You might cross it every day on the commute to work, or it could have determined which rugby club you support - the River Hull is packed full of history, and, of course, is from where our city gets its less formal but much-used name.

So as summer comes to an end, I decided to soak up some of the final rays and take a walk to find the place where the river comes from.

Back in 2017, a special event to mark the City of Culture saw all of the then 13 bridges lifted simultaneously, splitting the city in two. It got me thinking, where does the river start and can I go to see it?

The Hull isn't particularly lengthy as far as British waterways go, with less than 20 miles of it that are navigable between the Driffield Navigation and the Humber Estuary in Hull city centre.

I headed up towards the Yorkshire Wolds to see if the springs at the headwaters of the river are still accessible.

Little Driffield is a quaint village is home to the northernmost beck that feeds into the river. A walk down Church Lane opens up a painting-like image of a dainty bridge in the middle of nowhere, with no sound of cars - but the sound of running water was clear.

The clear water from the Little Driffield Beck - one of the furthest springs that form the River Hull
The clear water from the Little Driffield Beck - one of the springs that form the River Hull

But even clearer than the sound was the water itself, running barely inches deep and a few feet wide from the westerly Elmswell Beck meeting the Little Driffield Beck. The water was so clear, it was like shimmering glass. A little natural duckpond in the parish is an offshoot of the beck - which was more akin to the sludgy brown colour I'm more used to. For the record, the Elmswell Beck is geographically speaking the origin of the River, but I wanted to see more of this crystal clear water.

I was told of a walk at Millennium Green, so I headed in that direction. A public area similar to Little Switzerland on Hessle Foreshore, the walk goes from a vast open space into a more secluded area the deeper you forage. Information boards tell me that I've just taken a bridge over The Keld, a minor spring that once provided water power. Home to trout and eels, it was one of the most tranquil spots I've been around in recent times.

There's plenty of information on billboards on the Mill prior to its burning down in 1906, but the house remained intact.

Emmotland would be my third and final stop on this adventure. Now into farmland, this was the part where the river began to take shape to its most recognisable form - much wider and deeper, and the merging with West Beck picks up the pace of the waterway. Home to plenty of houseboats banked up, I couldn't get close to the riverbank due to a locked gate, but I got a good vantage point on a neighbouring tractor tyre.

The fact that so many offshoots becks help contribute to the river means that there are many more opportunities to explore surrounding villages. You could spend the full day roaming around parishes that you might not have even known about. Definitely worth checking out if you have a free day!