BrownhillsBob

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 13th – out early to Lichfield, the rain of the previous 24 hours had only just ceased, and the roads and rooftops of Lichfield were still glistening. The weak sunlight caught them as I cycled down Pipehill and rendered them precious.

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 – Retuning via the canal, l noted that the condition of the towpath between Pelsall North Common and Highbridges, is as atrocious as it ever was. Concentrating carefully on riding, I nearly missed this fine display of semi-feral roses tumbling over the rear hedge of a Pelsall garden. A spectacle of true beauty.

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.

June 10th – By the time I got to Stubbers Green, the rain was torrential. Cycling was impossible for 5 minutes or so, and all I could do was wait and watch. Oh, to be in England, in summertime. My gloves are still soaking wet.

June 10th – The day was fine until late afternoon. Leaving work, I called at the shops in Aldridge and then dived into Morrisons for some bits and pieces. It started to rain lightly. Thinking it would come to nothing, I headed for home via Stubbers Green. As I left, the sky looked ominously dark.

June 10th – I often hear folk saying that it’s easier to ride the canals, because they’re flat. This isn’t actually the case. This film shows every lock and over bridge from Longwood Junction, near Aldridge, to Salford Junction, situated under the famous Spaghetti Junction motorway interchange in Gravelly Hill, Birmingham.

The soundtrack is ‘From Rusholme With Love’ by Mint Royale: a lost classic.