Ruskington to Sleaford. 6 miles.
Follow the Slea.
I have time to look at the church this morning before finishing my last leg of the Spires and Steeples Trail. Once again, I’m blessed with the sun and blue sky. The sun brings to life the warmth of the Lincolnshire limestone from which this church, like all the others, is built. 
The village has a bustling main street with an enclosed stream running down the middle. Yesterday, I thought the village had a cooking odour, it is not as noticeable today. I read that the largest employer here is Pilgrims Foods who produce Scotch eggs and cocktail sausages.
For a change, here is a church built with bricks – the 1883 Zion Wesleyan Church. 
I’m soon out of the houses, crossing the railway and into open fields. Thankfully, these haven’t been ploughed, I hope to avoid yesterday’s mud.
A couple of lanes and I start walking alongside a stream, presumably the one from the village; it’s named The Beck on the map. I’ve always associated the name Beck with more Northern areas, but I suppose the Scandinavians populated here at some stage. This is proper Fenland, which has been drained since the C17th.
On the first road I come to, I meet a cyclist, and we pass the time of day as they say. I find it strange that he is riding an electric, full-suspension mountain bike in such flat terrain; of course, I don’t mention it. 
There is another large chicken factory on the horizon at Anwick. 
Farther down the lane is an ornate stone bridge over the River Slea where The Beck joins it. The Slea runs to join the Witham, which I followed for a short way out of Lincoln; it was made navigable in 1794 up to Sleaford. Locks were built at the various working mills to maintain a sufficient water flow. Of course, the coming of the railway in 1857 reduced its traffic, and it closed in 1881.
There is parking by the bridge for ‘Stepping Out’ walkers. I have noticed their signage in several places this week. Stepping Out is a 130 miles network of short walks across North Kesteven,
From the bridge, there is a view of the abandoned St. Mary’s Priory, Haverholme. Established by the Gibertine Order in the C12th and in several hands after the dissolution. The ruins are from an 1830s rebuild.
My route follows the Navigation to Sleaford, so I don’t have to worry about finding my way. It gives pleasant walking passing several abandoned locks. I suspect there will be a band of committed volunteers, like elsewhere, wanting to reopen the canal, an almost impossible task. 
I duck under a busy road and then the railway.
The last lock is at Cogglesford Watermill. It is still working and is open to the public for viewing. I quickly look around and chat with one of the volunteers about a similar working mill in Lancashire, the Heron Corn mill near Milnthorpe. It turns out his grandmother comes from there, but he doesn’t know about that mill.
I found this which gives some interesting history about the mill and the Sleaford Navigation.
The last half-mile is designated a nature reserve and gives pleasant walking right into the heart of Sleaford—many restored buildings are linked to the previous Navigation traffic.
My route terminates at the parish church, St Denys. The traffic is a nightmare in the town, and even worse, the market square adjacent to the church is being dug up and relayed. 
St Denys is a magnificent church reflecting the past importance and prosperity of Sleaford. I manage to find its entrance behind the construction work, and once inside, all is peace and tranquillity.
The steeple contains the oldest part of the church,1180 and has a very early example of a broach spire. St Denys’ is renowned for its window tracery and its stained glass. The Gothic nave dates from around 1360 with the chancel added about 1430.
The tomb of Sir Edward Carre (died 1618)
As I said, the traffic in the town is horrendous, and I don’t feel the need to explore further. Most shops are decked out for Christmas shopping, and I have no desire to partake. There are restaurants of all nationalities; an authentic-looking Polish one tempts me, but it is closed, as is the museum. I pass the town hall, a strange little shop, the Handley Memorial (local politician and landowner, C18-19th), an art deco cinema and converted warehouses. Maybe I should have spent more time in this historic town.
The bus back to Metheringham departs from the Rail station. 
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An enjoyable few days. The terrain has been flat and primarily featureless, but the villages and their churches are a delight. The footpaths are well-trodden, primarily by dog walkers taking their daily exercise. Let’s gloss over the mud.
If I had a suggestion, it would, I think, have been better to walk from Sleaford to Lincoln, thus culminating with a final uphill to the incomparable Cathedral. A two-day walk with a stop in Metheringham halfway.
For the record, six spires and eight steeples.
I’ve been so lucky with the weather in this week’s changing forecast. Hopefully, I can reach home tomorrow in the eye of the next named storm, Darragh. We are certainly having a mixed climate so far this winter.
