Retired to the garage, resurrection pending, the Trike is out of order. From the ashes, nay from the garage of the sister presently overseas, rises the MICRA. Purple in colour and brick like in aerodynamic qualities this vehicle was never designed with roadtrips in mind. It's an oversized jellybean with wheels attached. The Micra's demographic lies in collecting groceries and school children. In fact plow through a group of prepubescent noobs with this jellybean beastie and it would be like riding a bouncy castle coated in sugar. A maximog, it surely aint.
Loli suggestions (micra, legit?) aside the Micra possesses 4 firmly attached wheels, an entire engine and enough space for 3 drainers with their requisite rubber, boats and lighting gear. 1500 miles in two weekends is a respectable imitation for the Micra, so let see where it took us.
Hulme Flume
Love him or hate him Snappel has recently been assimilated into the drainer culture. After the requisite lurking he stepped to the plate dropping a class find: Hulme Flume. The area of Hulme developed a bad rep in 80s and while a few of the lowrise council flats remain it was enough to put Zero on edge, evidently he believes that non-whites find Otter meat some kind of delicacy. I was less concerned about otter-kebab than say, the local scutter scum kicking the heavy manhole shut. With a grit of the chompers, a sigh and a heave the lid rose and dropped into the shallow slots which held it vertical. Even Stoop couldn't open this sucker from below.
Flume
Sewer and assoicated workings at the overflow junction of Hulme Flume.
The Flume is oddly palindromic. Walking in both directions from the manhole one reaches a small overflow chamber complete with elevated gate, then a more significant feature at the end of the tunnel. We first encountered overflow chamber for a large sewer which overflows into the tunnel we entered through.
Blue Flume
Small overflow in Hulme Flume, Fuji print 21/4.
Hiking back past the manhole, leads into a slightly oxygen deprived atmosphere (18% oxygen concentration) where exploration terminates as the tunnel literally dives into what I expect is like a crazy U-bend. This creates a long ovoid lake, tapering to a point where the very top of the brick roof plunges into the water. Short of scuba this was the end of Hulme Flume in this direction. The large sewer is traversable, if a little risky with such fast flow.
Butterley Tunnel
Overseas travel has a funny knack of dropping you into situations you'd never expect. Ask me two years ago if I ever expected to be paddling furiously through a crumbling canal tunnel in a rapidly deflating boat while spooning an Otter (me big spoon) and puffing frantically into the air-valve in a sloppy blowjob that'd do your average pubslut proud; I'd have said surely not. We burst from the tunnel into the glorious daylight as the tail of the boat began to dip below the waterlevel and I reeled lightheaded from all the puffing. Pumping our fists/paws skyward in celebration, we made it, dry no less! The boat hissed away, spewing air but we didn't care. All that mattered was we avoided swimming in that manky water fully clothed and fully kitted. Sadly no pictures survived the trip.
Lockstock
There may be 100s of potential drain finds in the UK but there are still research collisions. Such is the case of Lockstock, almost discovered independently by Jondoe and Little Mike. Realising this they pooled efforts and graced us with this gem. Traffic diversion props were appropriated then placed accordingly and we descended into the main chamber of Lockstock. The entry space is a large overflow chamber from a passing sewer. Downstream traversal is blocked by a large perpendicular cast iron pipe, which creates a lake/sump arrangement across the tunnel. With a boat, or long wooden plank one could reach the pipe, climb over on the bolts and continue downstream
Lockstock
Upstream overflow chamber, Lockstock. Manchester is proving to be a goldmine of bricky goodness lately.
Prime
A giant culvert, to rival Megatron of Sheffield, could be called by one thing: Prime, Optimus Prime. Big thanks to UserScott, we'd have taken forever to work out the access to this without his local knowhow. Peeking from the collected rubble and muck I spotted a dull brass handle attached to a gorgeous antique fire extinguisher. My online searches have been fruitless so if anyone has some knowledge in this area I'd love to know.
