May 27th – Just north of Brewood, following a short, sharp shower and for a few very short moments, nature showed me something gorgeous.
You have to have the rain to have the magic of a rainbow…
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May 27h – Recovered from the punishing excesses of Saturday’s ride, I headed out again on a grey bank holiday lunchtime for a gentle bimble once more to the west.
Finding decent routes past the dreadful Cannock/Great Wyrley/Churchbridge morass is always the challenge heading out that way and today, I took the canal to Brewood, through Wolverhampton – a lovely run of waterway I often forget about. The towpaths were good, and the only downside was an. encounter with a particularly unpleasant boater at Wolverhampton.
Leaving the canal at Brewood, I rediscovered this gorgeous village and vowed to return when the shops were open. The sun periodically came out and accompanied me north through Whiston, Bradley, Copenhall and Weeping Cross.
A ritual visit to the Wimpy at Milford reloaded the fuel tanks and kept me warm in the steady rain that fell on my way home.
All in all a nice 58 mile ride in lovely countryside.
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May 26th – On a weary recovery day, I pottered to Brownhills on an errand, and passed the canoe centre at Silver Street.
Although not as beautifully maintained as it once was – the planted boat has been left to wild and weed over – the poppies and other flowers growing on the embankment are gorgeous.
Some days it’s about distance, some days it’s about stopping at the wayside to admire the flowers…
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May 25th – One thing I love about Derby is its characters. At the River Gardens, a dapper, older gent waited for his ladyfriend to go walking along the river, before dinner and a drink, a routine they’ve had for years in good weather. He was a lovely chap and his character as individual as his fantastic style.
I hope they had a lovely evening.
At Shelton Lock, a no-nonsense neighbourhood, a fluffy-tummied tabby with a very individual ear arrangement glared at me for disturbing his evening activities. He seemed like a lovely puss that someone must adore very much.
Cities are about the personalities that inhabit them as much as architecture and geography.
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May 25th – A 93 mile dayride that was very, very challenging.
It was a nice day – not too hot, but sunny enough to get a tan, and I set out mid morning, to follow cycle route 54 to Derby – from there on route 6 to Worthington and Cloud Quarry, then back via Packington, Measham, Harlaston and Whittington.
The day was lovely and the ride excellent, with plenty to see: NCN 54 has some very pointless twiddly bits, but I did them all for old times sake and enjoyed every inch. Sad to see the development at Tattenhill, but time must crawl I guess. Falling in love with Derby again was a bonus.
NCN 6 is still one of my favourites: The run out of Derby then past Melbourne is one of the best routes in the country and a genuine joy. My only criticism is it’s time to cut the vegetation back from the viewing area at the quarry again – that stunning view should be maintained if possible.
The challenge was I’ve only ever ridden this in the opposite direction, and all the hills came at the end, and on top of some grim stomach cramps. But I prevailed and it was fantastic.
A lovely day.
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May 24th – Spotted on an evening spin out to Chasewater on a test ride following some essential, pre long ride maintenance – great crested grebes on the canal near Wharf Lane.
Unusual to get a shot of these handsome creatures without them diving at the critical moment.
What I’m curious about is despite the huge amount of fish in the canal (and it is alive with fry at the moment) I hardly ever see grebes upon it. Wonder why? Plenty on the main lake at Chasewater, though.
A mystery.
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May 23rd – Spotted waiting for a train at Blake Street, an urbane puss undertaking some grroming duties whilst loafing on the platform like so many commuters do.
This utterly unfazed, handsome and elderly-looking cat just continued with the maintenance while a train came and went only pausing to scowl at me for daring to take his photo.
Long time since I met a railway station kitty. A pleasure to make this one’s acquaintance on such a lovely morning.
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#365daysofbiking The wind that shakes…
May 23rd – Seemingly very early to me, but probably not: The barley is growing beautifully in the fields all around us at the moment. Every year seems to have a different crop that local farmers major on, and this year beans and alley seem to be the popular choices.
Barley is an odd crop aesthetically: it’s spiny heads interact with the wind in a beautiful way and the colours are stunning, yet close up it seems almost hostile and maybe just a bit insect-like.
Either way, it’s a sign of the rapidly advancing summer and made for a lovely sight on a beautiful morning.
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May 22nd – Something that’s mostly been happening beyond my notice although I pass through regularly is the rebuilding of Wolverhampton City Railway Station. All of a sudden I notice from a waiting train that steelwork has sprung up and hoardings have been erected at the north end of the old station.
I don’t get the hate for Wolves station. It’s a bland, semi-modernist, semi-brutalist station in the postwar style common in the midlands on the West Coast Main Line. Save for the signs, at Wolverhampton you could be in Stafford, Tamworth, Coventry. It’s light, it’s open, it’s dull but functional.
My only criticism really is the steep access bridge and weird separate bridge for lift access. But it works.
Now it seems we’re in for a new structure, with new facilities and it’ll be interesting to see how it develops. I hope it’s better in outlook and ambition than the risible New Street revamp, and also that it has more aforethought and usability than the monstrous, ill-conceived access bridge at Telford.
Frankly, I’m not optimistic.
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May 22nd – One of the joys of late spring and well into summer are the various varieties and colours of wild roses that populate wastelands, hedgerows, thickets and any edgeland that’s relatively sun-blessed and open.
In Telford on the way to a client meeting, the cycleway from the station to Hortonwood is lined with splashes of pink – from pale, almost white to deep, deep almost purple. And without exception, they smell divine.
Unlike cultivated roses in parks and gardens, these wayside stars get little or no care and just do their own, dishevelled thing – and to me that’s far more beautiful than some preened and nurtured hybrid.
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BrownhillsBob's #365daysofbiking 