Month: June 2011

June 14th – Returning that afternoon, I noticed this new roadster locked up near to the railings in Trent Valley car park. Obviously a beginner to commuting, it’s a very new bike branded ‘Real’ – it’s a knock-off Pashley copy sold by Halfords, I think. Sadly, the owner hasn’t invested in a very good lock and seems to have missed the fact that there’s a decent, CCTV-covered bike park in the dry under the footbridge steps on Platform 1. I’m not going to state the obvious, I’m really not. You work it out.

Nice to see someone having a go. Cycle Chic comes to Ye Olde City?

June 14th – at the other end of my morning commute is South Wigston Station, Leicester. A forlorn, lonely and thoroughly isolated station, it has no staff or information system, and serves only a few trains each day, with a stopping service every 2 hours. It looks pleasant and green today, but in winter and at night it’s cold, solitary and intimidating place. It’s the worst station I use on a regular basis. A thoroughly awful facility.

June 14th – Lichfield Trent Valley is an awful railway station. Jammed into the chord junction formed where the Cross City Line intersects the West Coast Main Line, it’s a collection of huts, cabins and rambling, exposed platforms. It’s very busy with commuters and has still yet to get a functioning public information system. One of the worst aspects is accessibility; both the Cross City and southbound mainline platforms are utterly unaccessible to anything with wheels. I’m lucky, I can pick my bike up and carry it. Wheelchair users are stuffed.

June 13th – What a difference a day makes – well, a working day. Returning that evening, from the top of Shire Oak Hill, one would know little of the previous day’s downpour. The roads were dry and dusty, and it was once again summery and warm. The old lady of the vale still looked worderful though, but not so much the warehouse on the Fradley plain behind her.

To be in England, in the summertime.

June 12th – Amongst the surprisingly large amount of odd historical curios in Brownhills, this decaying, cast-iron milepost occupies a special place in my heart. Sitting at the side of the A5 Watling Street, right at the top of the Black Path as it has done for decades, it points brokenly to Chester and Salop, marking their distances are 62 and 30 miles respectively. I don’t know what it pointed to in the other direction, for that side has always been broken in my living memory. This is the only milepost I’ve ever seen designed like this, most locally are four-sided low, minimalist monuments, whereas this was once semi-ornate and must have cost a lot of money to make.

I wonder who placed it and what it’s origins were. It would be nice if it could be restored, but I doubt many folk even know of it’s existence, which is sad. I can remember sitting on the sign as a child waiting for a relative to come from Brownhills Comprehensive, nearby…

June 12th – Thought I was a fair weather cyclist? ‘Fraid not. Going stir-crazy late afternoon, dying to get out. Pulled on the waterproofs and went for a quick spin in the rain. Gliding up through a deserted Holland Park, I noticed the odd bars welded across the tops of the railngs around the perimenter, and wracked my mind to work out why this had been done. Then I remembered.

Several years ago, a red deer hind had been found dead, implaled on railings here that she failed to jump. The welded bars remove that risk for our cervine residents. Unusually thoughtful actions by the council, there…

June 11th – When I finally got to Pelsall Canal Festival at about 2pm, there was a sharp downpour. For 20 minutes, everything was wet and miserable, but then the sun came out. Whilst wandering around looking at the boats, I noticed this fine old Raleigh roadster complete with steel rims, hub dynamo and 3 speed Sturmey Archer gears. Sadly, the Brooks leather saddle wasn’t looking in the best of condition. The hipsters in london would kill for a bike like this.