One of the great things about walking is you can be out on a trail somewhere and spot signs pointing to other paths. Sometimes you wonder where a particular offshoot leads. Planning a route online opens up myriad possibilities. Many mental notes are made. Countless options present themselves. It really is a self perpetuating hobby.
Such was the case when I traversed the 270-yard long and 86-feet high Avon Aqueduct, which carries the Union Canal. The views from the top of the structure were lovely and a lengthy railway viaduct was prominent in the distance. It occurred to me that walking between the two bridges would make a nice outing in its own right. However, a 10-mile towpath pounding was the order of the day and I had no time to investigate down below. I did pass a sign pointing to the River Avon Heritage Trail and swore to come back and check this route out. Fast forward a year and I found myself making my way down the staircase from the canal embankment, having just crossed the aqueduct following a short walk from a lay-by on the B825. Some hasty shooting (with a camera, I hasten to add) of a pair of goosanders had provided the early excitement on this expedition. The ducks were haughty but I must have looked like Charles Hawtrey filming a scene from Carry On Snapping as I scurried back and forth, apparatus in hand. That and the discovery of a couple of locations where an old railway had obviously crossed the canal must have disorientated me, for I set off in the wrong direction before thinking, hang on, I'm sure the water was on my right the last time I approached the aqueduct.
Giant bridges are best appreciated from ground level. You can marvel at the scale of the engineering. I've always found it more difficult to admire the craftsmanship from the decking, although the view can of course be stunning. I had to deviate from the official trail to get up close and personal with the Avon Aqueduct but the going was easy enough. Back on the designated path (the John Muir Way no less!), I tracked the river for a couple of miles towards the obvious destination of the viaduct. Quite often a huge construction project is required for the bridging of a relatively small river but the land contours were gouged out during the ice age and the modern watercourse is merely a leftover trickle. Information boards furnished details of a battle which took place in these parts many moons ago. It's amazing what you learn while out exploring.
The viaduct tops the aqueduct in terms of arches, weighing in with a spectacular count of 23 against the dozen spans that channel the canal. The River Avon lies between the path and the viaduct but that's no bad thing as you need to step back from the structure in order to take in its true scale. Mr Sod was obviously on the magistrate's bench as I waited - camera in hand - for around ten minutes until giving up the ghost, only for a train to hurtle by.
Services are less frequent on a Sunday and in any case a locomotive-hauled train is a rare sight in Scotland these days. I wasn't too bothered about getting a shot of standard commuter carriages crossing the lengthy bridge. I walked back via a slight deviation around a pond and was rewarded with a sighting of tufted ducks. A successful day all round.
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