March 28th – I’d been in Birmingham seeing a client and returned from Shenstone in a gap in the rain, down wet lanes, glistening and dripping in the odd light of a clearing sky.
The wind was against me and I was cold, but there was something captivating about the quiet and the sound of my tyres on the wet tarmac.
Winter seems endless this year. I just want to feel the sun on my face and the warmth to ride without a jacket a little.
Not too much to ask, is it?
March 27th – A wet, cold unpleasant commute in both directions made for a horrible day, but seeing wild primroses in bloom defying the gloom on a roadside verge in Wednesbury really cheered me up.
Joy and the relief it provides can come from unexpected places.
March 18th – I thought Saturday had been grim. I had no idea just how unpleasantly bitter the wind – for that’s all it can be – would make a short ride on Sunday.
I pottered up to Chasewater again. Setting out in a partial thaw, I was surprised that within 30 minutes, package was hardening on roads and tracks and everything was freezing again. We’d had a fair old snowfall and Chasewater was beautiful for it – but it was very hard going.
Trees at the lake edge on the causeway wore jackets of pure ice and the boardwalk over Fly Creek was flooded, as it always does when the main lake is full. Coming back i had to leave the canal towpath due to the deep drifts.
I haven’t known a winter this combative and protracted for years. When I got in the cold was physically painful. I’ve had enough now.
March 17th – Coming back to Brownhills down The Parade, the snow started. As it turned out, it was in for the night and we ended up with and unexpectedly heavy fall.
It was bitterly cold, and as nice as the common looked, I wanted to be at home in the warm. I don’t know if it was the particularly biting wind or just my hunger but this cold seemed far more harsh than the -8 degrees we’d had a couple of weeks ago. Since it was nowhere near that cold now, I have no idea why that was.
Come on Winter, you’ve said your piece. Sod off and give spring a chance.
March 4th – The thing about an inversion is it’s transient. This one came and went in about 15 minutes, and it’s ever changing. As it drifted away, it left clear skies, a very noisy gull roost and beautiful colour.
Even the coos looked impressive with their clouds of steam
That’s how you fix a bad mood, and that is exactly why I ride a bike.
March 4th – I was going stir crazy. A bad day – the internet was getting me down, the thaw had set in and the world outside had the slimy, grey, filthy wet feel you only get with melting, heavy snow.
I slipped out on an errand at sunset and something magical happened. I caught a surface-air temperature inversion. I saw it start on The Parade in Brownhills, as it was gathering over the common. I raced to Chasewater. It was stunning.
An inversion occurs when the ground is colder than the air above and mist forms is very low, isolated pockets. I’ve not seen on this strong since I was a kid. Mist drifted around and almost deserted Chasewater, and I was in the middle of it, like a kid in a sweet shop.
March 3rd – I found a herd of 19 fit-looking red deer in the scrub near the outdoor education centre. They were relaxed, browsing the heather and not at all skittish. A fine sight.
I love how thick and woolly their coats seemed, and the occasional snow on the nose. It’s good to know these fine creatures are faring well in the snow.
March 3rd – A mixed-mode day following some of the heaviest, driest falls of snow I’ve ever seen. Like 2013, snow was drifting deeply, but unlike then, the snow was powered and mobile, and it was very cold.
I cycled and walked. Desperate to get out, the canal to Chasewater from Catshill Junction was very nearly impassible on foot, but wonderfully dramatic. Chasewater itself was beautiful and stark, and spotting the lapwing in a colourless landscape was wonderful.
I say colourless, but the gorse was at least trying hard.
March 2nd – The snow arrived in the late afternoon, one of those deceptive snowfalls with very fine flakes that deposits a large amount un a short time.
I went down to Stonnall to explore as night fell, and the deserted lanes of Lower Stonnall, with skeletal trees and an almost blue light were gorgeous.
There was no sign of trouble as I crossed Shire Oak but 30 minutes later, lorries and cars were stranded on the hill and there was chaos.
A beautiful and unforgettable journey.
March 2nd – The snow remained – dry, powdery, swirling into drifts. A brief call in to work, and then I came home, expecting predicted heavy falls later in the day. The cold was biting, and I pottered around Brownhills on a decent mountain bike enjoying the spectacle.
On the canal, one thing I’m interested in is the way large sections of canal remained unfrozen, with a very sharp end to thick ice. I guess it’s a wind effect but never seen it before. Fascinating.
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