned plants, but sun drenched and pleasant none the less. Through more nettles we cross the medow into another copse on the other side where we find evidence that humanity has been here before us; an abandoned grotto. There is a knotted rope over the river and two hand made muddy hills for biking over, I bet this has some good memories for a 25 year old banker and his mates!

Round the corner from the grotto and again we hit a dead end. We have found our way onto an island formed where two rivers meet (The Hiz and The Oughton the OS tells me). The rivers flow deep and fast here and we are now faced with the prospect of again braving the meadow of nettles and the ford over the Hiz when I spot the secret waterfall, hidden behind the back of the grotto. We pick our way over to the waterfall. The wall of concrete is wide enough for Rio and I to walk over, but then I could get over the water fall but Rio would be left stranded, and we leave no one behind. Still, just in case, we carefully, one foot after the other, edge along the wall. Standing over the sparking water falling smoothly over the lip of the wall we find that we can climb down a muddy banking to the base of the water fall and, again throwing my shoes over to the other side, I wade over and Rio splashes over to the other side! Finally free of the Island we are on a field that I have often walked beside, bordered by allotments to our left and the main road - and civilisation - strait ahead.