Tag: 365daysofbiking

September 23rd – A foul afternoon. I popped over to a freind’s house to do some bike spannering, and it was raining hard. Brownhills was hardly photogenic… But passing St. James Church I noticed the lights were on and a service was In progress. St. James is a good example of recovered memory – for most of my adult life I’d have sworn it had a clock, that chimed. I’d have put money on it. It was only after photographing it for an article 2 years ago that I realised it had no such thing. What I’d actually been hearing on still, summer nights was the three faced liar on the old Council House.

There’s a somber memorial in the churchyard to the dead of three conflicts: The first and second world wars, and the Falklands War,where local lad Barry Bullers fell. It’s nice to see the memorial well maintained. These folk paid th ultimate price, and deserve respect. There’s nothing worse than a neglected memorial.

September 22nd – Since we’re around the autumnal equinox, the sunsets get quite reasonable, just as they do at the spring one. Returning home through dark lanes, lights on full and feeling cold, this was my first taste of cold-season cycling. I find riding in the dark fun, challenging and mentally exhausting, and this ride more so, as I hadn’t done it for so long. But the sky was my companion, and it was beautiful. You’re never alone with a good sunset.

September 22nd – a bright, sunshine autumn day. A ride through Staffordshire. My goodness, it was nippy as evening fell. It’s been one hell of a bad year for the oaks. I’ve previously recorded the absolute plague of knopper galls around Brownhills, devastating the acorn crop, and I’ve hardly seen any unharmed ones at all. Out in Staffordshire the story was the same. The ones that aren’t victim to the tiny, drilling wasp are small and sickly, affected by the lousy summer.

I hope they (and we) have a better time next year. To me, oaks are the epitome of the English tree, and when they suffer, I feel we all do a little bit.

September 21st – Late afternoon, the heavens opened. It’s been a fairly dry month, so it wasn’t too bad. But it affected my mood: it’s now the autumnal equinox when day is the same length as night, and the earth neither tilts toward, or away from, the sun. We are now crossing into astronomical autumn and winter, and the driving rain and wet countryside reminded me of this. I feel like this every year, before the leaves turn and the countryside becomes once more golden. It never gets easier, if I’m honest. It’s hard being an outdoors person when the nights draw in.

September 20th – On my return from Shenstone, tired and feeling down, I noticed that the trees along Lynn Lane were turning colour, and everything, including the surrounding, freely ploughed fields, was looking very autumnal. The colder, shorter days are coming now, and it’s hard to feel positive. I hate the nights closing in.

September 20th – A busy, draining day. I had urgent and unexpected stuff to attend to in Redditch, so headed out early. Expecting a quiet journey, it was horrid, and the task I had to undertake didn’t go smoothly either. At 11:30am, I left Redditch and had to go to Tyseley, so to get a bit of perspective I cycled up the Arrow Valley cycle route back to Redditch Station. It’s interesting how, even in this most unusual of years, some things have prospered. One of those things is hawthorn. Everywhere I go, hedgerows and trees are laden with deep red berries. Some say this is the sign of nature preparing for a hard winter.

The fruits themselves are edible but quite bland, and not actually berries at all; they are pomes, the same structure and type of fruit as apples. Haws are said to have health and fertility promoting properties, and can be used to make wine or jams. Birds love them, and will survive on this plentiful, sugar-laden bounty during the long months of winter.

September 19th – I wasn’t feeling lucky, but it seemed fortune was on my side. I came back to Walsall on the train, and rain ominously flecked the windows. Emerging into the light, the rain – which I was dreading, with no waterproofs – hadn’t reached Walsall. I raced home, the sky to the north east getting darker and darker. Arriving home dry, I was feeling rather smug… But as it happened, the threatening skies never delivered, so I was safe after all.

September 19th – Off to Tyseley, and stood on Moor Street Station in Birmingham, I looked through the railings back towards Masshouse, and the edge of Eastside. Not many folk realise that Moor Street Station actually sits on a bridge over the approaches to New Street Station, so this may one day be the location of a new Birmingham central transport interchange. I was struck by the state of this area in terms of architecture and regeneration. Caught between dereliction and rebirth, the shiny new blocks contrast jarringly with the boarded up buildings nearby. With the recent change in control at Birmingham City Council, hopefully the indecisive hiatus that stalled development of Eastside for over a decade will end.

September 18th – Another reason to like Leicester is the railway station. Recently refurbished, it’s full of thoughtful features, and has twice the number of ticket machines as Birmingham New Street, which says much. The front concourse has been totally reconstructed, and features some clever and unique bike parking – although there clearly isn’t enough of it.
This is a wonderful solution, and the whole lot is under CCTV watch with it’s own camera. the BTP also plant tracker-fitted bikes here to catch thieves.  Sadly, though, the mechanics of the stands seem to have baffled one punter…
Well done to the designers – nice job. Love it. 

September 18th – I spent a good 45 minutes spinning around the backstreets, just taking in the architecture. I’ve never really seen a place as wonderfully diverse as this. Buildings here variously remind me of Leeds, Clifton, Brighton and Cheltenham. The area seems to have a genuine air of community, too. Leicester is great, and very underrated.