Tag: 365daysofbiking

December 30th – As I noted ten days ago, the sunset was now advancing from it’s nadir of 3:53pm. Since then the figure – top right on the bike computer screen – has advanced to 4pm. We are winning the battle, the darkness is in regret – we’ve gained seven minutes, and the gains now will only increase. A reason to be cheerful.

I noticed yesterday in Chepstow the sunset was as late as 4:07pm. Maybe I should move south for the winter, like some of the birds…

Note one unchanged thing, though: The device is still spattered with raindrops.

December 30th – I had to go up to Walsall Wood all day. The weather – in complete contrast to the day before – was dreadful. More heavy rains and high winds, as if we haven’t endured enough.

I finally got down to it and called in where I had to after darkness fell. When I arrived, the rain had been soft and drizzly, but when I emerged, it was heavy and harsh once more. 

Glistening in electric light, it did at least look beautiful.

December 29th – Three and a half suspension bridges in one day, cycled two and a half of them. Not sure you can do that many places except the Severn Estuary.

Why the half? Well, the original Severn Bridge is two bridges, really – a huge, remarkably elegant structure over the Severn, and a second immediately to the west over the Wye to Chepstow. To me they are separate structures, as they have markedly different designs, but the Wye bridge doesn’t feel quite eligible.

It’s also a historical tour of bridge evolution – from the early Victorian, beautiful Clifton, so extravagant construction halted because Brunel ran out of money, to the beautifully minimal Second Crossing, one can see shifts in technology and materials, even between the latter two.

I rode the Clifton, The Severn and Wye – and I’m not mad keen on heights. The wind crossing the Severn was astoundingly strong, but the experience was unforgettable. Such wonderful views, great technology and the wonder of genius used to create, not destroy.

My particular favourite were the hundreds of Stockbridge Dampers fitted to the supporting ropes on the Seven Bridge. These are an anti-resonance device and stop the cables humming. They are a wonderful real-world example of harmonic mathematics in action, and it is are also fascinating to see how they’re carefully tuned.

An unforgettable day. More on the main blog later.

29th December – I took the train to Bristol on what promised to be one of the few decent days this holiday to check out the Clifton Suspension Bridge, see the Second Severn Crossing and cross the original Severn Bridge to Chepstow – you can’t cycle the Second Severn Crossing as there’s no pedestrian route, sadly.

Mission accomplished. More on my main blog later.

I got there early – a great day, sun warm on my back and so temperate, no need for gloves most of the day. A fairly strong southerly also helped at my back.

One of the biggest shocks was the cycling culture in Bristol. Huge numbers of machines parked up at Bristol Temple Meads, a handsome, wonderfully bonkers gothic edifice that oozes class in a way Birmingham New Street could only dream of. Segregated cycleways in many places, a fantastic river trail and plenty of parking provision.

My only complaint is some of the routes could be signposted better.

It made for a hugely enjoyable journey, and made me lament the awful state of municipal cycling support in Birmingham.

December 28th – I’ve heard of this before, but never seen it. In the Three Spires precinct in Lichfield, as dusk fell, a barely-noticed commotion of bird fuss broke the gentle susurration of continued consumerism below. One single tree out of several, decorated in Christmas lights in a fashion that must have taken someone bloody ages, what must have been a hundred or more pied wagtails.

I’d heard they flock. These nippy, twitchy little birds live off bugs generally, and are a common sight in car parks and factory yards and other areas of open hardstanding where they can hunt unhindered, but usually in ones and twos.

I don’t know if they came for the berries, or just a party. Certainly, nothing was bothering them. A remarkable sight I was lucky indeed to see.

December 27th – A cruise around Brownhills in the dark of a damp but moonlit night was odd. It didn’t feel like Sunday, in what must be considered the perineum of the year, this netherworld between Christmas and the return of normality at the turn of the new year. It felt like nowhere – there were no people about, the factories and homes were quiet. Only the pubs showed life, and the open, but deserted takeaways on the High Street.

This time of the year can either be really enjoyable, or purgatory. It’s never middling.

December 26th – The signal box on the preserved railway ay Chasewater Heaths is wonderfully authentic – because up until a few years ago, this signal box stood monitoring the level crossing that existed at Hademore, near Whittington in Staffordshire. 

When that line was expanded to four tracks and the signals upgraded, the level crossing was replaced with a bridge, and the box transferred to Chasewater Railway. I’ve actually spoken to the signalman at Hademore whilst waiting for the barrier out on a ride many times. It’s odd to see it here.

Never went a bundle on the colour they painted it, either; it was always white, not orange.