Tag: 365daysofbiking

November 26th – Another day of beautiful light, but cold. Probably not cold for the time of year, but after recent mild weeks it seems to be positively arctic. 

I’d been doing a lot of mechanical work on the bike in recent days, and needed to test it with a shortish run with plenty of good hill action, so I went out early afternoon, over to Shenstone, Weeford, Hints, Hopwas, up the canal to Hademore and back in darkness through Wall and Chesterfield.

I took time to study the churches at Shenstone, Weeford and Hopwas – from the hideous but triumphant Gothic of Shenstone, to the farmhouse twee of Hopwas, all three are classics. All within a short distance.

Staffordshire is unusually blessed with a stunning and varied ecclesiastical architectural tradition.

November 35th – I passed through Chasewater in a splendid, cold golden hour, hoping maybe to catch some red deer. Sadly, the deer were elsewhere as there was a rugby match on over at the club, so they’d probably wandered to more peaceful environs until the shouting and cheering was over.

What I did find, however, was a beautiful north heath which, as Ian Anderson would have put it was ‘Glowing in the evening cool’ – and the view of the Paviours Road footbridge in low, golden sun was gorgeous.

Not a bad ride at all today – but bitterly cold and still with the treacherous, slippery conditions.

I have a feeling we’re in for a sharp winter this year.

November 25th – On a bright, cold winter day, near the M6 Toll in Great Wyrley, clematis seed heads looking very alien in a forgotten, edge-land thicket.

These fascinate me, as no two have quite the same texture or appearance. I bet these were an absolute riot when they were in flower. I must come here next summer and see.

November 24th – Taking a shortcut up Pier Street, I noticed that the boiler in the OAP club was running, and the plume of water vapour generated was drifting into the night illuminated by the sodium floodlight above.

At long exposure, it looked ghostly, but probably looked better in the shorter shot. 

I watched it for a while, the patterns and colour were oddly mesmerising.

November 24th – Returning to Brownhills after a long day at work, ice was forming on the towpath puddles and it felt like the hard, dry cold of winter was setting in. But it was very clear and there was a lovely moon to boot. 

I had a saddlebag full of fish and chips for tea for me and those at home, and it felt, despite the cold, like a decent night.

First time I’ve had me tail up for weeks, as my father might have said.

November 23rd – I mentioned this earlier in the week, but it’s deadly at the moment, so bears mentioning again – watch the paths and cycleways at the moment. They’re more slippery than a grease deal dipped in baby oil.

Algea, leaf mulch and general damp slime are combining to make the less well used paths treacherous. I nearly lost the bike twice today. The main reason is.a few days of light drizzle, but not enough rain to actually cleanse anything. 

Although the routes in Telford are beautiful, they are to be ridden very, very carefully – and they’ll be in the same state everywhere.

November 23rd – telford, early. After a stressful train journey that involved missing my usual bacon roll, I diverted from my usual route to visit a cafe for a pause and something unhealthy to fill my belly.

It was a sunny, cold, bright morning, and in a factory yard hedge, by a seldom-walked main road, a beautiful display of what seems to be some kind of rose.

I have no idea, but it pulled me up short with the unexpected beauty.

November 22nd – Coming through New Street Station at night, rush hour on a foul blustery evening when all the trains are messed up.

I’d rather be anywhere else than here.

Nothing sums up the deadzone, the suck, this awful time of year: no end to the advancing darkness, travel worsening daily, weather closing in.

And yet, there’s something awfully optimistic about it. You know that in a few short weeks, it’ll be over, and we’ll be opening out again.

Patience. Patience.

November 21st – In a familiar bike shed at a client’s premises, a neat illustration that the common or garden bicycle, whilst being a marvel of engineering in many ways, is still riddled with design conflicts and the whiff of mechanical compromise.

Here, a well-used and muddy mountain bike, not a cheap one by any stretch. The lack of mud and water shielding means and mud and detritus carried on the back tyre ends up not just as a skunk-stripe on the rider’s back, but also on the front gear mechanism and transmission.

In areas of hard grit like the Peak District, this continual spray works like grinding paste, gradually eating your wearing surfaces.

All for the want of some shielding.

Still, if you were a designer today, and proposed the derailleur system of gears – relying on forcing a flimsy roller chain between gears using side play as a conformal drag factor – you’d be laughed out of industry.

Except there’s nothing much better.

November 21st – On the streets of Birmingham, the autumn leaves are making for a golden carpet, and as usual, however hard an army of street cleaners try, they fight a losing battle and all one can do is plough through the fallen remains of a summer past and enjoy the sounds, colour and sensation.

There is a downside, however: on urban pavers and country lanes, the leaves will mulch under foot and vehicle wheels, combine with rainwater, road oil and grease, and form a soapy, slippery wheel-stealing goop that will make riding a concentration suck for a few weeks to come.

Every season has it’s hazards.