Tag: bridge

December 18th – The weather has become warm, drizzly and misty once more. On my return from Chasetown, I noticed the streetlights on the road below were highlighting the thin mist. I’m fascinated by the view from this bridge. This is the new road system constructed a decade ago to support the M6 Toll. The roads are wide, open and fast, and without the expected traffic level, seem impressively large at night. In the background glow the red lights of Sutton Coldfield’s transmitters. There’s something almost inhuman about the design of these roads – no footpaths, a world prohibited to pedestrians, yet they have a very human beauty. I find them fascinating.

December 8th – Brownhills isn’t beautiful by any stretch of the imagination, but it can be rather striking, particularly at night. I’ve always been fascinated by the view from the Pier Street Bridge of the canal at night. There’s something about the combination of lights and water that’s rather wonderful. The whole area of the bridge is quite enchanting in the darkness. It’s proof that even the most unprepossessing area can be strikingly beautiful when you least expect it.

December 1st – A better day. I was off to work in the early morning, and returned from Darlaston in the afternoon. I was tired, and with a headwind, I opted for the shelter of the cycle track down through the Goscote Valley to Pelsall. Even still, it was hard work. Stopping on the old railway bridge over Vicarage Road, I realised the Pelsall was now wearing it’s winter jacket. This view of the village always looks so nice, but at this point in winter it always appears so barren. 

November 20th – It’s all about stations this week. Off to Telford for a meeting early, then back to Tyseley. A day of delays, missed connections and grim, grey weather. I get to see a fair few of the local rail stations around Birmingham and the Black Country, and they’re a varied bunch, from the Victorian to the modern, from the beautiful to the pug-ugly. This one is Smethwick Galton Bridge, built adjacent to the imposing, remarkable iron bridge canal crossing it’s named after. Straddling two canals, the station sits at the crossing point of the Snow Hill former GWR line and the Stour Valley Line between Wolverhampton and Birmingham. Everywhere you look from this complex, multilevel edifice there is history, be it Chance Glassworks decaying nobly down the line, or the historic, grim 60s architecture of Smethwick. 
A station so complex, I’m not sure how it was planned, in a place who’s history is far more convoluted. Not bad for a grey Tuesday waiting for a late train. 

October 28th – Looping back up the canal, I headed for Chasewater. On my way, I passed The Anchor. It was very autumnal – almost wintry in the twilight. I’d better get used to this. I think we’re in for a wet and windy season. Time, I think, to strip the bike down and clean and grease everything ready for winter.

October 24th – The drizzle continued. If we actually had some decent light, Footherley and Shenstone would be really magical: the trees are wonderful colours right now, but it’s all masked by the murk and drizzle. Please, can whoever is doing the rain dance, please stop. It’s not big, not clever and I’m developing trench-foot and webbed feet. Thanks.

October 2nd – The condition of the Black Cock Bridge in Walsall Wood seems to be deteriorating, but I’m not sure who’s responsible. This steep sided, notorious canal crossing is over a century old, and is made of brick and iron. The guard rails are wooden, and bolted on to angle-iron posts, which have now corroded away causing the guard rails to fall off. For a month or so now, someone has erected and re-erected orange webbing fencing to cover the hazard, but they’ve been so idle about the task that rather than cut the excess off, they rolled it up and stuffed the remainder in a gap. It regularly falls out and flaps in the road.
I hope someone, somewhere is planning a more permanent repair. 

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.

August 9th – Today, I had time to myself. I spent it servicing my bikes, as tomorrow, I’m heading off for a long ride. Going for a late afternoon test run, I found my way to the canal at Brownhills. Standing on the Pier Street Bridge, I noticed how the locals were out in the sun – strolling, boating, sitting by the water. This spot could be so much nicer if the marina was maintained properly, but just to stand here, sun on my back and gaze for a while, was fine enough. Hello summer, I don’t think we’ve been properly introduced…

August 4th – I spun up round the cycleway on the old railway, and at the old cement works bridge over the canal at The Slough, the heavens opened. I sheltered under the bridge for 20 minutes, then made a dash for home. The canal – like the town – was deserted save for the odd heron. As the sky above changed from a threatening black to a friendlier blue and sunset red, it lit Brownhills up in the most wonderful, cinematic fashion. 

Man, I love this place.