Calling it a summit is probably a bit of a stretch, but I suppose since the chart books refer to the bit of water at the top as the “summit pound”, there is some justification in saying that today we reached another summit.
We’ve gone a bit soft we think, having restricted our travels for some weeks now to distances which often meant one or three locks to negotiate in a day, so the ten two days ago and fourteen today came as a bit of a shock to our systems, even though combined they only add to the total that are required in a day if we were coming from the other direction.
The numbers are trivial of course, we have already passed through more than two hundred and sixty of them this year so one wonders why every time we arrive at a stairway of a few locks our reaction is always the same:
“How do they expect us to get the boat up there, and when we do, will we fit under the bridge?”
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