Prime
Optimus Prime (manchester), the only culvert to rival Megatron (sheffield). Look at that hardhitter pose. Btown representing.
Fire Snow
The seals on this vintage fire extinguisher were perfect though the goopey original contents was certainly not. The inscription reads "John Morris (Fire Snow) Limited Manchester England".
Bunker
The grey loomed above, but that's the norm in England. It might rain. It always looks like it might rain. Probability be damned we stepped down onto the giant outfall chamber of Bunker Drain. As big as a barn dominating the riverbank you can't miss Bunker. The giant concrete box, complete with slots for armaments, promises much. The manhole is a large square composed of two right angle triangular halves, one of which sat in the collar as it should, the other sat at the bottom of the manhole shaft. The noobs who dropped the cover were too lazy to either a) retrieve it, or b) cover the gaping hole with something. ds elitist, I couldn't think why...
Bunker Whore
Our lazy jaunt upstream through the smooth concrete of bunker was interrupted by water, a lot of water. Just past the junction chamber the water level seemed to rise slightly. We had that comedy moment of:
"Is the water rising? is that getting louder?"
"Nah, it's fine."
"Wait a second..."
"Shit run!"
Uber
The basic setup in action.
Otter and I hightailed it downstream back into the junction and watched as mountains of water poured in, filling the stepped chamber to 1/3 capacity. We snapped some photos and hauled ass down a side tunnel to grilled infall. Through the grille we watched the rain pour down, hitting home how dangerous the drains can be. Both upstream and downstream were impassable; the manhole at this grille was our only exit. We didn't know of anyone ever exiting here, or even using this manhole. We were either riding out the weather beside the inlet grille, huddled atop of manhole shaft or getting out the damn manhole.
When it rains
Go in drains. Bunker drain in Warrington discharging a load.
Battering the manhole with a rock slightly smaller than a bowling ball knocked it loose and between the two of us we heaved it open. Brushing the dirt from my face and pebbles from my hair I climbed up into the rain. Being soaked in sweat and rain never felt so damn good. Waiting out the storm huddled in a manhole shaft with a wet Otter would have sucked. Seriously, where are the hot explorer girls hiding?
Loli suggestions (micra, legit?) aside the Micra possesses 4 firmly attached wheels, an entire engine and enough space for 3 drainers with their requisite rubber, boats and lighting gear. 1500 miles in two weekends is a respectable imitation for the Micra, so let see where it took us.
Hulme Flume
Love him or hate him Snappel has recently been assimilated into the drainer culture. After the requisite lurking he stepped to the plate dropping a class find: Hulme Flume. The area of Hulme developed a bad rep in 80s and while a few of the lowrise council flats remain it was enough to put Zero on edge, evidently he believes that non-whites find Otter meat some kind of delicacy. I was less concerned about otter-kebab than say, the local scutter scum kicking the heavy manhole shut. With a grit of the chompers, a sigh and a heave the lid rose and dropped into the shallow slots which held it vertical. Even Stoop couldn't open this sucker from below.
Flume
Sewer and assoicated workings at the overflow junction of Hulme Flume.
The Flume is oddly palindromic. Walking in both directions from the manhole one reaches a small overflow chamber complete with elevated gate, then a more significant feature at the end of the tunnel. We first encountered overflow chamber for a large sewer which overflows into the tunnel we entered through.
Blue Flume
Small overflow in Hulme Flume, Fuji print 21/4.
Hiking back past the manhole, leads into a slightly oxygen deprived atmosphere (18% oxygen concentration) where exploration terminates as the tunnel literally dives into what I expect is like a crazy U-bend. This creates a long ovoid lake, tapering to a point where the very top of the brick roof plunges into the water. Short of scuba this was the end of Hulme Flume in this direction. The large sewer is traversable, if a little risky with such fast flow.
