Tag: bad weather

December 13th – I got away early today, and raced the rain home. Having come from Birmingham, I took the first train in my general direction available, in light of recent hassles, and ended up alighting at Shenstone. Riding down Footherley Lane, I noticed the mud was quite thick on the ground.

This is to be expected – after all the ploughing, seeding and the like, mud is carried out of fields onto roads that are never cleaned except by the rains, and we haven’t had heavy prolonged rain for a while.

This mud can be evil on road bike tyres, or after a light frost, when it partially freezes and turns into wheel-stealing slush. The best advice is take it slow, steady, don’t brake unless you have to and no sudden movements.

All part of the fun of winter…

December 5th – Without a functioning rail service, there was no alternative and I cycled home from Tyseley. The wind was strong, but it had died back considerably, and the rain – apart from a brief shower as I hit Park Hall – had cleared. I didn’t fancy the traffic up the main drag over Kingstanding with a side wind, so hit the canal all the way home. It got dark in Aston, and the front light – my trusty Hope R4 – was plenty good enough all the way. The going wasn’t fast, but it was steady, and much of the time I was sheltered from the wind. 

Reality checks came at Tower Hill, where rocks had tumbled from the steep cutting embankment onto the towpath, and Park Hall, where a tree had similarly come to a sad end. 

There was a cracking sunset, too, but I missed most of it, hidden behind the cityscape. The views over Hamstead were great though, and it made a change to see them at this time of day. I must head here for a sunset when I get chance.

I arrived home tired, but just pleased to be back, and safe. Many, many people had a far worse time with floods, the tidal surge and severe gales. My tribulations were nothing, and I did get in a decent ride, after all.

December 5th – It wasn’t a great day for train travel in the Midlands (or the rest of the country, for that matter). Signal failures led to horrid delays getting to work, and storm damage mainly caused by falling trees stopped lines to Walsall and Lichfield during the afternoon and evening, so I cycled home from Brum and gave the trains a miss completely.

I noted that Notwork Fail have this year put up a lush, artificial Christmas Tree in the ‘New’ New Street.

It’s irritatingly not straight, buy very apposite.

November 20th – Just the one picture today, as the commutes were horrid and wet, ad the images I took in the morning were spoiled by rain on the lens. I grabbed this as I left the station at Walsall in the early evening. The rain had stopped, but everything was wet and cold. The traffic seemed tetchy and aggressive tonight, too, but nothing really matches the glisten of a wet urban night scene. There wasn’t much business for the taxis tonight, but it’s nice to see Station Street undergoing a bit of a revival.

Even on a cold wet Wednesday in Walsall, there’s beauty to be had.

November 11th – I think the rain made this, in a funny kind of way. When I came past the war memorial in Darlaston, it was raining quite heavily, but the statue, wreaths and tributes positively glowed in the murk. It looks like Darlaston did it’s fallen proud. So touching, and beautiful, it was a great sight on a wet, grey monday morning.

A few minutes later in the town, I saw the regular street sweeper cheerfully litter picking in the rain. Just as I passed, a lady from a local shop shouted to him, and came out with a cup of tea for him, and praised him for his hard work.

Life here, distilled. I love this place.

November 11th – The weather is stuck in repeat. A lousy, wet and heart-in-mouth commute to Darlaston, and I hopped onto the canal as soon as I could. The roads were mad today, really, truly awful.

The rain varied between a light drizzle and very heavy, and  was again glad of good waterproofs. Twice I stopped for shelter under bridges. The autumn colour is gorgeous, but I’d love to see a bit more of yesterday’s sun rather than this endless rain we seem to be cursed with tis last couple of weeks.

From November 6th – Walsall new ring road, Green Lane Junction about 5:10pm, Wednesday 6th November 2013. I didn’t feel it safe to stop as the guy behind was stuck to me like a wet T-shirt. This is far from unique driver behaviour here – get in the wrong lane trying to queue jump, then bugger everyone else trying to sort it out.

More of this run later.

Best viewed large by clicking on the youtube logo, and click on the wee gear symbol and select 1080 for best video quality.

November 6th – An absolutely lousy commuting day. It was raining for the entirety of journeys both to and from Darlaston, and the traffic – still stuck in autumn muppet mode – didn’t make it easier. There were lights in the darkness, though; at Green Lane, Shelfield, I stopped to take a phone call and felt someone was watching me – so beware eavesdropping moggies when out and about. The canal at Bentley Bridge still looked green, depute the murk. On the way home, the roads glistened and shone in the spray-sweep of passing traffic.

It’s not shaped up to be a great bike commuting week, if I’m honest… at least the forecast for tomorrow is better.

November 2nd – I left for Lichfield at a quarter to four, and was there by five. The wind today was crafted on Satan’s back step, and blew me there at a wonderful speed. Sadly, it took me forty minutes to get back.

The headwind on my return, loaded with the occasional burst of rain for good measure, was evil. I had my suffer face on all the way back. Winter is truly here now. I wondered how all those bonfires and fireworks parties would go in such blustery conditions.

I stopped for a breather on the M6 Toll bridge at Summerhill, and decided to have a play with the long exposure setting on the camera. I’ve found this one has a 15 and 30 second setting, so popped it on the handrail and had a go.

Not too shabby, and nice colour in the sky.

November 1st – returning to Brownhills from work, I had to get some errands run. It was dark, and very wet, but in the night, the town glistened. Brownhills High Street, depressed and depressing as it can be, looks beautiful and almost busy in these conditions. Even the deserted hinterland of a Ravens Court possessed an unusual air.
It’s sore abused, but Brownhills is my home, and I still love it as much as I ever did. Even in the rain of the coming winter.