I Love Getting Muddy
Exploring The River
When the next warm spell came Sally and I decided it was time to explore the river that crosses the ford. We were both in our wellies and yellow overalls. Over these, I was my red coat and Sally in her blue one. We knew that we were going to get very wet very quickly, but was not at all sure how muddy.
As a marker, the water on the ford was about an inch below the tops of my wellies at the deepest point.
The river clearly went through wooded areas whichever way we went from the ford, so we started off downstream. That proved to be fruitless as the first bend was leading us straight towards a farm and the dogs started to bark immediately.
Back towards the ford in double quick time, but we dodged into the ditch so that if anyone looked along the road they would not see us. Since our last expedition here grass had started to grow down the sides but there was several inches of soft mud in the bottom and a slimy bare patch down the side where the water drained off the road.
After a few minutes of total silence we decided it was safe to leave. Sally tried to scrabble up the side of the ditch at the low point where the water drained. The ditch was about 4ft deep, but the sides were very slippery. Sally failed as there was nothing to grip, but she did get a good la<x>yer of mud streaked down her front. Not to be defeated, I lay back in the muddy side and cupped my hands for Sally to use me as a ladder. As she came up me the muddy goo on her boots was wiped all over me, including the hood as she stood on my shoulders.
She was up and it was my turn. As I was a bit shorted, Sally just assumed I would go round through the ford, but I was not going to be beaten. I got her to lay down in the verge across the top of the water run and then grabbed her and pulled. Either I would go up or Sally would come back down. In the end I succeeded in hauling myself up and that included rolling over Sally and depositing a load of mud on her.
Crossing the road we came to the little pedestrian footbridge and it was time to get wet. As with the blind fold run (earlies story) I slid down the bank and was immediately in over my knees. I moved to one side and Sally followed me in. I had to laugh as she immediately made for the other side where it was shallower. Firstly her wellies were full by now and secondly we were going to go upstream where we knew it was going to be a lot deeper.
We moved to the pool, which was as far as we had been so far. Sally was keeping to the shallower side and I was in the deeper, but once in the pool, she was in up to her waist, and I was almost to my boobs.
Soon the river became so narrow it did not matter, we just held hands and kept going. We often needed to support each other as the bottom was very unsteady. Where you touched the actual bottom it seemed to be fairly solid sand and gravel, but for most of the time there was an assortment of dead organic matter that shifted under your feet. We did not wish to fall over and get a mouthful of that. As we walked we often released bubbles of foul smelling gas. The depth was often below the tops of our wellies and after the pool never higher than mid-thigh.
After what seemed an age we came to the edge of the wood and found two fences in our way. The first was an old one that had disintegrated into a mess of rotten posts and rusty barbed wire. It took us some time to get past this but the second fence was just a few well supported runs of plain wire. This was far easier to negotiate, but Sally as she was drawing her second foot through tripped and was face down in knee deep water. Fortunately the rotten material had been left behind and she was on a sandy surface. Her language was most unladylike, made worst by the fact that I was almost doubled up with laughter.
After finally getting her upright again we moved on with ease. The water was about the same depth as our wellies and the going underfoot was easy. It was like this until we came to a wide shallow area. Although only ankle deep, there looked promise on one bank. I climbed out, walked round onto the higher bit of bank and then jumped back in. Under the thin vegetation the mud was almost to the top of my wellies. It turned out only to be only a small surface area but as we jumped about in it it became a bit sloppier. In the end we knelt down in it and proceeded to cover every inch of each other. This included rolling each over and sitting on each other as we scooped mud up for all we were worth.
When tired out and not a bit of uncovered coat to be seen we decided that we would walk back along the field that bordered the wood. This was Sally’s turn for a laugh. Still walking along hand in hand one of my feet just went from under me into an unseen hole. I went over and muddy water sprayed everywhere. We had to examine this and found that there was a spring that had formed a bog. We were surprised that on the walk up the river, we had not seen where this was running into the river, down the bank.
The bog seemed to be an area of soft mud, with firm tufts of grass protruding through. By jumping from a tuft into the mud we could make is spray everywhere, especially over each other.
By the time we were back at the ford we were totally exhausted. There was no way we could get into the car like that so it was a case of stripping to shorts and T-shirt, washing as much mud off as possible and bundling the waterproofs into bin-liners and hauling on the track suits we now knew to bring.
Our shower is mounted over the bath so on getting home it was into the bath with both of us and the bags of clothes. It was more fun washing them down before washing each other.
