January 10th – A little further on, and a vista opened up I hadn’t noticed before. This is why I love Walsall. The light caught the dome on the Sikh Gurdwara at Wellington Street, framed perfectly by it’s surroundings. Every generation and every group brings their own architecture to the Black Country, and the Sikhs are no exception. This is why I love this place. A new face for every angle, every angle a new view. Catching the light like a jewel.
January 10th – Back in Darlaston, I enjoyed the morning commute. It was temperate and bright, and although there was a headwind, it felt good to be outdoors. I hopped on the canal in Walsall and cycled to Bentley Bridge. On the way through Pleck, I noticed that the peculiar algal bloom that Roger ‘Ziksby’ Jones had noticed on the Rushall canal, was now growing here, too. I suppose it must be the mild winter. I wonder what it is exactly, and why it suddenly proliferates like this?
January 9th – Walsall Wood’s attachment to football is deep and ongoing. Home to a popular local club, the outdoor all-weather pitch provided by the council at Oak Park is also very, very popular. This is a great facility, and the floodlights can be seen for miles around. On nights like tonight – returning from the deepest Black Country on a dark night – the hubbub and cries of the players let me know I’m not far from Home.
Hey, thanks. That’s really, really nice of you.
What you found was my Panoramio gallery, which I’ve been uploading geolocated photos to for nearly five years now. They appear in google earth and maps as little dots which show the picture when clicked – the idea being that the picture was taken where the dot is placed. It’s where BrownhillsBob started.
There’s also a main blog about cycling, the town in which I live and local history.
I don’t know what it is about my images that people like; I just document stuff I that catches my eye. I guess that essentially, I’m quite nosey.
Thanks for following and being so kind,
Bob
January 9th – Back to work. Stomach is still a shade on the uncomfortable side, but I’m miles better and just need to get my eating back to normal. I kicked off the new working year with a morning meeting in Lichfield. Ye Olde City is always odd on Monday mornings, and was virtually deserted when I left town at about 11am. I did notice, however, that a nascent cycle chic seems to be developing there; I spotted the tiny Trek ladies bike with the spray of flowers locked up in Tamworth Street. Have to admire the style. Meanwhile, at the other end of the cycling scale, I noted the huge flying-bedstead Pashley locked up again at Lichfield City Station. That bike is massive, and clearly well loved. Who the hell rides it, the Jolly Green Giant? His inside leg must be greater than the adjacent railings. That’s one lanky bloke…
January 8th – I slunk around the industrial estates on the Walsall Wood and Aldridge border. I felt shifty. A few stray vehicles clearly regarded me with suspicion. But this was the fulfilment of something I’d wanted to do for a while – I’m fascinated by deserted, functional spaces. Factory doors. Loading bays. Transformer houses. The dull, the everyday. Few people study them. But at night, when nobody is around, they become strangely beautiful to me. I haven’t a clue why.
January 8th – I rested today. The 40 miler I cycled the day before had probably been a bit over-ambitious. I needed to rest, and the stomach was still a bit troublesome. I’d wanted to explore industrial areas at night for a while, and headed off to Aldrige to see what I could find at 5pm. On the way, I passed the Costcutter store on Salters Road. That is some extreme green lighting. I wonder if it serves a purpose, or if it’s just there for effect? It’s bloody hideous, frankly.
January 7th – Up at the former RAF Hednesford, it was as peaceful as ever. Families pottered about with kids on bikes – perhaps new ones from Christmas. Dog walkers exercised their companions and it all felt like I’d never been away. I was tired – it had been a battle to get here in a cold wind, and energy reserves were low. Not all the tears running down my cheeks climbing through Wimblebury had been caused by the wind.
I reflected on a time that this place would have been a sea of wooden huts, noise and hubbub, bustling with RAF trainees preparing for war. I suddenly became acutely aware of our position as beneficiaries of their victory. History catches you, sometimes.
January 7th – A little further on, I noticed that there’s a huge stock of trail building materials being stored up in the Hednesford Hills. There’s a large area of hardstanding there, whose purpose I’m unsure of – I think it could once have been a building. The Chase Heritage Trail crosses this square, and for a few months now, piles of ballast, road planings and bales of brushwood have been appearing. These are the classic materials used to build cycle trails – I wonder what the plan is?
January 7th – emboldened by my trip to Lichfield, I set out into the wind early afternoon and headed to Cannock Chase. I figured that if I could ride up the hills through Heath Hayes and Hednesford, then up to Brindley Heath, I could ride to work. As it happened, I rode it into a nasty wind and in the face of some pretty black clouds. Here at the Hednesford Hills, just on the Chase Heritage Trail, I was preparing for the last climb up to the old RAF Hednesford, and wondering wether to pull out my waterproof hat…
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