Words & photos:
MAL GREY
Mal runs the ‘Wilderness is a State of Mind’ website @ WWW.WILDERNESSISA
STATEOFMIND.CO.UK
Adventures in a ditch – A tribute to the smaller rivers of England
I’m in a tree with a canoe. Several feet above the dark water of a small river in southern England, trying to haul it over a blockage. Nobody knows I’m here, apart, that is, from the small hungry flying things and the spiders on my face. My boat is full of leaves, sticks, and all the spiders’ friends and family. For a while, I wonder if I’m actually stuck, but eventually, somewhat bedraggled, I heave myself free of the tree and emerge out onto the gentle, calm waters of a tranquil lowland stream.
Mountains. Wilderness. Jungles. Rapids. Portages. All words that conjure up the more adventurous side of canoeing, paddling through wild country on arduous but hugely rewarding trips. But what about closer to home? For me, that means southeast England, not a part of the world-renowned for being full of adventures. That first experience above was my introduction to the entertaining world of ‘ditching’, as we’ve come to call it.
I probably became aware of ‘ditching’ as a concept by following the work of ‘Patterdale Paddler’, Dick, on the Song of the Paddle forum. With his mate ‘Hippo’, Dick has become famous, or infamous, for finding a way of getting a canoe down one of the small blue lines on an Ordnance Survey map, no matter whether there was any water, or if there was more time spent in trees than there was floating. No ditch is too small for this pair, and they always enjoy themselves thoroughly.
Steadily, I have found myself drawn into this daft game. It turns out it is, indeed, rather good fun squeezing beneath fallen boughs and thrashing through the undergrowth. There is a proper sense of the ridiculousness of trying to get a 16’ open canoe down a stream too small to turn around in that is full of reeds or choked with fallen trees, and I have always approved of slightly mad ideas. We should all do more of them.
The Wey
My adventures started on my beloved local River Wey in Surrey. This lovely river has a managed navigation that sometimes follows the natural river and is partly made up of canal sections between locks and weirs. That means several backwaters of the old natural river offer a more attractive route. Some of these involve at least a little tree dodging and, at worst, the occasional portage around a fallen monster.
One of these, the ‘Triggs loop’, bypassing Triggs Lock, was the scene of that first solo adventure described at the start. A point here; proper ditching needs a bit of care, and if there is any flow at all, being alone is not recommended, something I learnt early on by scaring myself slightly whilst half jammed under a tree trying not to fall out of my canoe. Another, St Catherine’s Loop, always has some new trees down as it passes through a lovely woodland and needs to be approached with a little caution. Yet it offers a beautiful tranquil paddle and makes for a lovely summer evening route as there is enough traffic to keep the route reasonably clear.
The Abbey River
Not far from home, the Thames flows slowly towards the metropolis of London. At one point near Chertsey, an unusual backwater leaves the main river and meanders its way for several miles before re-joining the main river below a large weir. This ancient stream, known as the Abbey River, was dug mainly by monks at Chertsey Abbey, presumably to allow boat access and maybe also a mill.
Today, it offers an excellent, reasonably accessible ditching opportunity, with a circular route going up the Thames and down the Abbey River. To add another dimension to the jungle-like battle to navigate this little stream, there is also often a lot of growth of invasive species, Floating Pennywort.
This forms thick, heavy rafts of ‘salad’, which are truly difficult to battle through. Once, it took me 40 minutes to ‘thrutch’ my way across a 100-metre raft, a technique used to move the canoe forwards by ‘hopping’ upwards at the same time as shoving the boat forwards. This works slowly and energetically when paddles cannot get enough purchase, and poles don’t work well because of overhanging trees. In the middle of this patch, as I was sweating and swearing quietly to myself, an inquisitive head appeared to my side, and a horse whinnied, seeming to laugh at my pathetic progress.
The Thames
I’m not sure if the Thames counts as a ditch. However, it has plenty of ditchy characteristics in the far upper reaches above where motorboats can navigate. Here it is a tiny stream, often too tight to turn around in, shallow and full of reeds and water grass. The odd tree or five also help, yet it is travelled often enough that in most cases, the route through is just about clear. It is amazing to paddle on this clear, bubbling stream and remember that the same water flows out under Tower Bridge through the city of London.
The first two or three miles are a proper adventure, finding the best line and navigating through tight twists and turns. The further you travel, the more the river opens out, yet suddenly it can narrow again as the reeds and trees close in, sending you into another miniature jungle adventure.
Further downstream, and not ditchy enough to include here, St Patrick’s Stream is still a mini-adventure as it meanders its way prettily around Shiplake Lock over a few miles.