When the next warm spell came Sally and I decided it was time to explore the river that crosses the ford. We were both in our wellies and yellow overalls. Over these, I was my red coat and Sally in her blue one. We knew that we were going to get very wet very quickly, but was not at all sure how muddy.
As a marker, the water on the ford was about an inch below the tops of my wellies at the deepest point.
The river clearly went through wooded areas whichever way we went from the ford, so we started off downstream. That proved to be fruitless as the first bend was leading us straight towards a farm and the dogs started to bark immediately.
Back towards the ford in double quick time, but we dodged into the ditch so that if anyone looked along the road they would not see us. Since our last expedition here grass had started to grow down the sides but there was several inches of soft mud in the bottom and a slimy bare patch down the side where the water drained off the road.
After a few minutes of total silence we decided it was safe to leave. Sally tried to scrabble up the side of the ditch at the low point where the water drained. The ditch was about 4ft deep, but the sides were very slippery. Sally failed as there was nothing to grip, but she did get a good la<x>yer of mud streaked down her front. Not to be defeated, I lay back in the muddy side and cupped my hands for Sally to use me as a ladder. As she came up me the muddy goo on her boots was wiped all over me, including the hood as she stood on my shoulders.
She was up and it was my turn. As I was a bit shorted, Sally just assumed I would go round through the ford, but I was not going to be beaten. I got her to lay down in the verge across the top of the water run and then grabbed her and pulled. Either I would go up or Sally would come back down. In the end I succeeded in hauling myself up and that included rolling over Sally and depositing a load of mud on her.
Crossing the road we came to the little pedestrian footbridge and it was time to get wet. As with the blind fold run (earlies story) I slid down the bank and was immediately in over my knees. I moved to one side and Sally followed me in. I had to laugh as she immediately made for the other side where it was shallower. Firstly her wellies were full by now and secondly we were going to go upstream where we knew it was going to be a lot deeper.
We moved to the pool, which was as far as we had been so far. Sally was keeping to the shallower side and I was in the deeper, but once in the pool, she was in up to her waist, and I was almost to my boobs.
Soon the river became so narrow it did not matter, we just held hands and kept going. We often needed to support each other as the bottom was very unsteady. Where you touched the actual bottom it seemed to be fairly solid sand and gravel, but for most of the time there was an assortment of dead organic matter that shifted under your feet. We did not wish to fall over and get a mouthful of that. As we walked we often released bubbles of foul smelling gas. The depth was often below the tops of our wellies and after the pool never higher than mid-thigh.
After what seemed an age we came to the edge of the wood and found two fences in our way. The first was an old one that had disintegrated into a mess of rotten posts and rusty barbed wire. It took us some time to get past this but the second fence was just a few well supported runs of plain wire. This was far easier to negotiate, but Sally as she was drawing her second foot through tripped and was face down in knee deep water. Fortunately the rotten material had been left behind and she was on a sandy surface. Her language was most unladylike, made worst by the fact that I was almost doubled up with laughter.
After finally getting her upright again we moved on with ease. The water was about the same depth as our wellies and the going underfoot was easy. It was like this until we came to a wide shallow area. Although only ankle deep, there looked promise on one bank. I climbed out, walked round onto the higher bit of bank and then jumped back in. Under the thin vegetation the mud was almost to the top of my wellies. It turned out only to be only a small surface area but as we jumped about in it it became a bit sloppier. In the end we knelt down in it and proceeded to cover every inch of each other. This included rolling each over and sitting on each other as we scooped mud up for all we were worth.
When tired out and not a bit of uncovered coat to be seen we decided that we would walk back along the field that bordered the wood. This was Sally’s turn for a laugh. Still walking along hand in hand one of my feet just went from under me into an unseen hole. I went over and muddy water sprayed everywhere. We had to examine this and found that there was a spring that had formed a bog. We were surprised that on the walk up the river, we had not seen where this was running into the river, down the bank.
The bog seemed to be an area of soft mud, with firm tufts of grass protruding through. By jumping from a tuft into the mud we could make is spray everywhere, especially over each other.
By the time we were back at the ford we were totally exhausted. There was no way we could get into the car like that so it was a case of stripping to shorts and T-shirt, washing as much mud off as possible and bundling the waterproofs into bin-liners and hauling on the track suits we now knew to bring.
Our shower is mounted over the bath so on getting home it was into the bath with both of us and the bags of clothes. It was more fun washing them down before washing each other.
36-40, F
