Author: BrownhillsBob

I told the truth - but told it bent. Wandering around bemused and ranty since 2007.

March 27th – I’ve seen this curious ladies bike around Lichfield before. Today it was locked up at 5:45pm outside Wilkinson in the city. I think I’ve featured it when I caught it locked up outside Waitrose. I’m trying to decide if this is a modern copy of an old design, or just a well preserved old bike. Rod brakes, original looking Sturmey Archer 3 speed hub, authentic rust in places. it’s a very individual bike, and I’d hate to ride it. I bet those brakes are evil at the best of times, mores in the wet. It fascinates me that the owner locks it – no chance of a fast getaway on that. A real oddity.

March 26th – Beauty can be found in very unexpected places. As I got off the train into a sunny South Wigston, in Leicester, these gorgeous grape hyacinths were growing up a piece of grass that’s usually wasteland. Mixed in were  primroses, polyanthus and what seemed to be some kind of violet. This station is is normally just one away from being the rectum of the UK rail system, only beating Lichfield Trent Valley because it has ramp access to bot platforms. Usually it’s desolate, untidy and lonely, often threatening. Today, it was a little oasis of purple and joy…

March 26th – The morning fog, as Kate Bush would have it. A gorgeous speedy ride into Lichfield to catch the train to Leicester. I came out at sunrise, and there seemed to be some kind of inversion. An ethereal, patchy mist clung to hollows and hedges, in places only a couple of feet high. I could have photographed it for hours, but my train was due…

March 25th – Staffordshire was just showing off – there’s no other term for it. It was the first day of British Summer Time and the birds sang, the sun beat down, and I witnessed nature, and the county I love, awaken. The wind was soft and the cycling fast. I took in views that I do every year at this time; everything old was new once again. I felt alive. The world was spinning, and I was part of it. This county gives up it’s secrets slowly, over the course of your life. But you never forget them.

March 25th – Out for a blast on a sunny, warm, spring today. Today is the day I realise I’ve survived, and this time, you did it with me. Today, the light came back and I become aware that I’d survived another dark winter. Commuting home in the light. Soon, after a brief reclamation, there will be bright mornings too. Together this year, we survived the darkness.

I felt great – forty miles in two and a half hours, I ripped through South Staffordshire, into Lichfield and out via Whitemoor Haye and Edingale. At the A513 river bridge between Alrewas and Croxall, known as Chetwynd’s or Salter’s Bridge, I stopped to look. Built in 1824, it was designed and overseen by renowned Lichfield architect Joseph Potter, who also designed Christchurch at Burntwood and Stafford County Lunatic Asylum. It’s a majestic, elegant yet sparse design, still in service and carrying heavy traffic. It is, however, and accident blackspot, and periodically vehicles end up through the balustrade and into the greasy grey green of the River Trent below…

March 25th – It must be spring, the swans are back. This young pair built a nest last year, but didn’t raise a brood. Common behaviour in young swans, they often ‘practice’ for a couple of years before raising young. Mrs. Swan was still building her huge nest in the reeds at the back of the houses on Sadler pad, near Catshill in Brownhills. Carfully pulling stalks and fronds of reed and placing them around her, her mate drifted idly on the water, one leg up on his wing, unpeturbed. Swans are remarkable birds.

March 24th – A terrible day. Best by setbacks, nothing went to plan. I was plotting a long ride into Leicestershire, but a bad stomach in the early hours put paid to that. Work troubles, technology let-downs and other frustrating issues meant I didn’t get out of the house until 5:30pm. With a distinctly ropey stomach, I didn’t feel like going far but needed peace. I headed up the canal, then rode down the old railway line trail to Ryders Mere and took a loop round Pelsall. Gold seemed to be the colour scheme of the day. It was a peaceful, gentle relief to be out and about on my own. Sadly, I didn’t see my old familiar, the dog fox. Perhaps he was scoring tea for the cubs… 

March 23rd – whilst pottering through Wednesfield on my way back from Telford, I noticed this pedestrian bridge near the centre of town. I think it’s a close relation to the one in Brownhills, erected a couple of years ago at the bottom of Pier Street. Although a different shape, and clearly adapted for specific circumstances, it’s clearly by the same designer with similar stylistic quirks. Wonder if there are any more of them? I like these bridges, although the inward-leaning rail is disconcerting, they have beautifully soft ramps for wheeled access, and look rather elegant.

March 23 – I had a meeting in Telford in the morning, and then the day was my own. Leaving at 1pm, I cycled home from Telford through the Shropshire countryside after a fine lunch at a favourite cafe in Shifnal. It was warm, with a glorious, hazy sun, the edge only being taken away by a keen headwind from the east. At Tong, I found a fascinating, challenging green lane with a history of it’s own. Fed up of the mad traffic and abrasive breeze, at Brewood I hopped on the canal and headed home on it via Oxley and Wolverhampton, winding my way along the curly Wyrley through Wednesfield and Bloxwich. A great afternoon, and hopefully one of many this year.