LOCATION: Shrewsbury to Coalport (Ironbridge)
DISTANCE: 26.34 Miles (42.4 Km)
PADDLING TIME: 5 Hours, 53 Minutes
STRAVA ROUTE: https://www.strava.com/activities/12324542674
I love to (respectfully) wild camp and never more so when on a human powered adventure. The freedom it gives you to travel as little or as far as you like in a day is beautiful. Knowing there is no fixed destination and the choice and location of where to stop for a night is solely your own. This can be based on all manor of factors: tiredness, fading daylight, epic view point – the reasons are plentiful. Annoyingly, I’ve always found the rivers of England to be particularly tricky places to indulge my wild camping passion. High banks, river side footpaths, fishing pontoons, villages and suburban sprawls are just a few of the hindrances. Learning from previous experience, for this trip I had pre-planned my route to ensure I had a destination and sleeping location locked in before I left home. Although this removes any worry of not being able to find somewhere to stop and does offer the pleasing reward of a warm shower at the end of each day, it meant my daily distance would be controlled and on some days, limited.
Night two had been spent at the Shropshire showground who rent their fields for camping when not hosting events. Situated directly on the banks for the river and with a stoney beach to disembark from, the 100 acre site was more than capable off accommodating my small tent and the 2 other caravans present for the night. Finishing for the day by mid afternoon afforded me the time to stretch my legs and explore the delightful county town of Shrewsbury for the first time. What originally had been an annoyance at not covering some extra miles and finishing later soon became an unexpected bonus as I meandered my way through the narrow historic lanes becoming thoroughly charmed by this until now, to me, un known city.
The morning of day 3 started in the wonderfully familiar pattern of a 06:00 alarm, pack up bedding and supplies, make breakfast, pack away tent, load up the board and be on the river for 07:20. It always surprises me how it can take over an hour to complete what seems to be such simple tasks but, experiences tells me that’s just how long everything takes on some days.
Shrewsbury is situated in the centre of a big loop the Severn makes around its southern edge. Beautifully manicured parks, grand old houses and historic rowing clubs line the banks as bridges old and new crisscrossed above me. Advance research had informed me of a large weir to the East of town which would see me conduct my first portage. Although a pleasure craft offering sightseeing tours operates from Shrewsbury, the river is not used my motorised crafts for another 50 miles at Stourport-on-Severn. When motorised boats are absent, I’d leant previously that signage and warning of weirs and submersed obstacles can range from poor to no existent. Shrewsbury weir was to be no different. Being low to the water, there is generally nothing to see when approaching a weir and it’s only when around 20 meters away does the reality come into view. The first warning is the audible sound of water rushing over the top which increases in volume the closer you get. No warning signs or directions to a safe portage point were visible, just a simple swimming pool style ladder bolted to the left bank, slightly too close to the weirs edge for comfort.
When completing multi day river trips I always have a lanyard and carabiner attached to the centre handle of my board. This means I can secure my board to the bank whilst i disembark and start the process of unloading my luggage in a safe manner without having to also flight to keep control of the board and stop it from disappearing downstream without me. Board safely attached to dry land, bags were unloaded one by one before heaving the board itself out of the water. I like to pack light enough that when portaging I can move everything in one go which results in me looking like a very unusual pack mule. One bag on my back, another on my front, board and paddle under one arm with the other kept free for important tasks like opening gates and waving at bemused dog walkers. Having made myb way around the weir and found a suitable location to put back onto the river, I was soon zipping along once again with the weir creating additional flow rate to speed me along.
The river continued to twist and turn for the next couple of hours with the peace disturbed only by the A5 road twice thundering overhead before eventually receding into the distance. As lunchtime approached the river banks lowered to reveal, wide sweeping fields, deep exposed gravel banks and an abundance of sheep and cows crazing on the lush grass. All of this was just a prelude to one of the highlights of the river – The Ironbridge Gorge.
Promoted as “The birthplace of the Industrial Revolution,” the whole area was made UNISCO World Heritage site in the mid 1980’s with the Iron Bridge as its centre piece. The bridge was opened in 1781 and was the first major bridge in the world to be made of cast iron. Since 1934 it has been closed to traffic and only accessible by pedestrians but, it’s from the river that you really get to marvel at its scale, construction and beauty.
Half a mile past the bridge lie the grade 2 to 3 listed Jackfield Rapids. Research had led me to believe these were similar the those of Symonds Yat on the river Wye I had successfully navigated but upon approaching, it was clear these were a step up in speed, length and technical difficulty. Finding a spot above the rapids to exit the river, I secured the board before following a footpath to get an elevated view of the rapids. It is always advisable to recce any potential dangerous sections before attempting them and this was no exception. A pair of white water kayakers were playfully darting around enjoying themselves and were generous enough to come and say hello. They had driven for 2 hours to come and play in the water and clearly knew their stuff being complete with crash helmets, specialist boats and all manner of safety paraphernalia. It was clear in my mind that to go through on my board would no only put myself at risk but also, rely on these strangers to rescue me should anything go wrong. Putting myself in danger is one thing but asking others to do so for no reason is just stupid and something I wasn’t willing to do. Decision made, it was back to the board and my second portage of the day as I carried bags and board to a small exposed bank immediately below the rapids.
Tonight would be the only night of the journey I wouldn’t be staying under canvas. Advance planning had shown there would be no convenient camping location but, the Coalport YHA was situated directly on the rivers edge and would serve just fine for what I needed. Having messaged in advance to enquire if it was possible to gain access from the river, I had been informed not only was it not but, it officially wasn’t allowed by the council. Not one to be deturned, I was fairly certain there would be someway to get off the river, climb through some trees, up the bank and into the carpark. Approaching the hostel, I was heartened to see a small inlet exactly where I needed to exit. Sadly, it was being occupied by 2 stolic looking fisherman so I drifted passed in the hope of finding another location and trying not to think about what would happen if I couldn’t actually exit the river. Sure enough, 30 meters down stream another access point and again, more fisherman. This time I was closer to the bank and as they shouted to inform me they had a line in, I slowed an innocently asked if this was the location of the YHA? Having confirmed it was, I asked if I could get out of the river next to them and they not only happily obliged but helped lift by bags and board off the river and up the bank, all the while chatting away about the river, fishing and one of their sisters who happened to live in the same town as me.
Checking it to the hostel it became obvious I was not the first person to arrive at the hostel via the river and the “no river access” was more an official policy than realistic, enforceable policy. Staff were super helpful in showing me where kit could be dried, asking about my journey and super apologetic there was nowhere appropriate to store by board meaning it would need to be deflated and packed away for the night.
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