The River Idle is a river in Nottinghamshire, England. Its source is the confluence of the River Maun and River Meden, near Markham Moor. From there, it flows north through Retford and Bawtry before entering the River Trent at Stockwith near Misterton. The county boundary with South Yorkshire follows the river for a short distance near Bawtry, and the border with Lincolnshire does the same at Idle Stop. Originally, it flowed northwards from Idle Stop to meet the River Don on Hatfield Chase, but was diverted eastwards by drainage engineers in 1628.
Most of the land surrounding the river is a broad flood plain. Between Retford and Bawtry, the floodplain is partly occupied by a number of sand and gravel pits, while beyond Bawtry, the river is constrained by high flood banks, to allow the low lying areas to be drained for agriculture. Its main tributaries are the River Poulter and the River Ryton.
The river is navigable to Bawtry, although navigation rights were removed in 1972. It is also important for conservation, with the Idle Washlands and some of the sand and gravel pits of the Idle Valley being designated Sites of Special Scientific Interest.
Read more about River Idle: Hydrology, History, Drainage, Navigation, Conservation, Course, Bibliography
Famous quotes containing the words river and/or idle:
“The mountain may be approached more easily and directly on horseback and on foot from the northeast side, by the Aroostook road, and the Wassataquoik River; but in that case you see much less of the wilderness, none of the glorious river and lake scenery, and have no experience of the batteau and the boatman’s life.”
—Henry David Thoreau (1817–1862)
“What though the traveler tell us of the ruins of Egypt, are we so sick or idle that we must sacrifice our America and today to some man’s ill-remembered and indolent story? Carnac and Luxor are but names, or if their skeletons remain, still more desert sand and at length a wave of the Mediterranean Sea are needed to wash away the filth that attaches to their grandeur. Carnac! Carnac! here is Carnac for me. I behold the columns of a larger
and purer temple.”
—Henry David Thoreau (1817–1862)