BrownhillsBob

#365daysofbiking – Better days

February 5th – My energy didn’t give out so I went full circle and attended to an errand in Walsall Wood.

I passed under the Black Cock Bridge, named after the nearby pub. A familiar if ramshackle affair, the bridge has been lifted several times due to subsidence and now exists in a sort of limbo: It’s not got much life left, yet replacement of the structure, on a notorious rat-run, would not be easy and due to the aforementioned subsidence, would probably be better and an under bridge with and aqueduct above.

I suspect eventually it will be closed to through traffic and left, like Hollanders Bridge further up in Walsall Wood.

It’s seen better days, as have I, but I hope there’s a few more to come yet for me. For the first time in weeks, I feel like there might actually be a summer eventually, and wellness might once again be mine.

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#365daysofbiking – Interregnum

February 5th – In that odd, vague and lifeless interregnum between ‘rather ill’ and ‘quite a bit better’ I found myself bumbling around the canals of Brownhills on what was not an altogether bad day.

Here at Middleton Bridge – overlooking open farmland not a ringtoss from where the Staffordshire Hoard found a local metal detectorist – it’s hard not to look at this view and reflect.

On the left was a chemical works in the late Victorian period, that made tar and other such products; latterly an alloy smelter that seemed to process war scrap. Local kids were attracted to the yard full of warplane fuselages and engines for scrap, and for fun, but down in the valley, real metal riches lay just below the surface in a ploughed field.

This stretch of canal is still called ‘The Chemical’ by older locals.

It looks a damn site better now the scrapyard has gone, mind…

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#365daysofbiking Anchored down

February 4th – When you can’t got far the routes are limited, so one thing to do is the same route in the other direction – so that’s what I did.

I love the view of the Anchor Bridge by night and it’s just right for a long exposure photo.

That bridge has seem some life over ther years, and been widened and rebuilt many times.

A real quiet spot for me, and a place for a breather as I get my riding legs back.

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#365daysofbiking Stealing it back

February 3rd – Thing that happen when you’re not looking: Sunset is now nearing 5pm, and a whole hour later than it was at Christmas.

Such a simple, predictable thing that fills me with joy.

Sad it was such a short ride though. Roll on spring.

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#365daysofbiking Night lines

February 3rd – My short local bimbles continue as I build strength back up – and a run up to Catshill Junction, then to Ogley Junction and back up the Lichfield Road was about my limit on a chilly Monday evening.

I enjoy the canal at night. The sounds of waterfowl, the quick glance from foxes and rabbits suddenly illuminated by my bike light. The peace, quiet and the sky.

Hopefully soon my range will start expanding a bit more.

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#365daysofbiking Unusual colour

February 2nd – The Azolla bloom in the local canal, and as it matures patches of the waterway have turned a deep red.

Azolla is a small but populous growth that although strange and invasive, does little harm – it will disappear in spring as the weevils gorge on it. Winter normally sees its death, but after a very favourable summer, the winter has not been cold enough to kill it.

It’s not stringy and parts easily for passing boats and waterfowl.

But it does look very unusual.

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#365daysofbiking Please avenge my death if necessary

February 1st – Later, returning with some shopping and wheeling my bike up the canalside on Silver Street, I met these aggressive beggars.

True, I had a bag of shopping which included a French loaf. I guess they know what a human with food looks like. They thought I’d come to feed them.

They were wrong. There was a bit of a standoff, lots of hissing and a fair bit of irritated swearing. By me, not the geese, it has to be said.

Thankfully, I found some emergency corn in my coat pocket, and that distracted the hungry assailants.

If by chance one day I do not survive one of these encounters with the Canada geese, I expect readers of this journal to avenge my death if necessary.

Thank you.

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#365daysofbiking Stone me

February 1st – Heading out to for a gentle spin and resolving to take it a little easier – after all, I’d now got a cold developing which seemed to feature a particularly unpleasant mouth infection as a side dish – I bumbled past the monitoring well sensor post by Pier Street Bridge in Brownhills. Something on top caught my eye.

A beautifully painted smile stone.

There’s a local culture (particularly in Clayhanger in recent years) of painting random found stones with patters, cartoons or any art you fancy, then hiding them for smile stone enthusiasts to find.

Frequently this is a fun activity enjoyed by families with young kids.

I left this one where it was, but it was lovely to see.

Find out more about smile stones here.

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#365daysofbiking Step on up

January 31st – Wearily plodding to Chasewater – not easy in the post-hospital condition in which I found myself – I stopped to note that the new steps between the McLean Way – the former rail line through Brownhills and the canal at the Newtown Viaduct were now complete, and had a lady feeling channel just like the ones at Bullows Road.

The steps are gorgeous and very well thought out, as I’ve come to expect from this volunteer, mainly OAP led project.

I never thought I’d see this come to pass but I’m so glad it has. My thanks and support go out to all involved.

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#365daysofbiking A thorn in my side

January 31st – I see with their usual subtlety and lack of attention to detail (more on that in a post on my main blog coming up soon) the Canal and River Trust have flailed the hedges along the canal towpath between Anchor Bridge and Brownhills.

This makes for a thorny hazard for cyclists with normal tyres as the flailed thorns are devils for causing punctures.

It’s right to do it this time of year, before birds nest of course, and lord knows, the job needed doing – but the tractor they used has again churned up the grass, and the aggressive mowing has continued, with nascent daffodils cropped along with the grass.

I have no idea what’s motivated the trust to carry out this manic bout of mowing everything to within a millimetre of living but I wish they’d tale a deep breath and think about it more.

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