Butterley Tunnel
Overseas travel has a funny knack of dropping you into situations you'd never expect. Ask me two years ago if I ever expected to be paddling furiously through a crumbling canal tunnel in a rapidly deflating boat while spooning an Otter (me big spoon) and puffing frantically into the air-valve in a sloppy blowjob that'd do your average pubslut proud; I'd have said surely not. We burst from the tunnel into the glorious daylight as the tail of the boat began to dip below the waterlevel and I reeled lightheaded from all the puffing. Pumping our fists/paws skyward in celebration, we made it, dry no less! The boat hissed away, spewing air but we didn't care. All that mattered was we avoided swimming in that manky water fully clothed and fully kitted. Sadly no pictures survived the trip.
Lockstock
There may be 100s of potential drain finds in the UK but there are still research collisions. Such is the case of Lockstock, almost discovered independently by Jondoe and Little Mike. Realising this they pooled efforts and graced us with this gem. Traffic diversion props were appropriated then placed accordingly and we descended into the main chamber of Lockstock. The entry space is a large overflow chamber from a passing sewer. Downstream traversal is blocked by a large perpendicular cast iron pipe, which creates a lake/sump arrangement across the tunnel. With a boat, or long wooden plank one could reach the pipe, climb over on the bolts and continue downstream
Lockstock
Upstream overflow chamber, Lockstock. Manchester is proving to be a goldmine of bricky goodness lately.
Prime
A giant culvert, to rival Megatron of Sheffield, could be called by one thing: Prime, Optimus Prime. Big thanks to UserScott, we'd have taken forever to work out the access to this without his local knowhow. Peeking from the collected rubble and muck I spotted a dull brass handle attached to a gorgeous antique fire extinguisher. My online searches have been fruitless so if anyone has some knowledge in this area I'd love to know.
Prime
Optimus Prime (manchester), the only culvert to rival Megatron (sheffield). Look at that hardhitter pose. Btown representing.
Fire Snow
The seals on this vintage fire extinguisher were perfect though the goopey original contents was certainly not. The inscription reads "John Morris (Fire Snow) Limited Manchester England".
Bunker
The grey loomed above, but that's the norm in England. It might rain. It always looks like it might rain. Probability be damned we stepped down onto the giant outfall chamber of Bunker Drain. As big as a barn dominating the riverbank you can't miss Bunker. The giant concrete box, complete with slots for armaments, promises much. The manhole is a large square composed of two right angle triangular halves, one of which sat in the collar as it should, the other sat at the bottom of the manhole shaft. The noobs who dropped the cover were too lazy to either a) retrieve it, or b) cover the gaping hole with something. ds elitist, I couldn't think why...
Bunker Whore
Our lazy jaunt upstream through the smooth concrete of bunker was interrupted by water, a lot of water. Just past the junction chamber the water level seemed to rise slightly. We had that comedy moment of:
"Is the water rising? is that getting louder?"
"Nah, it's fine."
"Wait a second..."
"Shit run!"
Uber
The basic setup in action.
Otter and I hightailed it downstream back into the junction and watched as mountains of water poured in, filling the stepped chamber to 1/3 capacity. We snapped some photos and hauled ass down a side tunnel to grilled infall. Through the grille we watched the rain pour down, hitting home how dangerous the drains can be. Both upstream and downstream were impassable; the manhole at this grille was our only exit. We didn't know of anyone ever exiting here, or even using this manhole. We were either riding out the weather beside the inlet grille, huddled atop of manhole shaft or getting out the damn manhole.
When it rains
Go in drains. Bunker drain in Warrington discharging a load.
Battering the manhole with a rock slightly smaller than a bowling ball knocked it loose and between the two of us we heaved it open. Brushing the dirt from my face and pebbles from my hair I climbed up into the rain. Being soaked in sweat and rain never felt so damn good. Waiting out the storm huddled in a manhole shaft with a wet Otter would have sucked. Seriously, where are the hot explorer girls hiding?
