October 1st – Autumn is certainly coming to Catshill Junction and Clayhanger Coomon, as the deciduous scrub here turns golden. On this drizzly October evening, despite the murk, it looked beautiful. 

I note the building taking place on the former Bayley House site is coming on well, but the sculpture on the far side of the water is being rapidly claimed by the scrub.

I do hope it doesn’t get forgotten there.

October 1st – Spotted this bike on the train today. It’s a Cannondale, a brand I’m not keen on, mainly for their curious approach to design and resolute defiance of industry standards.

I snatched these images on the phone, as the owner was clearly happy with his new steed. The bike has an interesting feature – ‘Headshok’ suspension. Rather than conventional front systems, where both fork legs travel together and work in tandem,  this system is at the fork crown, and much of the mechanism – dampers etc. – is in the head-tube and between crown and fork.

Initially appealing, it means all the load in work is on one member, rather than two; the system is utterly proprietary, and requires frequent, expensive, short milage interval services. Finally, you only have to look at them funny and they stop working.

There are avid Cannondale fans out there, and many love Headshok. My experience was that it was a whole bag of hurt.

I wish my fellow cyclist all the best of luck with his new bike. I think he’ll need it.

September 30th – These guys crease me up. Often on my way home, I cycle down Four Crosses Road in Shelfield. A garden there backs onto the footpath, and these three tiny little dogs have the run of the yard.

When I go past, they always go bananas. Ferociously yapping, growling and snapping, they appear to loathe my very soul.

I’m convinced that if they could get out, they’d have a really good go at savaging me. But not one of them is larger than your average cat.

I think they imagine they’re actually wolves…

September 30th – Once you get used to the idea (and it does take me a good while to do so), Autumn is beautifully enjoyable. The colours are astounding. Everything from fallen conkers, to bright orange berries, to golden leaves and dew-collecting spiderwebs makes it beautiful to be riding right now.

All on one short section of road on an industrial estate.

September 29th – I’d nipped into Birmingham on what seemed like a reasonable afternoon, then got the train back to Walsall. As I got nearer, the skies darkened more and more. It didn’t look good.

I emerged from the station about 6pm, and it was like dusk, with almost biblically ominous conditions. 

I got as far as Rushall when the heavens opened, but it didn’t last long. It’s been the driest September on record here, and the rain was refreshing, and all too short-lived.

September 28th – Up on the Chase on a balmy, sunny afternoon that apart from the colour, could have been May rather than September.

I came up through Heath Hayes and over Hednesford, over the site of the RAF base. I loved the new RAF Trail markers with the roundel.

Birches Valley was rammed, and not a hugely enjoyable ride – it’s hard to let rip when around every corner there are kids, or loose dogs… So I headed for Abrahams Valley via Penkridge Bank, and was relieved to see not just a deer fawn, but clear space with few people over there.

The pines are beginning to turn – another week or so and they’ll be gorgeous.

I hopped from Seven Springs to Stepping Stones, over Milford Common and Shugborough, where from the zigzag bridge I watched two horse riders cautiously fording the trent. 

Racing back through Longdon, a familiar patch of cyclamen I forget every year until they flower, and they take me by surprise. Such delicate, lovely flowers.

It’s good to be back on decent weekend rides after so long waiting for the foot to sort itself out.

September 27th – Having visited the farm shop, returned via Weeford and Little Hay. Autumn is really kicking in now, and even on this very dull, overcast day, the colours were lovely. By the drainage lagoon at Thickbroom, you’d never realise you were less than 15 metres from the A38.

The rooftops of Weeford – John Wyatt’s exemplar village, built as an advertisement of his architectural prowess – still fascinate me. From the high cemetery near the community hall, the view is commanding and beautiful.

I noted that the land north of Park Lane, between Shenstone and Little Hay is now almost totally given over to free range pigs, snorting and rooting through the brown earth. They must outnumber local residents by a healthy number, and their produce – a quantity of which I’d just bought – is fine and tasty.

I couldn’t help thinking though that if they ever got together and rose up, we’d be under porcine rule within a matter of days… perhaps Animal Farm wasn’t a satire after all.