Lox
Sometimes you bite off more than you should do. This was the case some years ago when we attempted a descent of the river (laughable description) Lox alongside the Wey & Arun canal, which we intended to use for the return leg.
All went well for perhaps 30 yards before we came across our first blockage. Small saws were deployed to make a route through, but as we were quite a large group, progress was slow. After an hour and nearly half a mile, we appeared at a weir pool. This turned out to be why there was plenty of water so far, backed up behind the weir.
Below it, it was just a ditch, the water too narrow for some of the canoes to float in. Another two hours saw us abandon the attempt after about a mile and a half and fight our way back up to the canal. Goodness knows what the towpath walkers thought about these strange people covered in filth dragging canoes out of a massive patch of stinging nettles.
Cherwell
A friend and my attempts to navigate the backwaters of the River Cherwell in Oxfordshire with camping gear ended similarly. Another river that loosely follows a canal, this pretty river is not often paddled. Attempting to take one loop between locks on the canal, Rob and I spent 3 hours in this overgrown ditch, trying to break through many blockages with saws. Popping out of this ditch to see how far we’d come, we realised we’d ditched around three sides of a field and were now just 100 metres from our starting point, with hours to go to get to our planned camp spot. We transferred to the canal.
Almost the same thing happened the next day further downstream. But with heavy rain.
The Mole – moving water ditching
This one probably deserves a class of its own and is a pretty serious undertaking. The River Mole is unusual for southern England, as it is almost a spate river. Often, there is not enough water to paddle, but after rain, it comes up very quickly, and as the spate starts to drop away, the level is just right for a proper adventure. The Mole is very much full of trees and has a bad reputation. As such, it needs to be thought of like a whitewater trip, done with an experienced team with safety gear and cover as required, and many of the obstacles inspected carefully before being run. It is also a river with several small saws on its bottom, as it seems to like them being offered to it as sacrifices. You need good skills to manoeuvre down this one.
The Hoe Stream
Now we come to a multi-day adventure. Not as a continuous trip, but as a series of visits, each time getting a bit farther up this tiny stream. The Hoe Stream is very much a stream rather than a river and runs through Woking town centre to the River Wey. A couple of friends and I reckoned we could make our way up it to get to the park in the middle of town. As far as we know, this had not been done for many years, if ever. It’s only about three miles, and this would take us five days’ work to clear enough of a passage for a canoe.
At first, it’s a delightful little stream, with just the odd blockage. After passing a road bridge, though, the first of many, many tree blockages appeared ahead. The biggest one took two visits to pass, taking a good couple of hours to reach each time. Finally breaking through it, there were still numerous obstacles between it and a lovely surprise weir, almost like an ornamental waterfall in a secret glade.
We got a little further each time we returned, but it also took longer to reach the latest high point. Sometimes we’d resort to lying on our canoes whilst a companion held the stern steady, inching forwards to cut a route through with loppers or saws. By the fifth day, we were now surrounded by an urban landscape, yet we could see only greenery. Suddenly we were there, and popped out somewhat surreally by Woking Leisure centre, grabbed a coffee, and returned from whence we came.
The descent was idyllic, all the squeezes and clambers like old friends now, and the ditch was full of life. Damselflies danced, small fish flittered below us, and even a grass snake appeared, basking on a lily pad. An utterly delightful journey after all our efforts, though within just a few weeks, most of our work would start to grow back; that’s another thing about ditches; they change with every visit.
These tangled streams are havens of life for many creatures, from the flash of a kingfisher to the croak of a heron. They are little corridors of nature winding their way between agriculture and the urban sprawl. All that hard work is well worth it for the joy of spending time in a miniature wilderness, and the silliness of the whole thing is very much rewarded by the camaraderie of getting covered in cobwebs and stung by nettles along with good mates.
Ditching etiquette & safety
As far as I’m aware, there is no handbook on the rights and wrongs of ditching. When clearing a passage, I usually try to do the minimum to get through, rather than clear a larger opening, using small hand saws and maybe loppers for thinner stuff. However, there are times on more popular rivers where the number of people likely to pass means that a wider route is more appropriate for safety reasons. As for safety, being alone is unwise on anything with any flow; trees and flow are not a good combination. Always be aware of how stable you are, help each other and if doing any gardening work, use caution around tools.
Be aware of invasive species such as the Floating Pennywort previously mentioned. Ditching could help spread the growth into new water systems, so ensure your canoe and equipment are inspected and clean and given time to dry out properly between visiting different waters.
Finally, remember your ditch will likely pass between private land, so access only where appropriate, often at the ends, and if you have to get out due to something impassable, do so discretely with respect.
Ditching; is a strangely rewarding and appropriately eccentric way to get off the usual obvious rivers and have a bit of fun in beautiful surroundings.
